The Seven (Fist of Light Series) (2 page)

Expelling a loud yawn, I pushed myself free of the last vestige of warmth from the sheets. I was lucky to have them. Sleeping outside in the cold was never enjoyable, especially when you’re drenched. Unfortunately, I didn’t expect to keep warm for long. Today was my first official day of school, and if I were someone who found meaning in everything, I might have taken the weather as a bad omen. Luckily I didn’t, so instead just got up off my ass like a man and walked to one of the shared bathrooms with my blue and white polka-dot toothbrush and toothpaste.

The familiar rhythm that comes with something you’ve done a thousand times is relaxing in the extreme. I needed some kind of normality to anchor myself. As I methodically brushed my teeth back and forth with one hand, I glanced at myself through the hazy mirror on the bathroom wall. A grimy, familiar face looked back at me. Blond locks hung over my forehead. Heavy brows dominated my ice blue eyes. An upturned nose took up prime residence in the middle of my face, slightly off-center from a bad break during a scuffle in what seemed a past life. On the streets good looks were detrimental to one’s health. So I always managed to get my face muddied. For today, at least, that could change. There wouldn’t be that many perverted freaks at the school I was being forced to attend. First impressions last forever, and I definitely didn’t want to be entering a high school environment like someone who had just gotten picked up out of the sewers, even though that wasn’t far from the truth. I dropped my clothes in a premade cubby and hopped in an empty shower stall.

After my shower, it was time for my oh-so-fashionable clothes. Boxers with groovy duck prints went on first. After those I pulled on a pair of fairly expensive designer jeans. A black tee went on then, followed by a heavily lined sweatshirt to keep out the worst of the cold. When broke and out of money, the best answer is to always go into an enormous retail store containing an equally large changing room. Merely slip off the old and put on the new, and no one would be the wiser. Just don’t walk out the door with the sensors still attached to your clothes. Rinse and repeat as necessary!

I could have argued then, but I’m not sure it would’ve helped. I was upstairs when they came. When I came back downstairs completely carefree and ready for as relaxing as a walk can be in a big city like Chicago, I heard it. There was fighting and wailing, the latter could only have been my mother. I crouched down and cautiously peered around the corner.

Immediately Dad called out to me, “RUN, CALEB. DON’T COME BACK! KEEP RUNNING! WE’LL FIND YOU!”

I jerked my head back before gaining any definite view of the next room. Mom and Dad always had a back way out of every apartment or house we had stayed in. At the time, I had thought such things paranoid, although when it counted there was no time for planning an escape route by tying bed sheets together to get out of a four-story window. This time, salvation lay within my own room. There was a fire escape ladder directly outside of a padlocked window. I grabbed the key and a substantial wad of cash out of the drawer specially created exactly for this purpose.

With shaking hands, I jammed the key into the padlock. I remember vividly that it took multiple tries before it was successfully unlocked. A moment’s hesitation at the window almost killed me. Just as I was springing through the opening created by the window, something screamed by my head. A bullet? My internal fight or flight autopilot instinctively engaged. I propelled myself down the ladder. Upon reaching the bottom, I raced off on a pre-planned route. Dad and I had drilled this incessantly until it had become second nature. I took a right-hand turn followed by two lefts, a right, and then went straight until I arrived at a Greyhound bus station.

Twenty minutes later, I was on a bus destined for who-knows-where. I stuffed my head in a baseball cap and cried quietly into two tiny palms. I was all by myself now. It was possible that one day my family would find me, but not incredibly likely, because if I barely made it out, it was equally as likely that my parents hadn’t. I kept those thoughts deep inside myself. I would follow my Dad’s instructions. I would go anywhere that was away from here, until one day my parents finally caught up with me.

Maybe it was time to stop fooling myself. I wasn’t an emotionally unstable adolescent anymore. This new home wasn’t the best or worst place I could find myself in. Maybe, I thought, I should delay my departure and see what came of it. If nothing did, that wouldn’t be very surprising. There was a small possibility, however, that my parents had both lived through that day and might have been looking for me at that very moment. I had never stopped running. I didn’t want to face the day when they never showed up. Maybe it was time to stop running, to face the demons of my past. This was as good a place as any to stop and wait. The accommodations were satisfactory, especially compared to what I was used to. Damp haystacks, open ground, and cold nights flashed through my mind.

After walking back into the adjoining hall from the bathroom, I could see that everyone else was starting to get up. Leave it to a teenage boy to procrastinate ‘til the last possible minute just to get a couple more minutes of shut-eye. I chuckled under my breath as I entered the hallway.

The squeaking of aged wood marked my progress as I wandered toward the smell of food. “Always eat when you can” had been my motto since I was twelve. I was so engrossed in my food anticipation that I almost bulled into a girl my age before I managed to stop abruptly and awkwardly in front of her. My expression must have been pretty comical, because her full lips broke into a huge smile, revealing bright, white teeth.

“Sorry about that. Wasn’t paying attention,” I managed to stutter.

She had deep brown pools for eyes, like swampy vortexes that sucked you in with their intensity. Long blonde tresses tumbled down in curls slightly past her shoulders. Her face was completely devoid of any make-up, which she didn’t need anyway. Characteristically thin eyebrows poked out on top of a full set of eyelashes. They were the same eyelashes that she was batting at me now as I made a complete fool of myself.

“Why, isn’t it the greenest newbie they picked up? I’m Emily Brooks. You can call me Em.” She offered a tentative hand.

“Nice to meet ‘cha,” I drawled, accepting the proffered hand. “I’m Caleb Holden.”

While her smaller hand felt warm and smooth in mine, I was acutely aware of my own, a cold callused old thing. “So. Uh. How long have you been here?”

“Almost a month this March. I saw when you got dragged in a couple days ago. Most entertaining thing to happen since I’ve been here.”

“Glad I can shine some light upon this bleak world,” I said, as I got my feet back under me, metaphorically speaking, because I hadn’t yet tripped over anything, besides a pretty girl.

She smiled at my so-called wit. “So whatcha in for?”

The grin that was threatening to overcome my face was abruptly wiped clean. “I’ve been on the run for a long time. My parents and I were separated.” She put a supporting hand on my arm, instantly causing my face to heat up once again.

“There were some people… I don’t know what they were after, but they weren’t common burglars. My dad told me to run and I have been on the move ever since. What’s your story?” I balked at saying anything more regarding my origins, despite how sensational her hands felt.

We started to walk toward the communal pot of chicken soup a jolly looking cook had just set out. The cook was a bear of a man, stretching up to six feet and change. Humongous paws poked out of a spotless white long-sleeved shirt. A mat of black hair was held back with those gross hairnets that foodservice personnel were forced to wear. A trustworthy face jutted out of his massive frame, lording over a huge chin and a bulbous nose. He represented the loving second uncle, who always brought candy for the little kids when there was a family get-together. Not that I had a second uncle, or even an uncle that I knew of, for that matter. He just matched a stereotype that my mind had conjured over years of scrutinizing folks.

“Nice to meet ‘cha.” I extended my hand over the plastic separating film toward the cook. “I’m Caleb.”

“Back at ‘cha, kid. Sam’s the name. You’re the new recruit, right?”

I nodded. “Just dropped in a couple days ago. Checking out the sights and all. What brings you here?”

“Ah, well. I’ve got a soft spot for kids, and since I don’t have any of my own, I ended up here.” He smiled. “I make enough money to skate by and get to help some people who need it, even if it is just a bowl of soup.” He emphasized his point by waving the meaty hand over his product.

“Looks great. Thanks. Well, I’ll see you around, I’m sure. Nice meeting you.”

Sam waved his hand distractedly in a good-natured goodbye as he continued his work. Walking toward the tables, I took in the view of the room. It wasn’t normal for me to be so distracted, though Emily was anything but an ordinary person, based on my instincts. Ten long tables set apart in ten rows extended fifty feet in any direction. I presumed the three doors that I saw lead to the girls’ dormitory, the exit hallway, and possibly the staff’s base of operations.

As teenagers started flowing into the room for breakfast, I took a seat at the end of a table, giving myself as much of a view as I could absorb at one time. Em shadowed me and sat on the opposite side of the table. I resisted the temptation to look away from my food as a flash of long legs caught my eye while she got comfortable. I was unable to ignore, however, the constant pressure of a smooth, warm appendage pressed up against my leg. Smiling, I looked up at Em. By then I had completely forgotten that she never told me why she was here.

“Isn’t it a tad cold for shorts?”

“In California? Never!” She smiled, endearingly. “I could wear shorts all year. Plus, jeans are so restricting.”

Toasting her with a glass of water, I said, “I can agree with that.”

“So, you’re going to school today?”

“Looks like it. I think I might just stay here awhile. If you don’t mind me being so presumptuous, of course.”

She twirled a lock of her hair on a finger. “No, of course not. I’m okay with that. As long as you follow my rules.”

“Of course.” I flashed my teeth at her. “So, what do you think of this school they forced upon us?”

“It’s school. The people in it make up the whole. And the kids who go to this school are pretty much all stuck-up pricks.”

“High praise.”

“Which means you wouldn’t want to be their friends in the first place. The teachers are all good at what they do. Some you’ll like and the others you won’t. Being that the school is some elite rich-kid school, all that isn’t very surprising. This place has some kind of deal with the school where the government gives them a tax write-off and a larger spending budget for allowing us trash in.”

“Wow. Sounds just as appealing as stabbing myself. Maybe I won’t be making it too far into the school year after all. There’s something about snobby people that just makes me go all berserk.”

“I feel the same way. But most of the time I can deal with it.”

We finished the rest of our meal in silence. Then, with obvious reluctance, I removed myself from my comfortable position and stood up from the table. Warmth radiated off Em in waves and I felt a palpable chill away from her.

“Looks like it’s about time for me to go meet with the higher-ups. They said I should come get my scheduling form from them in the morning. How do we get to school?”

“The best buses that the government has to offer. I’ll save you a seat next to me,” she promised with a smile.

“I’ll see you there.” I grinned.