A Collection of Ruins

Chapter 16 - And so, the Games Begin (Tess)

Tess

My heart thudded in my chest as Ellie pulled the trigger, the sound of gunfire echoing off the walls of sandbags. A flock of birds fled from the nearby trees at the sound. My gaze followed the children who had just ran into the mock city from the MetWall.

"How do you think they'll do?" I asked Jev, barely able to balance beside him in the sandbags.

He shrugged. "It depends. They're new – just through the Fights. They'll be cocky this time." He loaded his gun, lining up one of the boys in his sights, then pulled the trigger. The boy growled in pain as bright pink paint smeared his shoulder, the force of the paintball sending him to his knees. Jev smirked. "We need to teach them a lesson now before the Met does it for us. If they're cocky when we go in for real, it could cause casualties."

I raised my eyebrows. "And you think the Met would teach them a lesson with a single bullet to the shoulder?"

His smirk grew. "Oh, of course, you're right." He sent a volley of paintballs towards the boy – and missed. The wall of sandbags behind the boy became a mess of colour. "The Met's shooters would have much worse aim. Think of all the ammo they'd waste."

I scoffed. "Did no one shoot the cockiness out of you after your Fights?"

He shrugged. "They tried. It came back."

I looked across the mock city from the top of the sandbags, my gaze settling on Ellie. The wind stirred her blonde hair in spirals. Grime covered her face from stacking the sandbags earlier. She had a splatter of paint down one side where a paintball had burst as she handed them out to her fellow shooters. A bruise bloomed on her cheekbone and a cut had appeared on her eyebrow – I assumed they were injuries from her fight with Ronan. Yet, as she set her sights and sent paintballs flying at her small army below, none of it mattered. She looked ethereal. Beautiful. Dangerous. But most of all, she looked like she belonged. And me? I didn't belong anywhere.

Jev looked up from the scope of his rifle, following my gaze. "You really want her to train you?" He asked, his brow furrowed.

"What?" I asked. "Do you not think I have what it takes to be one of you?"

He scoffed. "I could count the number of Rebels in Sterilis who could manage to get a knife to Ellie's throat on one hand. If any Metkid could do it, it'd be you." Then He shook his head. "There are others who could train you who would be much more... Forgiving... Than Ellie, trust me."

My brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

He leaned forward, sending a paintball flying towards a small redhead girl who just rounded the corner. Green paint exploded down the side of her face, and she turned to give him the finger before running off. He laughed, then turned back to me. "I mean Ellie takes no shit." He said. "You've never been trained to fight before. Getting her to train you would be like jumping in the deep end before you've been taught to float."

I scoffed. "And you're offering to train me instead?"

"What?" He asked, mocking me. "Do you not think I have what it takes?"

I narrowed my eyes.

He laughed again, the sound bouncing off the trees. Somewhere far off, a bird echoed his laughter. He straightened up and placed the rifle in my hands. "Here."

My eyes widened. "Wha—"

He reached over and changed my grip on the gun. "You'll want to hold it like this if you ever want to actually shoot someone." He told me. "Don't be afraid of it. Being afraid gives it power over you. You have to remember that you're the one in control, not the gun."