Embers & Ice

Chapter Twelve

"Check mate.”

Ryo sat back in her chair, her grin wide like a Cheshire cat, leaving Hunter completely flabbergasted.

“A twelve-year-old beat me at chess.”

Benji was chuckling to himself in that cute way only nerdy kids do. And then Hunter was thinking about Eli and how much she missed his laugh.

“What’s wrong?” asked Ryo.

“Nothing,” she replied. “Rematch?”

“I could beat you with my eyes closed.”

Hunter scoffed good-naturedly. “So… what else is there to do here?”

“Not much. I mostly hang out here, or in my cell, and I go down to the labs when I need to. There’s the fitness room, but only Marcus and Mosi bother to use that.”

“Can you show me?” Hunter asked, eager to keep moving and wanting to know more about the prison she was in.

Ryo jumped up. “Sure! You coming Benji?”

“Uh, n-no I think I’ll just stay h-here…”

Without caring, Ryo grabbed Hunter’s wrist and they went marching to the door. Out in the corridor, Ryo led her behind the stairs to a smaller door with a wonky handle. As she entered the room, Hunter was hit with the smell of cement and stale sweat. It was somehow refreshing in comparison with the salty, bacterial smell everywhere else.

Jet’s brother Marcus was lying on a bench press lifting weights, with a very large figure that looked to be about thirty spotting him. Only his features gave away his youth. The tortured look in his dark eyes from across the room hit Hunter in the chest. He had dark, almost black skin and the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen.

“That’s Mosi,” whispered Ryo. “He hasn’t been the same since he accidentally killed another kid in the Orb.”

Hunter glanced down at her, shocked. “He killed someone? How?”

“He crushed a boy. His power is Terrakinesis – he controls geological matter, and he has diamond-tough skin. He worked in the mines in Africa.” As they watched the two boys, Ryo lowered her voice. “It was an accident, and a very unfair fight. Most fights in the Orb are unfair anyway. One thing you should know about this place: it’s not separated by age or the level of your powers. There are kids here who can rip people apart with their bare hands or kill you with a single spark of kinetic energy. But there are those with a power not even worth their imprisonment.”

“Why do they do such horrible things?”

“To maintain authority and fear. To give the scientists a way to study us in action. You’ll get used to the fact that the men here are monsters. They have no regard for humanity.”

Hunter watched Marcus and Mosi in silence with Ryo, wishing she could close her eyes, go to sleep and wake up anywhere else but there. And if she could choose, she’d choose to wake up in Eli’s arms.

“I have to go,” said Ryo suddenly. “I’m due in the labs for my daily tests. Are you staying here?”

Hunter eyed the punching bag and suddenly had the irresistible urge to beat someone up. There was only a torn yoga mat and a rusty bike left in the corner. “Yeah, thanks Ryo.”

“Have fun.” She smiled and was gone.

Some of the strength she lacked after losing so much blood that morning had returned after eating and sitting down for a few hours. In order to keep herself fit, she needed to remain active even when it hurt. After what Mikayla had said in the bathroom, she couldn’t bear the thought of looking so gaunt.

Hunter approached the punching bag. It was easy to imagine Dr. Wolfe or Joshua’s face in the center. Mosi watched her, his black eyes deep and sharp like a hawk. She found herself thinking that he and Marcus were the most unlikely friends, but there were a lot of things that didn’t make sense in ICE Institution – or Death Cave, as Zac had called it – so Hunter saved her thoughts for more important topics.

Like escaping.

Deep down, she knew it wouldn’t be possible without her powers. The fire cheered its approval inside her, more excited than ever to escape, but Hunter scolded it. You’re not much use inside me, are you?

Her fists pounded into the punching bag, pain zapping all the way up her wrists, but it felt real and not numb like the rest of her body. She broke out in a sweat and was so consumed in her thoughts that she didn’t see someone sneak up behind her and stand on the other side of the bag. His hands curled around it and held it steady for her.

“You are holding your fists wrong,” he said in a deep voice, his accent thick and as powerful as her punches.

Hunter stopped and breathed heavily, peering around the bag. Mosi wasn’t wearing a shirt, and immediately her eyes found a device that stuck out of the skin on his left peck. It flashed 35, then 39, and back and forth. It was measuring his heart rate.

“How am I… s’posed to hold it then?” she asked defensively, dizziness breaking down on her again.

He grabbed her wrist and before she could yank it back, his calloused hands were curling her fingers and bending her thumb over the top. She was surprisingly frozen, feeling as though he might scatter away like a frightened gazelle if she moved. He was much bigger up close, and more muscular than a heavyweight wrestler. Hunter wondered if he preferred living as a prisoner in the institution to living outside as a slave.

“Punch here,” he said, “and you won’t hurt your knuckles as much.”

She flexed her wrists and shot a glance at Marcus, who was sitting on the bench with his hands clasped between his knees and his face impassive as he watched her.

She turned back to Mosi. “Where’d you learn that?”

“In my home country, there is much fighting. I learn a lot of things because I listen and watch.”

“Well thanks for the tip,” she replied, not sure what to make of his cryptic talk. Mosi backed away from her slowly.

“You are welcome.” With that, he sauntered to the door, Marcus not far behind him.