Defying Terror

Chapter LXXV

Pvt. Slater J. Tross, No. 305

September 11th, 2030, 10:21 pm

"Imagine thinking Bentley's is the best fast food place in the Empire," Mai muses. "That's such a Queen's-centric thing to say. Unimo is hands-down the best. It's not even a contest."

I gasp, followed by a brief laugh. "What? You can't be serious. If Unimo is so good, how come I've never even heard of it?"

"There's only one in all of Queen's City, and it's in Frayton. All the rest are in Ciella; it's an Etolunia-based company."

I collapse back onto the bed, where my back is barricaded by two solid ridges. I flop my hands over the other side, reaching for the floor. Upside down, I see Max White close his eyes right as I match with them. I wave to him, but he does not respond.

"Max," I taunt, "I saw that you're awake. You're not fooling anyone."

He grumbles. "Well, I wish I was asleep."

"What do you think, Max? Bentley's or Unimo?" I inquire as my blood rushes to my head. A pool forms over my eyes.

"I don't really care. No preference." He twirls in his sheets so I meet his back. I pick myself up to face Mai again. My eyes flush dry.

CJ pulls his legs toward him when my posture adjusts. He peers over the pages of his current novel at me. "You've got a lot of energy for ten-thirty at night. You didn't have hardly as much when we were doing hand-to-hand combat today."

"Search his footlocker," Mai suggests with a grin. "He could be on something that we don't know about."

"Bro, you have weed?" CJ says over our tone as if the walls aren't thin. I tense at his volume and slap his knee, which he follows with a snicker.

Mai hits his upright knee, too. "Weed makes you drowsy, idiot. We literally learned about drugs and drug crimes last week, and I know for a fact you weren't paying attention."

CJ folds his book over on his bed beside him. "For your information, I was paying attention during the seminar. Weed also makes you be more paranoid, hallucinate, shit like that. I say Slater is high as shit and he never told us he was lighting up."

"I'm not fucking high," I declare, surrounded by a crowd of laughs. "I don't think I've ever been high in my life. You guys are all a bunch of goofs."

I gaze up at big Ed Callahan on Wyatt's bed. The size comparison between the two is comical if there was any one way to put it. Ed hauling himself up to the top bunk to play cards with Wyatt was a ten-minute sight to see.

Wyatt rolls up his short sleeve to expose his limber shoulder. His face contorts, even before Ed winds up and lays a stiff punch on his bicep. He hollers upon impact as Ed falls back in laughter. Punch blackjack.

"Ed, you seem like a wise guy," I call to him. "Do you prefer Bentley's fast food to Unimo's fast food or are you not as smart as I think you are?"

Ed smiles, shuffling the cards in his hand. "Bentley's is the shit. Can't be beaten."

"Boom!" I shout softly at Mai. "See I told you. Not a single person here knows what Unimo is."

"Well excuse me if I don't like greasy burgers and half-assed milkshakes," Mai says, rolling her eyes. "Unimo uses actual chicken in their sandwiches. Bentley's chicken fingers are so undercooked and pasty that it probably isn't even chicken at all."

Ed leans over the railing of Wyatt's bed. "Yeah, well, I don't give a fuck what's in those chicken fingers because they're so damn delicious."

Mai palms Ed's face and pushes him back on the bunk bed. "Go back to your cards."