Burning Day

Chapter 7

Waking each morning was an uphill battle, but before long, it was Day 7.

Day 7 of week 29.

Tonight, someone would've been taken.

But tonight, I was going to avenge the fallen Subjects.

My mind played the thought on a loop as I ambled the familiar trail to the lounge. I knew on a surface level I should've been resting, training, anything besides plopping my ass in front of the TV, but I couldn't resist. Even if it was for a single hour, my nerves demanded to be in my safe place. I needed the tension in my shoulders to ease.

But before lights out, I'd be back in my dorm—ready for Subject 37's call.

Glancing over my shoulders for roaming staff, I pushed the lounge open with my hip and stepped inside. It closer resembled passing through a portal than a door, how the free, happy air swelled in my lungs.

I picked the remote off the sofa and crossed the room to the DVD box. Kneeling, I removed the lid and sifted through the discs, searching for something new.

How many damn movies have we seen? I thought, annoyed, because even with a whole tub, I couldn't find a single unwatched DVD. Pursing my lips, I plunged my arm into the box, reaching for the bottom.

I might as well have won the lottery for how ecstatic feeling a layer of plastic packaging made me. I tore it out of the tub and peeled the plastic off the brand-new DVD. I only needed to rewrap it when I finished.

On the cover stood a tall, proud woman atop a building, staring out at a vast city. Her sky-blue cape fluttered in the wind, and her white jumpsuit hugged her hip dips, round belly, and curvy figure. Covering her eyes was a blue mask, with gloves to match.

The top of the disc announced, Frost Dancer and Doctor Flare.

The film called to me, practically forcing me to switch the input of the television, insert the disc, and sit against the couch.

When the movie began, the screen didn't display the fierce young woman atop the skyscraper—but a regular teen named Kiara Desmond. Actually, the longer I watched, the more about her seemed regular; her parents sending her to school with a kiss, teachers demanding homework, and her laughing friend saying she didn't have it.

Normal.

That is, until screams erupted throughout the school and a grown man's cackles echoed from everywhere.

The building lit up in flames, but instead of cowering behind a desk, Kiara dove out of the room despite her friend's protests. Clearly, she hadn't a clue what she was doing, but all she knew was she had to save everyone—Gift or not.

I scoffed; an Ungifted, caring about others? Making pigs fly would've been more believable.

I watched, annoyed, as the girl sprinted through the school. Straining her ears, Kiara realized the laughing man's voice came from outside. She burst out the front door, and there floated the man in his red lab coat and goggles; Doctor Flare.

He took one look at Kiara, her jaw set, and cackled.

"Foolish girl." Flames raced up his arms. "You can't stop me—those without superpowers are useless cowards!"

My shoulders stiffened. Useless? Coward? In my rage, I almost punched the TV. Anyone without a superpower—a Gift—was a useless coward?

Only when I stood, fists clenched at my sides, I froze. My head swirled. Why did the comment cut me? He was talking to the Ungifted girl, not me. I had a Gift—it was just...late.