The Fence

Chapter 6: Scarlet Sutikka

"You three, come here."

Merida stops just short of finishing Ky off. My brother flinches away from her but probably realizes that, no, Grey is not testing them, and that Merida is not going to bruise him again with one of her skillful blows. I focus my attention on the strawberry-haired girl. She's in peak physical shape—something I never noticed before at school, because she was always wearing thick button-down shirts and khaki pants, but now with her resistance uniform hugging her body tightly, I can see how slim and muscular she is—but even she's starting to drag. She wipes her forehead of sweat and takes a step out of the ring. Ky blinks, then follows her lead.

Grey's called us over to watch Neveah, who's still working on target practice. If he sees us watching him, he doesn't seem to care. Neveah reloads his gun quickly, then fires non-stop at the targets. I don't even see the bullets, but one right another, paintballs explode near the bullseye and garnish the target with bright colors. When Neveah runs out of ammunition, he pulls back and views his masterpiece as any proud artist would.

I view his masterpiece as an awe-filled art critic.

"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?" Grey asks, tapping the gun in Neveah's hand.

"My friend and I—" Neveah cuts himself off. He takes off his protective glasses while he contemplates. "We used to go out into the wheat fields to practice shooting."

"With real guns?" Ky inquires, interested.

"No," Neveah replies quickly, but his shoulders sag a little. "Not exactly. They were BB guns."

"But you went into the wheat fields?" Merida asks, her eyes wide. "That's near Caste 10!"

Even I'm a bit surprised. Neveah, golden boy Neveah, even approaching Caste 10 seems outside the realm of possibility. "How'd you even know how to get there?" I add.

"My friend—" Neveah tries.

"What's it like?"

"Yeah, how did you get there?"

"I didn't call you over for an interrogation," Grey snaps. The three of us immediately stop talking. I watch Neveah shoot Grey a thankful look. "I called you over to watch his form and accuracy. Whatever he did in the past serves him well now." Grey crosses his arm and nods at Neveah. "Can you hit moving targets?"

Neveah smiles. "I can try."

"Right attitude. Merida, take a break from the ring and try the bags. Ky, let's see if you'll do any better facing someone else. Are you good with trying some other weapons out, Neveah?"

"Yes, sir."

"Perfect. Marcus, you'll be on the guns."

With that, Grey dismisses us to our places. Merida looks thankful to be able to rest. She puts her all into her fighting. Ky, however, looks dejected, as if he knows he'll probably be just as bad facing Neveah, who doesn't even fence. Neveah looks ready to go, strengthened by Grey's praise.

Me?

Well, I've never really liked guns.

It started when I was little. I don't remember exactly how old I was. I was definitely young enough to still be afraid of the dark and the monster under my bed. I didn't have the best understanding of the world back then, but I did know that the gangs in Caste 7 were not just fabricated stories used to scare kids into not wandering too far without an adult.

But even back then I was stubborn. I didn't listen to my father's insistent warnings about the dangers of our caste.

After dinner one night, my father fell asleep. I knew he worked harder than he should have to, so I let him take his nap, listening to his bubbling snore while Ky played with some toys in his room.