| |
I wished I could say I didn’t know where I was when I woke up, but the smell was unmistakable. Dirty diapers, mold, and too many unwashed bodies created an odor that was hard to forget.
That, and the sound of a dozen kids screaming and running through the halls, made this place unmistakable.
The Orphanage.
My worst nightmare.
I shut my eyes again and hoped if I went to sleep, I’d wake up somewhere else. It happened enough lately that it seemed like a valid option.
It didn’t work. I was still here. My heart pounded just knowing that, and I hadn’t even seen the caretakers yet.
Someone had placed me on the bottom bunk in a room and put a wet washcloth on my forehead. Since I couldn’t picture any of the people in charge doing that, I assumed one of the other kids had.
My bunk was one of four in the room. A single bare bulb screwed into the center of the ceiling. Worn chests sat at either end of the bunk beds, full of whatever belongings these kids had. I hoped I hadn’t stolen some kid’s bunk.
Loud voices erupted outside the door, followed by fast shushing. Hinges creaked when someone poked their head in.
I sat up.
They yelped and disappeared from view.
Taking a deep breath, ignoring how my whole body shook, I stood up and approached the door. Before I could pull it open more, a girl burst through, coming up short when she saw I was so close. Her hand tightened on the doorknob.
She looked around eleven, with long dark brown hair in two braids. A beauty mark dotted her cheek under one of her wide dark brown eyes.
“You’re not supposed to get up,” she stated.
“I’m not staying.” I knew where the orphanage was. I could find my way back to Base from here.
“You’re sick,” she said.
“I’ll be fine.” I’d rather be sick anywhere else than be even remotely healthy inside this building. I’d even willingly walk myself to the air force rather than stay here.
“Mama and Papa weren’t happy to see you,” she said, still standing in the doorway, still blocking my way.
Mama and Papa. The caretakers of this place. They insisted all the kids call them that. “I don’t want to see them.” That was the last thing I wanted, ever. Being stabbed a hundred times was more preferable.
“But the guards that dropped you off also had a bag of food, so they said you could stay.”
King’s beard. That food was supposed to be for my friends. Mama and Papa would keep half of it for themselves.
“Where’d you get the food?” the girl asked.
“Stole it from a rich guy,” I said. “If you let me leave, I can bring more.” I would do no such thing. I would never come anywhere near here if I could help it.
“How’d you steal it?” she asked.
“Went in the kitchen while he was asleep and took it.” I pushed her out of the way, but a whole group of kids stood outside the door, blocking the hallway.
The girl spun me around, standing on her toes to get in my face. “Can you steal it again?”
“From Mama and Papa?”
She nodded.
“Do you want to die? That is how you die.”
“You slept in my bunk. You owe me.” She jutted her chin out, like she was trying to be taller.
“I didn’t choose where I slept, so no.” I pushed past her and all the other kids. It was time to leave, before Mama and Papa knew I was awake.
“It smelled so good, though,” one of the kids said. He was a little blonde boy, missing a front tooth.
“And you’re not getting a bite of it if you try to steal it,” a deep voice said. Heavy steps came up the stairs.
My entire body froze. I wanted to run and hide, jump out a window, crawl into the walls, anything but actually face him. But I couldn’t go anywhere. The kids scrambled behind me, mouths snapping shut as we faced the top of the stairs on the other end of the hallway.
A giant of a man stepped into view. His presence took up the whole second floor. Papa. His arms and legs were thick with muscles, straining against his shirt and pants. An old scar cut his eyebrow, a remnant from his days in an illegal fight club, the stories went. He ran his fingers over a whip coiled at his waist.
“Not to mention your actual punishment if you try it,” he said.
The sound of the cracking whip echoed in my mind. He’d never been afraid to use it. If the room was too small, he’d get a poker from the fireplace.
His gaze met mine, and his face twisted. “The brat’s awake, huh?”
This is the part where I should do something, say something, at least. Maybe something witty like ‘Anyone with eyes can see I’m awake.’ The best I could do was not whimper.
“You’ve caused a lot of trouble, runt.” Papa moved closer.
I didn’t know if it was fear or stupidity that kept me rooted to the spot.
“The guards said you’ve been a thorn in their side for years now, making them look like fools. And, of course, they blame us, because we didn’t keep you here like we’re supposed to.”
He stood right in front of me. I had to crane my neck to look up at him.
“So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to be on your best behavior. If you put even a shadow out of line, I’ll whip you until I find bone. Then, once your fever breaks, you can join all the others doing the King’s work in the air force.”
Anyone unfortunate enough to stay in the Orphanage until they came of age had this fate waiting for them now. They used to go to some mill outside town, but once the air force had been established a few years back, that became their fate. Sent to the coast to build flying ships, never to be heard from again.
A lot of us wondered if there even was an air force out there.
“Or,” I coughed to clear my throat. It felt like I hadn’t had anything to drink in years. “Or, you let me walk out the front door right now. You don’t want me here, and I don’t want to be here. Let me go, and we both win.”
He grinned. “Nice try, runt. But the guards will be back for you in a few days. I can stand you that long.”
“Sure they aren’t coming for you?” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. It was a defense mechanism, so no one would know how terrified I really was at the threat. It just didn’t defend against much when in front of Papa.
He grabbed my shirt collar and leaned in my face. “Watch it, runt. I’ve whipped people for less before.”
“Yeah, I know.” Anger burned in me. There was a mass grave in the backyard full of ‘tragic accidents’ to prove it. I’d had good friends end up in that grave before I ran away.
If I stayed, I’d be in that grave long before my fever ever broke.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Maybe you need a demonstration.”
“I’ve seen plenty.” I grabbed his wrist and dug my nails in.
He let go of my shirt just to punch me, but at least stumbling away gave me some distance from him.
The kids gasped and scattered back.
“Don’t ever do that again,” Papa said. “Or you really will get the whip.” He patted the thing at his side.
All of us flinched.
Satisfied, he walked away, pausing at the top of the stairs. “By the way, none of you get dinner tonight since you were planning to steal it. Can’t let thoughts like that go unpunished, now, can we?”
He disappeared down the stairs again.
I sagged against the wall and slid down to the floor. I felt drained, like I’d run all through the city. Except worse, because I was emotionally spent. I needed another nap.
One of the kids sniffed. “I missed breakfast, too.”
“We always have to share, why don’t the grownups?” a little four-year-old girl asked.
“Guess we’ll just have to steal it after all,” the older girl with the beauty mark said, looking to me. “He’ll help.”
“Excuse me?” I’d barely survived that encounter. I had no desire to go poking a hornet’s nest.
She crossed her arms and looked down at me. “You’ll go hungry, too. And you know what you’re doing, so you have to help.”
The kids all looked to me, eyes pleading.
One of these days, I was going to have to figure out how to say no to that look.