“This midget really thinks she's something,” growled Green-hair but she waited until the girl who smelt like weed tried to rush Satara again before jumping in.
It was two against one but she still felt like a teenager kicking over a pair of toddlers.
“Don't hit meeee!” screamed Weed-girl.
The wild swing of her fists proved she clearly had no idea how to use either of them. You started it. Satara pushed aside her first punch and spun around the second, wincing almost empathetically as her knuckles met the metals bars and her wail of pain filled the space around them. Green-hair hesitated as Weed-girl dropped to her knees and held her hand to her chest, rocking back and forth as she sobbed.
Satara forced the wickedest smile she could manage onto her face. “How're your hands feeling?”
“What the fu-” Green-hair stepped back as some of the other girls rose uncertainly. The ones that hadn't been completely crushed by their experiences. She seemed to find her own strength in their presence as if they were now all on the same side. “What did you do to her?”
Shoes clattered on the corridor tiles as several people hurried to investigate the noise.
“She did it to herself.” Satara backed up against the bars. “And so will you, if you don't stop now.”
“What's going on here?” bellowed a man from outside the cell.
Satara pressed a finger to her ear and tried not to grimace too blatantly.
“She broke her hand,” said Green-hair, pointing first at Satara and then at Weed-girl. “Come and look.”
“I'm not falling for that one again.” The man behind her rapped the bars with something equally metal.
Satara jumped and hoped none of them noticed as she glared at him. They were probably busy enough trying to calm their own rapid heartbeats. The policeman wasn't one of the two that brought her in.
“What's that face for?” he growled, pointing his baton at her. “Want me to come in there and sort you out?”
“Not really.” The exhaustion creeping through her limbs disappeared in the face of the newest threat.
“Then sit down and keep quiet like a good little girl,” he said.
His words were enough to stoke her disgust and his self-assured smile splashed over her anger like gasoline. She walked up to the bars and stopped directly opposite him.
“I was,” she said. “But if that's what you want, you're going to have to come in and make me.”
“Kids these days,” he hissed, fussing with several keys attached to his belt and barking orders. “You two, watch the door and let me know if anything of them try anything funny.”
“Okaaay,” said a young man who could have been in his early twenties and the woman next to him nodded.
He's not that tall and he's slow as hell. Looks like he might have an issue with his knee too. The officer entered the detainment cell but he ignored her and tried to pull Weed-girl to her feet.
“What the hell happened to you?” he groaned when she resisted his advances. “Let me see your hand.”
“No,” she moaned, leaning away from his outstretched fingers. “Don't touch it.”
“I can't tell what's wrong with it unless I touch it,” he said, waving his baton at Green-hair and the other girls. “All of you, get back.”
Is he allowed to do that? Satara had never been interested in the country's justice system. As far as she knew, the Cunningham case had been closed and laid to rest before the local court had a chance to play any part in her fate. Maybe they weren't the only ones who hurt everyone here.
“You too.” The officer snapped at her over his shoulder. “Stand by the wall with the others.”
“I don't want to,” she said after a moment. “They keep trying to hurt me.”
“Really? That's weird.” He yanked Weed-girl up next to him by the arm as if she were a sack of wet flour. “Because, out of everyone here, you look the least beat up.”
That's only because they didn't know what they were doing.
“I said they tried,” she answered. “I didn't say they succeeded.”
“Stop mouthing off and get in line.” He hit the bench and she didn't flinch this time, staying put as he pushed Weed-girl through the cell door. “Go get her hand checked out. Just in case.”
“Okay.” The female officer gently grasped Weed-girl by the arms and led her away.
“Should I go with them?” asked her male counterpart.
“No, keep an eye on the door,” said their senior as he turned back to Satara. “Looks like we've got a troublemaker here.”
“Possibly two,” she agreed. Green-hair immediately spun to face the wall like the rest of them, her hands folded behind her head. “Forget that. It's just one now.”
“The hell are you playing at?” demanded the policeman as he approached her. “You just got here and you're acting like you own the place? How old are you?”
“I'd never want to own a place like this,” she told him. “Even if I was old enough.”
“A credit card?” Satara blinked at the word on the right hand side of the card. “I can't use this.”
“Why not?”
“I'm fifteen. I don't even have a bank account.” And why would I use a stranger's money?
The corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile but decided not to purely for her sake. “I can teach you how to use it, if you want. You should probably take the money out from a cash machine first though. Just for now.”
“But how much money – how much can I use?” The question was a placeholder. Her fingers dug into the satin of her new backpack.
“As much as you need.” He nodded as her eyes rose back up to his. “It's yours. Just try not to buy a house with it.”
She needed to get her bag back before they looked though it.
“Are you gonna do as you're told or keep talking back?” he said.
“Depends. Are you going to get me out of here or are you going to wait until they break more than just their knuckles?”
He didn't seem capable of doing much if she decided to put up a real fight but that would only make them guarded again. She had only used their attention to stop the other girls from getting badly hurt. She hadn't meant to irritate anyone … entirely. He wasn't supposed to enter the cell and drain her patience.
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“What did you just say –?” He reached for her shoulder and she held her breath.
Touch me. I dare you –
“Jake?” said a woman from somewhere behind her and his hand dropped away instantly.
“Oh hi, Michelle,” he said as if he hadn't been about to manhandle a teenage girl. “What're you doing in this neck of the woods?”
“Picking up the child you were about to get physical with, from what I can tell.” The frown in Michelle's voice ghosted her features. “Since you're already in there, why don't you bring her out for me? Without laying a hand on her, that is.”
“Laying a hand? Now, now, detective, don't be silly.” His laugh was false and satisfyingly unsteady as he waved at Satara and the exit simultaneously. “You know I'd never do anything like that.”
As she dodged around his offensive digits, Satara deliberately stared at the unsettled girls in the cell and then made eye contact with the stern-faced woman opposite her.
“That's not what it looks like from here,” said Michelle once he closed the door. “I don't care what your wage is. Working here doesn't put anyone above the law.”
“Of course, it doesn't.” He waved dismissively again as if he could redirect her displeasure. “But these girls are here for a reason, right? If we let 'em get too comfortable, they'll want to come back.”
“Yeah, I don't think that's going to be a problem somehow.” Michelle scanned the detainees, then nodded at the guy who accompanied Jake. “I want someone to have a look at all of them as soon as possible. You can bring me their fitness and mental health forms once I'm done with this young lady here.”
“Okay.” He hurried away without looking at the other man and Satara stifled a dark smile.
“This way, missus,” said Jake but Michelle intervened before she could react to the movement of his hand behind her.
“I'll take it from here.”
“By yourself?” He pointed at Satara who sidestepped his fingernail. “What if she tries to make a run for it?”
“I'll manage,” she said, nodding at the fifteen year old. “I'm pretty sure our staff are skilled enough to keep her contained. If not, she'll be doing us a favour and that staff overhaul we need might finally happen.”
“Okay,” he muttered. “I'll be at my desk. Call if you need anything.”
“Of course.” She looked directly at Satara. “If you'd like to come this way, Miss Lang.”
So they already know who I am. She let the detective usher her down several corridors. As much as she wanted to, she didn't look back at Jake with a smug smile nor did she do anything else to draw attention to herself until they reached a small interview room that looked like it belonged in a police drama.
“Have a seat,” said Michelle. “I'll be back in a second.”
She didn't put the restraint rings attached to the table around Satara's wrists but locked the door behind her. Satara sat down and kept her eyes away from the likely two way mirror opposite her as well as the small black camera in the top right corner of the room. She assumed another one had been fixed to the parallel wall on her left and focused on her breathing until the slight tremor in her hands subsided.
I can't tell them the truth without them finding out about Sin and Chirean, and everything else. But the more I lie, the more chances they'll have to catch me out. She rubbed her brow and the pain that ran behind it wasn't fake. Melissa thought Sin kidnapped us so they probably think the same thing. I can't blame them, I guess. I probably would've thought the same thing if I heard two teenagers went missing after a couple of strangers crashed their MMA class. But they must have realised by now that Saytarnia was trying to kill me. Don't they think that's weird?
Her thoughts slowed. Saytarnia hadn't been trying to kill her but had made it seem like that. She's after this Xade person, not me. Was that a test? To see if I was strong enough to go with her? One that I failed –
The door opened. Michelle set a voice recorder and a manilla folder down on her own side of the table.
“Hi Satara,” she said as she sat down. Though the stern lines around her mouth softened, her hard stare remained the same. “My name's Michelle.”
Satara nodded at her. “Hi.”
“I'm going to record our session and ask you a few questions,” she said. “I'd like you to be as truthful as possible when you answer them so we can help you to the best of our ability. Do you understand?”
She nodded again. I understand you people never change the way you do things even if that way doesn't always work.
“During the session, I'm going to need you to speak clearly and refrain from only nodding or shaking your head.” She smiled tightly. “Since this is only an audio recording, those kinds of responses won't be picked up.”
Obviously. I don't know what you're so worried about though. The cameras in here will pick it up instead and the people in security can get you copies of the tape easily enough, can't they?
“Okay,” she said. Her voice came out flat.
Michelle pressed a button on the device and flipped open the folder, mentioning the time and date in a clear, clipped tone that proved how routine the procedure was for her. “For recording, training, and legal purposes, could you please state your full name for me?”
“Satara Lang.” I'm not a Lang. Or a Cunningham. According to Sin, I'm a Slaixing.
“Thank you.” Michelle smiled at her. “And could you tell us your age and your most recent home address?”
Satara did as she was told and slipped her hands in her pockets, though they were already out of sight beneath the table.
“Great. Let's get right to it then.” Michelle's chest heaved silently. Is this stressing her out? Why? “First of all, how are you feeling right now, Satara?”
How are you feeling? It was one of the worst questions in the world. Too vague yet too personal, and the potential answers ranged from short non-verbal affirmations or negations to detailed emotional rants. None of them were right or wrong.
She almost shrugged. “I don't know.”
“You were found on Whiterall Road and brought here tonight by two officers,” she said. “Can I ask what you were doing there?”
“It's complicated,” she said after a long pause. If I don't give them straight answers, they should find it harder to catch me out.
“Okay. Let's take it from the beginning, shall we?” Michelle stopped a slight frown from dominating her features and scanned the paper in front of her as Satara shrugged. “You've been missing for approximately two weeks now. You were last seen at Starbright Recreational Centre where you were having an MMA exam. Is that right?”
“That's right.” No point trying to hide facts everyone else knows.
“It seems there were a few people on the premises but the only thing they seem to remember it that you were carried out of the building by a man with dark hair and a long coat while you were unconscious. Do you remember how you lost consciousness?”
“Wait, what?” Shock yanked her gaze from the table top to Michelle's face.
“Our witnesses said they remember you being taken away by a man they'd never seen before and that you didn't appear to be awake at the time,” she said slowly. “But none of them could tell us how you ended up that way. They only remember sitting down to before the exam started.”
What is she talking about? No, what are they talking about? How could they forget what happened when they watched the whole thing? Satara sat back in her seat and tried to control her expression. Jason remembered it. Are they all lying? Did Saytarnia threaten them? Is that why they didn't say anything? Or can she –?
“You seem surprised,” remarked Michelle. “To be honest, we were too. With so many witnesses, it's strange that not one of them could tell us clearly what happened. Not even your instructor, Carl.”
Satara remembered the odd way Carl had spoken that day and his out of character behaviour.
“As your instructor, my judgement might not be impartial so I have to remain in a neutral position.” He was talking a lot more than usual and his vocabulary seemed too complex for a class of teenage boys. One of the things she had appreciated about him from the beginning was his lack of unnecessary conversation. “To measure the extent of your skills, you have to test them against someone whose methods aren't familiar to you.”
<><><><><>
The door to the training hall opened and Carl turned towards it in sync with the eyes of his students.
“Ah, here … she is.” He slurred over the pronoun
<><><><><>
She found Jason, barely visible beyond Saytarnia's slowly approaching form, and finally allowed herself to look at him. The panic on his face was clear. As was the fact that she had broken or at least fractured a rib or two. She knew, though she had never damaged any of her bones before.
“It's over!” said Jason, straining towards her despite Carl's grip on his arm. “The match's over so –”
Satara tried not to gulp. Can she control memories too? Is that why I couldn't remember everything? And if she can control them, does that mean she can change them too? She pressed her lips together, hiding her clenched teeth. Was she lying about everything after all?
“Satara, do you remember being taken away by someone that day?” Michelle laced her fingers together on top of the folder. “Someone with dark hair and a long coat?”
If I say yes, they'll definitely know Sin was there but it's not like they can find him with a description like that. They'll try to get more details from me if I confirm it though. Her fists ached in her pockets. I have to be careful. Much more careful than usual.
Michelle leafed through several sheets in the folder and flipped a photo in front of her. “Perhaps this might help you?”
It was a CCTV picture of Sin, taken from somewhere close to the recreational centre. He was half hidden by a pillar but the angle of his body suggested that he had been running at the time and hadn't checked the area for cameras. Was that when he was coming to get me? Michelle's eyes poked holes into her neutral facade and Satara turned away from the photo before the truth could trickle out across it.
“Did he take you away and do something to you?” Her voice was deceptively gentle. “Something you don't want to talk about?”
What if that guy was telling the truth and Sin comes here after he wakes up? She pictured him surrounded by police officers, forced to either kill them and become a definite criminal in their eyes or reveal the existence of zai in an attempt to get them both back to safety. Or worse, give himself up so her and Jason could get away.
She tried to squash the unfamiliar burst of panic in her chest with a deep albeit shaky breath. The eyes of the woman in front of her, along with those of watchers behind the cameras and the two way mirror, drove stakes into her hands and feet. She couldn't escape the room without making an irrevocable decision and the realisation stole the last remnants of light in her mind.
“Okay, we can come back to that,” said Michelle, retrieving the photo. Satara's nails bit into her palms but she didn't grab their only picture of Sinastar. His eyes were still open on that square of printing paper. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to keep it or set it alight. “We understand Jason Vulpaio went missing on the same day. Some of the witnesses said they saw him running after the man who took you. Jason's a friend of yours, is that right?”
“That's right,” she murmured.
“When was the last time you saw him?” Michelle seemed to realise she wasn't going to get a direct response and changed tactics. “You seemed to be quite close to him. We think he might've tried to stop this man from abducting you so we just want to confirm his safety now that we have you here. Your parents are already on the way but it'd be nice if we could reassure his too, don't you think?”
“The La- My parents are coming here?” Satara almost shot to her feet. Her toes curled in her trainers.
“Yes. Once we've finished here, they're going to take you to the nearest hospital and then you'll be going home with them.” Michelle searched her expression and Satara knew she was supposed to look happy, or at least relieved, about finally be able to go home. “We just want Jason to come home safe too so anything you tell us about that man, anything you remember, could help us find him. We don't have that much to go on at the moment.”
Though she tried to shift her features into an appropriate expression, they wouldn't cooperate. The Langs are coming. They won't let me get away again. What if the police keep watch outside and they catch Sin? Or what if one of those demon things comes back before he does?
Michelle sighed and closed the folder. “I understand all of this must be very difficult for you, Satara. You've already got quite a history and now this has happened as well. Do you want us to wait until your parents get here? Then we can all talk about it together. How does that sound?”
It sounds like I need to get out of here. Now. She started to stand but Satara beat her to it, slamming her palms on the table to get her immediate attention.
“Wait,” she said. Her heartbeat sped up but White Lightening illuminated her thoughts.
“Satar-” Michelle's hand stilled before she could turn off the recording device.
“I don't know where the man in that picture is right now but he didn't hurt me at all. He saved me,” she said, and her voice didn't quiver. “It's been a while since I saw Jayce but I hope he's safe wherever he is too.”
“So you were with this man –” The detective started to stand again.
“– I don't meant to be rude or cause any more problems,” continued Satara. “But I can't say what you want me to say or do what you want me to do.”
“What do you mean by tha-?” Michelle struggled to conceal her utter bewilderment.
“I'm sorry.” Satara's chair clattered to the floor as she stepped back and and shoved the table straight into the older woman's midriff.