Roy, though I didn’t know his name then, stood punching the bag. His movements would slow briefly, then the boy shook them off and kept hitting. I’d found myself huddled against one wall while Daniel rambled mindlessly.

“How old are you? What are your parents like? Do you have a cousin? I have a cousin and she’s stupid.”

The lack of response hardly slowed him.

Roy kept training. His stamina was incredible, even then. The rhythmic punching combined with other noises. One man held mitts up near the ring. Another was jumping rope. Punch. Punch. Click. Click. Thump. Thump. Punch. Punch. The noises drowned conscious thought.

“Hey, man, it’ll be okay, okay?”

Daniel’s words slipped by my enthralled state. Eventually they faded away and the older larger man stepped into view.

“Runt. Stop and go cool down.” Some words were clear, others weren’t. Runt, stop, and go were almost perfect.

“Yes, sir.” Roy’s words fit his features. His young voice sounded abnormally firm. He lacked flab or childish fat, like so many kids I’d seen at the restaurant.

All my observations were almost passive. A sense of unease crept over me as the room’s rhythm changed again. There was more thumping which made my heart rate speed up. I looked to see the old man motioning me toward another room.

“Come here.”

Tal’s sudden presence sent me scrambling further down the wall and away.

“Retreating is only useful when there’s something to be gained,” he said.

My only anchor since free falling into this strange existence had abandoned me. I panicked and tried to recall what he’d been saying. Had he told me what to expect? What the rules were?

The older man’s face was so hard. It felt like tempered iron, though I didn’t have the words for such an idea at that age. Not because of his oddly tinted skin, not the crow’s feet around his face, not the already peppering hair.

It was his eyes. They were frighteningly firm and unwavering. When he looked at me, he looked nowhere else. There was nothing else in existence.

Tal, the muddled name came through. It was a strange mix of my modern mind interjecting thoughts into a memory. He frowned slightly and repeated, “Come here.”

He implied there were no other options. I could delay, waffle, beat around the bush, and avoid eye contact for as long as possible, but I would end up in that room eventually.

I hadn’t been inside any place but my broken-down rail yard. I hadn’t even gone inside the restaurant.

The thumping of my blood increased. Noises from the others in the gym beat a disharmonious cadence. I tried to break from the memory and remember how a group of people could perform the same movements while breathing in time.

My head shook but no words came out. Tal took a step in my direction and nearly scowled.

“Inside, runt.” He paused then pointed at me. “Now.”

The teen kept hitting his punching bag. Other people inside the main room minded their own business. No one seemed to notice or take offense at this treatment.

He stepped forward and it felt like the world lost track of a beat somewhere. A second step and the older man got behind me, then twisted and locked my arms. My heartbeat hammered desperately. I yelled and struggled to get free.

My protests were useless in the face of his motions. My arms bent in a way that robbed all strength. Moving wrong shot pain into my joints, which encouraged cooperation. He pushed me inside the room and toward a stiff chair.

I was freed and moved away from the iron wrought man. Not that it’d be enough. My vision darted around the room. I put the chair between us and stood near a wall. My back pressed into cool wood.

Tal ignored the posture and paced slowly. “Now. There are rules to living with me, runt,” he said. “I will feed you, I will clothe you, I will teach you how to survive in this world.”

I barely registered the words while searching for an escape. This room seemed to be an office of some sort with no other exit. The material next to me felt brittle and thin. Windows were still new to me, but at the same time I’d known them for years. My mind was having trouble existing in two moments at once.

Tal continued, “You will listen when I give orders. It’s simple. Failure to listen will result in punishment.”

I remembered things growing dimmer. My heartbeat was too loud and being trapped with no form of escape was sending me into a panic spiral. The larger man was too dangerous to risk escaping by. Not after how he’d handled me before.

Escape. Flee. Will return to den.

The voice was back. Its words slammed across my dimming consciousness. The pounding grew worse, inner heat had started to grow. I yelped, whimpered, and finally did what any logical creature would in the face of so much pressure.

I passed out.

***

I woke in the prison cell, screaming and clawing at the walls in order to escape. Heavy bricks had grown heated. Someone outside the door shouted at me. Vibrations poured through every ounce of the wall as my rage sought an outlet.

Physically I was in solitary at Atlas Island. I knew that much. But at the same time I was a young boy trapped in a room with the much taller and scarier Tal. Alone in a new world. Bereft of the people I’d known.

He wasn’t going to push me around again. I’d grown stronger to make sure. I’d spent years learning every trick he could offer me and more. He couldn’t fight me anymore in this small space. I’d beat him once before. I’d beat him and left that home. I’d established myself as the stronger male.

“Get back!” I shouted. “Go away! Or I’ll gobble you up! You’re too weak, old man!”

The walls were designed to hold wolves and their reinforcements held despite my efforts. Soon I passed out, only vaguely aware of the damage I’d caused about me.

***

My past resumed from where it’d left off. The childish person I was had been moved to a dark room. The ground beneath me was warm and soft. Much softer than the hard floors of my abandoned train yard.

“The runt’s half wild.” Tal’s slurred words came through a nearby wall. He and another figure whispered to each other.

“No kidding. He might as well have been birthed from a rock. I mean, he’s not stupid. Kid learned please, speaks perfect English, and has a haircut. The worst ones don’t have haircuts.”

I knew the voice. It made it through my muddled thoughts as belonging to Daniel’s father. My body stilled to make listening easier. Their words were muffled by the thudding of my heartbeat and the punching bags outside.

“I didn’t expect him to just pass out.” The older man almost sounded bashful.

“Did you give him the full drill sergeant experience? Because that nearly sent me screaming for the hills in boot. Even Hunter training was secondary to those terrors.”

Drill Sergeant? Was it a title? Like a Legionnaire? It sounded important and worthy of respect.

“I might have,” Tal responded.

“Jesus, Tal, he’s not the same species you are. Not by a long shot. Your boy might be able to fit into the mold, but this kid’s, well you said it—half wild.”

I held my breath while listening, afraid to move and alert them to my wakened status.

Daniel’s father grumbled then huffed. I was surprised they were so well behaved, given their barely disguised hostility before. He asked, “You sure you can look after him?”

“Yes,” Tal said with certainty. “I’ve raised one boy, no reason I can’t raise another.”

A muffled snort of amusement came from the wall’s other side.

“Your boy is boxing against kids almost twice his age, and winning. That’s hardly raising a child by standard methods.”

“My runt’s got talent. Wouldn’t be fair to overly restrain him.”

“It’s not unfair to him, just the other kids who don’t know any better.”

“Once he’s old enough I’ll be putting Roy into the interracial competitions, he’ll thrive there.”

“And this other one? You gonna try to make a fighter of him?”

“Maybe.”

“Kid’s got spunk, and strength. Bet he’d give Roy a run for his money in a few years.”

“I doubt it.”

“If you say so. Look, I only dropped by because you wanted to talk this out. I’ll try to be available but it’s hard.”

“I know.”

“And I only brought the boy to you because I’d rather this than losing him in foster care. If anyone would understand his condition it’s you and your son. But—”

The words were cut off as Tal spoke again. His words slow but clearer than normal. “I’m not so addled I’ve forgotten how things work. I know you risk much allowing me and my boy to live. If taking in a stray is the price, I’ll accept it.”

“Good.”

“I’m surprised you even thought to bring him here.”

There was a long pause and a heavy sigh from Daniel’s father. He said, “We’ve had our differences, Roy.”

“That we have, Crumfield.”

“You’re law abiding, no past history worth noting, clean. Therefore I’ll see past all the Hunter History and keep civil.”

“And me and my boy appreciate it.” Tal was hard to understand through the wall, past the dim vibrations.

“That’s what it’s really about, right? The kids. We’d do anything to keep them safe and happy. That’s why I let this wild child slide. My little man likes him. What else can I do?” Daniel’s father asked. “I can’t let him down. But I’ll be watching, and may the Gods have mercy if I’ve made the wrong choice.”

“You would have killed a child?”

“I’d think twice, but Born Hunters wouldn’t. They’ve got the drive that I don’t. You think Roy’s a handful? Wait until Daniel’s nature starts kicking in. His mom left journals. She went from stalking boys to stalking the wolves next door in about a week.”

“She was worth respect.”

“Yeah, until this job got her killed. But I can’t let that taint everything. Your—” Daniel’s father paused and I could feel his head shake, even though he was in another room. There was a swig of liquid splashing followed by a gasp. “It doesn’t matter, I guess. If you’ll excuse me, I need to reassure the little man that his friend is still alive and figure out what’s left for homework.”

Tal nodded once. I didn’t even question being able to feel them move despite a lack of eyesight. It simply was how things had always been. Tal said, “My runt is waiting as well.”

“Are you still staying up all night training? I remember you never stopped, even during boot camp. You would be up, all night, working. I think it’s the only thing that prevented us from stabbing you. Once we realized you were doing twice as much work as us…” Daniel’s father trailed off. I struggled to mix past memories with current ones in order to recall his name, but couldn’t. We’d never been close.

“Discipline is a constant battle,” Tal said.

“All right, I’ll see myself out. Keep me informed about your boarder.”

“If I see fit.”

Daniel’s dad snorted again and both men stepped into the hall.

Tal, the larger one, opened the door to where I’d been put. A sliver of light spilled in, nearly blinding me. Slowly Tal’s face came into focus. His face was softer than it had been. Our eyes met over the room’s distance and through my crossed arms. I didn’t waver, instead searching for any sign of aggression from his stance.

“It’s been suggested”—he took great pains to sound clear. I could see the hint of misshapen teeth below the ridge line of his bottom lip—“I was too harsh. Tonight you should rest if you can. Tomorrow we’ll eat, and start over.”

He waited for me to say something. I didn’t. Eventually he gave up and closed the door.

Looking back on my past, with adult eyes, it was easy to understand what was happening. The harshness exhibited by Tal had been a product of his attempts at self-control. Everything he did, the firmness of action and word, was designed to keep a rigid lock on himself.

But as a child, I didn’t understand. He seemed more like a prison guard than a father.

I sat, huddled on the bed rewinding everything through my mind. Picking apart words, tones, the pauses between words, anything for a clue on what to expect. During my thoughts all the noises from below departed. One set of footsteps after another. A door slammed and bells jingled multiple times until finally one set of sounds remained. Sharp repetitive motions from downstairs prevented true silence from overtaking the room.

Thump. Thump. Whoosh.

“Again!” came the older man’s voice.

Thump. Thump. Whoosh.

“Again!”

On they went through the night. I remembered Daniel’s dad asking if they trained at night. Their actions below were preparation for something, but at a young age I didn’t know what. Eventually I lost consciousness, still in the bed and rolled in layers of blankets.

Morning startled me. Light filtered through weak blinds. Noises such as metal dragging across tile kept me twitching. The scraping sound made my skin crawl. Porcelain bowls slammed down with a clank. Spoons curled at the inner edges of thick material, scooping up tiny porous bits of grain.

I didn’t know what any of those things were, then, and each noise, each feeling, sent me into a frightened panic. I dove from the top of where I’d been resting to the far side, looking around in dawn’s light for a place to escape to.

I braved the unfamiliar noises for a window. The latch took too long to figure out, so I stood with my face against glass, trying to see if I could get away and home to my refuge.

There were so many cars. Those objects had nearly hit me multiple times before. They made loud blaring noises, sounding like angry birds. This place was far more crowded than my train yard.

The door opened behind me with a groan. I turned to see the boy from before. The one Tal called runt, and I’d later learn to be Roy. He’d been up most of the night hitting something, and had still managed to wake up before me.

“Breakfast is ready,” he said.

My head cocked to one side and tried to puzzle through his tone. It wasn’t friendly, kind, luring, or mean. It didn’t set off any alarm bells. He sounded tired and acted as if my existence was irrelevant. Roy, who was almost a teen, closed the door and walked away.

A few minutes later I braved that side of the room and tried the doorknob. This was the first one I’d ever run into. It didn’t pull like the restaurant’s front door. I couldn’t just push it out of the way like the broken doors at the train yard. Eventually I figured out how to turn it and was so delighted I forgot my fear for a moment.

Tal stood at the bottom of a flight of stairs. His hands were large but deftly unknotting laces on a pair of shoes. He glanced to where I stood.

“Come on down, boy,” Tal said.

I didn’t move. Tal’s face grew agitated, then calm, then angry again. I watched him rein in multiple times before a deep breath issued and control was established.

“There’s food for you,” he said.

That had me down the stairs in moments, but wasn’t enough to risk venturing within arm’s reach of the larger man. I skirted him and dashed into the next room where a small table sat in a crowded but orderly kitchen.

Roy didn’t care one ounce and shoved a plate into my hands and gestured toward the table. He didn’t say anything else and returned to the stove. Judging by the bustle and setup, younger men did the cooking.

I started picking at the food with my hands.

“You know what a fork is, boy?” Tal asked.

I shook my head and picked at the meal. It sounded important so I paid attention to every movement. It was a bit of effort, considering how hungry I felt.

Tal’s face twisted around the eyes but didn’t match the pull at his lips. He came off as annoyed and pitying at the same time.

“Eat then, whatever way’s comfortable. We’ll work on the rest later.”

I nodded and my eyes glued on the two males. This food was even better than the hamburgers. The material was yellow, fluffy, and clumped. Streaks of orange littered between the groups creating goo that stuck to my fingers.

And so my first meal with the Forges passed, me an unmannered heathen, Tal trying not to be angry, and Roy giving off an air of disciplined indifference.

If only I’d known then, what I knew now. Like so much in my life, hindsight made remembering hurt.

***

Noises poured forth. Everything rang from what could only be a blown eardrum. Moments ago the ground had been shaking from a violent earthquake. I could see hairline fractures forming across the top of my cell. The metal surface they’d called a mirror bent crosswise. Bedding had been shredded. Everything was displaced as my mind rewound through the latest set of memories.

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The world felt new again. The raw sensations from my younger self lingered. I held still, feeling the dense nature of metal versus a more porous brick. Gouges were missing from the cell’s lining. Steel rebar poked out like shattered bones from the wall.

I shook my head and snorted in frustration. My body rumbled. The lights were too bright. I’d been fitfully sleeping. Something blared on the speakers and I struggled to pay attention.

“Attention, all inmates, you are to stand in the yellow circle identified at the rear of your cell and await further instructions.”

The rear of my cell? Looking around didn’t bring clarity, only recognition of the whirlwind mess that had engulfed my room. Sheets were charred at the ends and scorch marks decorated the walls. A series of small explosions could have gone off and created less damage.

“Attention, all inmates,” it started again.

My forehead scrunched with effort, trying to disengage myself from the past. I wanted to be free of the childish past. I had survived this far. I wasn’t a small, hungry, scared boy learning about unfamiliar surroundings.

Only, in a way, I still was all those things. This jail was familiar but new. My hunger had only grown. I must have eaten food but didn’t know how long solitary confinement had gone on for.

“...stand in the yellow circle...”

Following directions was within my abilities. I shuffled toward the destination which lay buried under destroyed objects. One arm felt hot. My shoulder blades itched. I wanted to grow to the larger version of myself and escape. Something dangerous was nearby but hung out of sight. I could sense currents moving deep underwater, immense and agitated. It moved like my tail did when annoyed, only bigger.

I shook my head repeatedly. A clammy feeling crawled over my skin. Both lungs gasped for air, each breath more labored than the last.

Everything shook again, worse than the prior occurrence jolting me out of the past. Both hands covered my head and I ducked to the ground. Heat in the room spiked along with the feeling of suffocation and annoying lethargy. I felt heavily sedated again, but couldn’t be.

Need to escape. Need fresh air. Need to eat.

“And await further instructions,” came the message’s repeat.

The room stopped vibrating. My stomach felt bloated and the hungry feeling numbed and faded, leaving a disturbing absence in its wake. I still felt heated but as things stayed quiet even that drifted off, leaving me huffing and struggling to control my breathing.

I couldn’t afford to transform here, not with the risk of Hunters. Whatever danger there was must have abated. Again the warning message looped. I lay, curled on the ground, recovering.

Someone knocked loudly on the door before shouting, “Inmate one, three, seven, four, four, please step back. Any attempt to escape will be met with a lethal response.”

Right, because I felt mentally and emotionally equipped for a jailbreak. Instead of shouting back my first response, I settled for “okay” and tried to at least sit.

One guard opened the door with his hand tightly clutching his firearm, ready to shoot. Two more stood behind him with clear lines of sight. They shifted uneasily.

“Confirmed,” he spoke into a shoulder piece. “One, three, seven, four, four, is alive and appears unharmed. Room’s a mess, though. Put him down for a contraband check.”

Garbled words bounced through the equipment.

“You able to stand?” the guard asked.

I didn’t nod and slowly climbed to my feet. The guards trailed my every move with their guns.

“I’ve got a pair of arm and leg restraints, once they’re on we’ll holster, sound fair?” he said.

Cue the indifferent shrug. What was I going to do, hold out for a better deal? Bullets hurt and getting shot wasn’t on my list of desires.

I turned around slowly. They clinked everything into place and allowed me to sit. One guard left and the other two stayed for some reason.

My eyebrow raise was question enough. One guard shrugged. “Orders said to secure you,” he said. They were Western Sector guards but it was likely Warden Bennett wanted to talk.

It felt worth confirming. “Warden’s orders?” I questioned.

“You got it. He signs the paychecks. We dance his tune.”

Neither one gave me dirty glares or sideways glances. They were really treating this like a job. Maybe they were messed up from the big shake earlier but they didn’t let it cause hostility.

Then again, I didn’t put up a lot of argument either. I would be willing to bet people like Spike might mouth off. Attitude garnered attitude in response.

“You get earthquakes often out here?” I asked.

“No,” the other guard responded. His jaw set firmly to one side.

Both guards remained near the door, leaving me the interior. They alternated between my figure and the walls. More than once I could see them looking at my hands, likely the fingernails for any sign of what had dug grooves in the walls.

“They assigned you a psyche yet?” one asked. He sounded a bit more soft-spoken than the other guard.

I blinked.

“He hasn’t had a sentence come down yet,” the gruffer man answered for me.

“Really? Given these walls, you’re going to need a mile of rehabilitation. You couldn’t have scored high with this kind of outburst.” The lighter toned guard shook his head while scanning the damage.

I couldn’t tell much difference between the two beyond a slight difference in skin color. One was brown from more than a tan, the other a slightly tanned white. Both wore a suit that blocked almost all their features.

“I have anger management issues,” I admitted.

“Hah. I’ll bet.” The gruff darker one shook for a moment.

His friend nodded and said in a surprisingly friendly tone, “Need a psyche, they’ll help you get on track.”

It didn’t matter how many times I thought about it. Their attitude toward inmates was out of place.

I raised an eyebrow and played along. “Oh?” I said.

“If you work at it. I’ve seen people come in here all wound wrong. There have been a few who’ve really tried, talk to a shrink, attend the sessions, really work at it. Even a wolf can get back on track, sometimes easier than humans or vampires. It’s good, too, you stay straight out there, means less shit for us to worry about.”

“Or they don’t,” came my bitter response.

They shuffled uneasily for a moment. Maybe they didn’t like the idea of us dying in here. I couldn’t say for sure what made them pause their friendly advice.

“How many strikes they got on you?” the darker one asked.

“One and a half,” I replied.

“Half?” The whiter guard smirked. “Ain’t a thing. Guess they can’t push you over until a sentence comes down.”

“Now, Marshall, you shouldn’t be revealing trade secrets like that,” a bored voice said.

Warden Bennett had arrived, and now I knew the whiter man was named Marshall. Unless Marshall was his title.

“Warden Bennett, sir. I was just trying to help,” the man who might be Marshall responded with a jerk.

“Caretakers. You’re dismissed.”

Warden Bennett stepped into the room and glanced around. His face twitched in surprise that was rapidly reined in. Neither of the guards remained in sight. They’d left me bound tight so security wasn’t an issue. The Warden hit like any other vampire so he wasn’t exactly defenseless.

I offered a conversation starter. “He was chatty.”

“Marshall had a brother who stayed with us briefly. He righted himself after a lot of work.” The Warden took a single deep slow breath. “It is possible to redeem the wrongs that earn people their stay, and make no mistake, correcting people’s ability to interact with society is what Atlas is all about.”

That was a load of shit, so I called him on it. “Or sending them to the other side to die.”

“Society has no place for those who can’t function within its bounds.”

I repeated Western Sector’s motto like a puppet, “Everything for the Peace.” This place was their correctional institute. It made sense their ideals would encompass its actions.

“Indeed, Mr. Fields.”

My head shook slowly.

“Why are you here, Warden? I assumed you’d get me booted to the other side as quickly as possible.”

“Were things so simple, perhaps. The state of this room could be considered a strike were I inclined.” Warden Bennett walked over to one of the walls and inspected the scorch marks.

“However, as Marshall said, until you’ve been given an official sentence, it’s unwelcome to put your life at risk in any severe fashion.”

“Then what?”

“What relation do you have to Western Sector?”

The question caught me so off guard it was impossible to hide the surprise from my expression.

“I’ll save you the how. Every inmate to Atlas has a check run. Your case warranted further investigation. I found it carefully filed away through layers of tape, which only served to intrigue me.”

I leaned back and rested my head against the wall and suppressed a sigh.

“By all normal processes you would have been bundled up and shipped to Atlas years ago, but there’s no record on file of any attempts. Then nothing for years, and the last finger on your sheet belonged to Daniel Crumfield.”

I didn’t even know what to say. The truth was out, but Warden Bennett didn’t seem like the type to ask questions when he was missing puzzle pieces.

Vampires. Hell. Decades of time to learn skills, to read faces, hear heartbeats stutter at any attempted lie. Even asking the right questions would speed my pulse enough to reveal something.

Warden Bennett flipped through his sheets of papers. I wanted to rip them out of his hands and see exactly what was written, but small typed print put me to sleep.

“I wondered exactly what was going on, and this earthquake only serves to alarm me more.”

“Get to it, Warden.”

“Assume anything we talk about will be kept in the strictest confidence, and I only ask to ensure you are not a threat to my facility. I’ve invested too much time and effort into making this run smoothly.”

“Still waiting for a question,” I said.

“I believe Jay Fields is a cover, and you’re assuming the identity of a man who died years ago. Are you undercover?”

My heart jumped. Dead? No. But Warden Bennett had given me an out even if he hadn’t intended it. Hell, maybe someone really was looking out for me. Had Daniel been clever enough to stamp the file just in case? His mind was a maze of plans.

“Are you asking if I’m on a sojourn?” I threw out the word in desperation. I’d heard Daniel’s fiancée utter it to a pack inspector. The term was a code word to imply Western Sector agents were undercover as someone else.

“Are you?”

Gods above, I had a chance. I had leverage. The man himself had wandered right into my cell, isolation he placed me into, then just gave me a solution. My heart hammered. This would be dicey.

I stood and let our height and bulk differences do the work for me. Warden Bennett with his albino features seemed even more pale than normal. He stood in the wreck of my room with his clipboard. My hands and feet were bound, but he was still worried about something.

Hell. He was taking carefully shallow breaths, which was a sign of stress for any vampire. They tasted the air for signs of danger.

“I shouldn’t answer that.” My response was deliberately vague.

Both eyes rolled down his features, looking, truly looking. I sized him up like a fighter in the ring, or a debtor who was trying to hide things. He was prey, my prey, in my cell. Angry pleasure thrummed across the back of my mind.

“Very well. Let’s be purely hypothetical.” His voice held steady. The man was pressing forward at least.

Warden Bennett leaned out of the room and glanced side to side. I assumed he’d be calling for help or making sure we were truly alone.

He turned back to me and posed a real question. “If, perhaps, someone were to come to Atlas on a sojourn, what would their aim be?”

“Not you.” Technically the truth. I wanted nothing to do with the Warden or this place.

I’d seen vampires nervous, and Warden Bennett was almost sweating bullets despite my answer.

“And my facility?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then they’d be here for a person. Someone who is a threat. Unless...” His eyebrows creased and for the first time since we’d met I saw the clipboard discarded. It clattered to the floor as he went utterly still.

Warden Bennett blurred into motion toward me. I stepped back and my arms clinked in their bindings. He blinked twice, glaring at me and breathing sharply, then flittered back across the room. Strangely, I could feel where he was moving.

“Is this about my Guardianship?” He was agitated, both eyes spiraling and a vague tint of red crept across his pale skin. “That was the earthquake wasn’t it. It’s waking up. But that’s impossible, we’ve adhered to all the...”

He stopped moving again. I waited on my side of the cell to avoid startling the vampire. The last thing I needed was a Warden of Atlas Island upset with me as he panicked about some secret getting out of control.

I didn’t know for sure, what the pale man meant, but he clearly felt unnerved.

“Something’s wrong. But how could they predict that something, no, that wouldn’t be beyond them. They knew, they knew and sent you here to see. No—” He snapped up the fallen clipboard and flipped through the papers as if it held answers to what his mind was going through. It didn’t. I mean, hopefully there weren’t secrets stored on a clipboard, of all things. “Very well. My brothers and I know our duties. We will resolve things. You’ll see. Then you can report we’ve cared well for all our charges.”

What delusion had crossed his anachronistic mind? He said duties, like there was an entire list on his job description besides ‘Let people at Atlas kill each other.’ It also involved the other Wardens. There were two brothers I’d never seen. They must be busy elsewhere with this guardianship task. I guessed they were taking care of something more than inmates and facility.

“Best get going then, Warden Bennett.” I grinned and tilted my head slightly.

“Guards!” Bennett backed out the door and slammed it shut, leaving me smiling in the midst of my torn room.

Without a clue I’d managed to shift the tables of power. Now I was a ticking time bomb watching over him for some sort of performance improvement. I was a threat or a safety precaution against his charge going out of control.

By the time guards unchained my arms and legs I’d started to worry. That hadn’t been the look of a sane vampire or one thinking calmly about a problem. He’d been afraid, not of me, but of those he suspected sent me forth. What the hell had I just pushed the Warden into?

Word came down an hour later that my solitary stay had been extended but I’d be allowed supervised visitation rights. They’d successfully separated me in order to track my movements.

At least they gave me clean sheets and replaced the shined metal with an unbent version. Atlas could be accommodating.

***

Tal had been trying to get my attention for a few minutes. Each call in my direction made him more irritated.

“Boy.”

In the memories replaying, childish me had a strange object in my hands. Wooden blocks that slid together. I could feel the edges inside and out, but taking it apart wasn’t clear.

“I’m talking to you, boy.” Tal stood directly over me. I shuddered and scooted out of his shadow to the nearest wall. He sighed and shook but the feelings were distant. “This is foolish. We need a name for you.”

Days ago they’d asked me what I should be called, but my mouth didn’t form the words right. Saying the sound didn’t come with the right rumbles of earth and a single low note. Human mouths couldn’t produce the word.

“Okay,” I agreed. We had covered the subject once, and I didn’t really care as long as they didn’t try to touch me again.

“What do you want to be called?”

“Boy seems fine,” Roy suggested. Most of the time he was quiet and worked hard. He said less than I did, which was nothing like Daniel the chatterbox.

I could almost separate my mind into the present and past. Watching these events from decades ago came with a certain amount of disconnect. But I knew Roy and I were never very sociable, even as children.

“It’s not right to be without a name,” Tal grumbled.

“You won’t use it until he’s proven to be a man.” Bitterness had barely been covered up by Roy’s dispassionate tone.

“Having a name and being recognized by it are different things. Until I was a Champion people just called me the challenger.” They seemed more concerned with jostling each other than me. I stood against the wall, fussing with the puzzle. My stomach would be rumbling soon but the problem helped distract me.

Tal went on, “In the army no one ever addressed me by anything other than rank.”

The father and son seemed oblivious to the others’ feelings. I could see the older man explaining his views on respect. The younger male was desperately trying not to roll his eyes while skipping a jump rope.

All this passed through my mind while fingers struggled with the wooden blocks. I finally put too much pressure on the wrong spot and a piece snapped off. Seconds later I’d crunched the whole delicate puzzle to bits and felt my lip quiver. It wasn’t fair.

“Boy seems fine,” Roy said again. “He doesn’t respond to anything but food anyway.” I’d bent over to pick up my broken puzzle when Roy said the magic word.

“Food? Hamburger? Other meat?” I perked up.

Roy’s head shook. “See? He’s bottomless. Call him Pit.”

“So are you. Boys. I swear a girl would have been easier,” Tal said with an annoyed frown. “Maybe Crumfield will have an idea.”

“You don’t even use his name right, why does it matter?”

“All sorts of things require a name. Sooner or later we’ll have to send him to school.” Tal sounded like he was chewing on his inner lip. “It’s been a week since he’s broken anything. He’s learning control.”

“That’s not control,” Roy said.

I gave Roy a sidelong glance only to see him staring at me from a few feet away. He studied me like I did the busted puzzle. A quick glance his direction picked out key features. Father and son both had protruding lower jaws where bottom teeth stuck out at an uncommon slant. Both had slightly yellow skin which no one else mentioned.

I’d seen all sorts of skin colors since landing in this world. One man had been a bright red and afraid to be touched. Another, a deep black and without hair on his head. Two smaller children had tiny eyes and wide smiles in light yellow skin.

No one cared about color difference. There were other differences that made some nervous. One man, white skinned, was treated with wariness by everyone but Tal. He moved quickly but in a sloppy manner, yet still managed a straight line. As if he couldn’t make himself turn when moving fast.

A flicker of motion headed my way. It sent me scooting farther from Tal. He gave me another glance and I tried to pretend that I wasn’t watching them back. They were nice enough but having people close by was uncomfortable.

They had food, though, and that was a far cry better than where I’d been. Even if Tal had declared all my belongings to be trash and refused to bring most of it home.

I got to keep a few marbles that had been scattered and lost in one office. They were hidden between mattresses in my new room upstairs.

Tal pointed at me. “Say that name, the one you tried to do before.”

I attempted once more but nothing sensible came out. It felt like trying to speak with duct tape over my mouth. There was so much missing. It might be easier once I’d grown up. I could hear the edge of a memory, or a rumble that came from my father.

The replay of my childish past shook for a moment. Even then, my dad’s voice had been in the back of my head. Present, hard to pick out, and belonging to a figure I’d never seen before. It bothered me now, as an adult, to be so close and so far from the man who’d sired me.

“Jaor?” Tal asked.

“That’s not right.” I shook my head and kept at the puzzle. The pieces could go back together if I moved carefully. They had material in one of the drawers which helped put frail wood constructs back into one piece.

“How about we pretend to shorten it to just the first letter. Jay,” Roy offered. He frowned in annoyance.

I shrugged.

“Jay works for me,” Tal agreed.

“Okay,” I said.

“You are a strange boy,” the older man said. Roy paused for a moment and switched from the rope to something else.

“Okay,” I agreed. Their opinions didn’t matter as long as food kept arriving regularly. I’d suffer nearly anything to avoid that gnawing hunger which had plagued my first few weeks.

“Roy, you’re still working with him, right?” the older man asked.

“We’re on the kindergarten books.”

We had been. Reading hurt my head. Letters were tiny and squiggly creations made by demons. I knew then, at a young age, that there were demons. My father had told me.

Tal nodded, then ordered, “Good, keep tutoring him. He’s still too ignorant.”

The last word set me off. “What’s that?” I paused in my attempt to reassemble the broken puzzle and stared at Tal Forge.

He sighed and answered with, “It means you don’t know a lot of things.”

Now I was mad. “I know a lot.” Failing to understand wasn’t my fault. Nothing here made sense or felt familiar. Nothing lined up against the thoughts rolling around my head.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Roy challenged me.

Tal stood back and looked between the two of us.

“I know your feet are wrong when you do the swoosh swoosh smash at night.” I felt proud of my first answer.

They both looked confused. I was probably being ignorant by not explaining it right, but that was hardly my fault. Then Tal’s face grew worried and he stepped into my line of sight, not getting closer, but definitely focused. His face bordered between worry and upset.

“Have you been sneaking downstairs at night?” he asked.

“No.” I stayed in my room most nights. Blankets piled around me, pillows and other objects pulled into the corner like a fort. Inside my safe spot, I studied the marbles I’d gathered.

Tal stepped closer. I stepped back. He asked, “How do you know his foot is wrong?”

“I feel it,” I said with all the sheepishness a young child could muster. Saying I felt things would be crazy, but no one else seemed to pick up vibrations quite like I did.

Roy had stopped all his exercises as an angry expression fell across his face. The jaw grew firm and his eyes narrowed. “Likely story,” he said.

I nodded. “You only step twice.”

“So?” Roy questioned.

“That’s not how it should go.”

Roy started to say something but was cut off by a sharp look and half growl from Tal. “Explain yourself, boy.” He’d already forgotten the name decided upon.

I couldn’t say it right, but showing them was easy enough. “You should step like this.”

My feet weren’t big like the people in my memories. They didn’t move with the same grace or speed. But I could see a picture in my head of a lot of men standing and moving in unison. Their feet created a beat like a solid drum being banged upon the earth.

The memory within a memory swept me away. I saw men who looked like Roy and Tal, saw how they moved. Felt their vibrations. Mimicking what was in my memory was a far different thing. I tried and proceeded to fall on my face.

Tal’s breath took a sharp intake and he looked pensive.

“Stand up. Do it again,” he ordered.

Falling had brought me too close to Tal’s larger form. I’d seen him hit punching bags, hold mitts for other fighters down here, so being within his grasp frightened me.

I shook my head.

Tal couldn’t restrain himself. His face pinched as he got closer. I stepped back and found myself against a table.

“Show me again, runt,” he said.

I shook my head.

“Show me now.” Tal turned on full drill sergeant mode and pointed aggressively with a finger. His stance seemed to swell and fill the room.

That caused me to retreat more by wiggling past the table and toward the stairs. I didn’t even have to reach out and feel for a wall. I knew the route up to my room like any normal person could touch their elbow by reflex.

“Show me,” Tal said, much louder. I could feel people in the other part of the building shift their bodyweights. Some heads turned to peer toward us, which only made me feel more hunted.

“You should offer him food.” Roy’s voice broke through the winnowing world view with the magic word.

I paused and cocked my head in the younger male’s direction. Even Tal paused.

“Hamburger?” Tal asked at last. “Would you show us again for a hamburger?”

I almost caved but wanted more. My mouth hung open slightly and drool formed.

“Steak?” Tal offered, clearly onto a bribe tool.

That got me. I’d fail any number of times for a medium rare slab of cow. Not just the ground up leftovers, but a whole chunk carved off. Tal got cable television. I’d watched the food channel avidly for the last two days in the main living room upstairs. I’d even sneaked out at night when the others fell asleep just to turn it on. They showed images of something called ‘barbeque’ that I wanted to smell and taste very badly.

“Just like on channel seven! Steak. Medium rare. Seasoned to perfection!” I shouted all the phrases and dodged past Tal to the largest open space of their house. The home itself sat attached to the gym. All thoughts of other people working out faded away as I prepared to earn myself a real meal.

I stomped one foot down, attempting to mimic the deep thumping pound from my memories. “The other foot. Like this. It must beat. Thud. Thud. Thud.”

I stayed slow in my motions and still failed to get the placement right. Despite this I kept attempting to go through, saying the beats with each movement. They were important to the army of people in my memory, so they must be equally important to Tal and Roy. Food was riding on my success.

Whatever I did made the other two stop and stare. Even Roy put down the jump rope and huddled next to his father. They reminded me of puffy birds watching crumbs of food.

“Where? How? No. Who taught you to move… like that?” Roy seemed flabbergasted and upset. Like I’d stumbled on a secret treasure trove of food that I shouldn’t know about.

“Was it your father? Or someone else?” Tal tried to pry an answer out of me. My motions were falling apart.

“Where’s my steak? I showed you the thud. Thump. Thump.” I repeated the steps eagerly.

Their distraction would make the steak harder to get. At that young age I’d made it my life’s mission to find all the edible material in their home. Some of the metal boxes all in a row downstairs had wrapped bars. I’d been chastised when eating one.

I assumed, at the time, that those bars were some form of poison. Only a monster would leave such terrible tasting food inside an attractive wrapper like that.

“Who was it?” Tal was suddenly too close again and I shrank back.

“No one,” I responded.

“How do you know we do this?” Tal said.

That question was easy. “I feel it.”

“Feel?”

“You know. Feel. Like, touch. Every night after dark. Swoosh. Swoosh.” I scowled and scrunched my eyebrows and shook the table to represent the rumble. “Again! Your words shake the walls. Shake.”

There was another pause just before Roy could no longer control himself. For the first time since my arrival, the younger boy laughed; truly sounding his age. He bordered between not quite a teen yet not a child. Roy laughed for a long, long time.

“Steak now?” I asked.

Tal smiled faintly.