Sam

Sam let herself be pulled along until they were walking among old, twisted trees, the waning sunlight further softened under a cover of twisted branches. She was still surprised by her new strength—somehow, she felt that if she wanted to, she could easily have resisted Will’s efforts to move her. It was an intoxicating feeling. Despite the fact that Will had never been particularly athletic, he had always been stronger than her ever since they entered puberty. That was just the difference between boys and girls. She had long ago been forced to accept that no amount of training could change that simple biological fact.

But now…

Could the number ‘8’ on a silly sheet of paper really have changed so much?

Despite all this, Sam pretended that she was helpless to resist, because she didn’t mind Will showing his assertive side. If anything, it was making her stomach tingle with butterflies.

Now that they were alone, an awkward silence descended between them that was only broken by the rustle of leaves above and the crunching of dead branches underfoot.

After some time, she realized that Will’s hand wasn’t just clammy because he was nervous—he was breathing heavy, too, and his face had an unhealthy sheen of sweat. His step began to grow unsteady, and soon she was holding him up as much as he was leading her along.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked. “Are you ill?”

“No,” Will panted breathlessly, giving her a tired smile that might have been meant to look reassuring. “Just a little tired, that’s all. I was kind of in a rush to find you.”

“You don’t seem ‘just a little tired’ to me.”

“I’m fine, Sam. Really.” Reluctantly, he motioned for her to set him down against a nearly cube-shaped rock protruding from the ground. “I just need a breather.”

“That’s what people say in movies before they die, Will.” Her bunched-up chain clinked as she seated herself cross-legged in the undergrowth opposite him, letting the pile of heavy links pool in her lap.

“You are such a brat,” Will muttered.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

There was another silence. Sam fumbled for something to say, cleared her throat, made random percussive noises with her mouth. “So… What’s up with your weird monster eye?”

“Oh, that’s a long story.” Will scratched at his stitched-up eye somewhat sheepishly.

“And your finger!” She only noticed now that he was missing his left pinky.

He let his hand drop, covering it with the other. “Also a long story. Same one, really. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Later, Sam.”

She scoffed. “Fine, geez.” She reached for something else to say, chuckled. “You know it was really goofy when you told that guy you’d cut him in half, don’t you?”

“Goofy?” Will asked, frowning. “I wasn’t joking.”

“No one cuts anyone in half, Will. That’s stupid.”

“You haven’t been in the Frontier long enough if that’s what you think.”

“Right, right. Of course.” She drummed her hands on her knees. “How were you going to cut him in half, anyway? Logistically, I mean. Lengthwise? Across? Diagonal, even?”

“Use your imagination.”

Sam rolled her eyes. What an edgy little nerd. Definitely not sexy, she reminded herself.

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Just to be safe, she kept her eyes off his stubbled jawline. That was new. He hadn’t been able to grow any facial hair more than a few pubey chin hairs last time she’d seen him.

Will leaned back against the rock, breathing heavy, a grating rasp in his throat when he inhaled. It made her shiver, reminding her of those last few months, the hospital bed, the tube shoved down his trachea to keep his lungs inflating when he got too weak to do it himself. Watching him slowly waste away. Sam squeezed her eyes shut to dispel the memory, but that only made it stand out stark against the backs of her eyelids.

“I’m sorry for letting you go through that,” he said, looking up into the green canopy, his tired voice bringing her back to the present. “I should have been faster.”

Sam grinned. “At least I’ll be able to tick ‘slavery’ off the bucket list.”

“I just hope your new friends know how to keep their mouths shut. You don’t know how precarious the situation is right now.”

“Why couldn’t we take them with us?”

“I don’t trust them not to gut us in our sleep. Besides, if you start picking up strays in this place, that’s all you’ll be doing for the rest of your life. I’ve got enough as it is.”

“Does that mean I’m not the first girl you’ve fished out of the ocean?” Sam asked, the hardness in her voice only half-joking.

Will chuckled. “Don’t worry—I reserved that honor just for you.”

Sam watched Will attempt to get his breath back for some time, and began inching closer to him. Their knees were almost touching before she realized what she was doing, but by then it would have been too awkward to shuffle away again, so she endured the close proximity despite the fact that it made her cheeks flush. He smelled like sweat. It wasn’t sexy at all.

When he looked like he was about to slump over, she pushed him back against the rock again. “Seriously, Will, what’s wrong with you? This isn’t just tired. You haven’t…?”

“I haven’t gotten sick again,” Will replied, completing her thought. “I pushed myself a bit too hard, that's all.” He held out his left arm, and hiked up the sleeve to reveal a circular mark similar to her own, depicting a cauldron instead of a hammer. However, where Sam only had one crystal studding her arm, Will had… she counted fourteen. A full line of ten going down almost to his wrist, and another that stopped short. A few of them shone with a soft blue glow, like Sam’s did, but more than half of them were dark—nearly black. He tapped one of the dull ones with a fingernail. “These things are called AP crystals. You gain one with every level, so by counting how many another person has, you can tell what level they are.”

“So you’re Level 14?”

“That’s right.”

“And I’m Level 1?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Is fourteen a lot?”

Will gave a half-shrug. “Well, I don’t want to brag…”

“Oh, shut up.” She repressed the urge to punch him in the tit, fearing she might collapse his rib cage with her new strength.

He smiled wanly. “But yeah, fourteen is considered a lot. Most people plateau around, hmm… Between five and seven, I’d say. Anything over ten will start to get you some looks.”

“Right, right, I’m very impressed. But we were talking about the reason you look like death caught the flu.”

“I’m getting there. These AP crystals aren’t just decoration. They store energy—energy you can use to cast skills given to you by the Concord.”

“Right.”

“When you use a lot of them, it puts a toll on your body. It’s called skill fatigue. If you overdo it, it can build up enough to put you out of commission for a while. Even kill you, in very extreme cases.”

“And you overdid it?”

“Like I said, I was in a hurry.” He shrugged. “And there was a lot of running involved.”

“But you’ll be fine, right? You won’t be coughing up a lung or anything?”

“Yeah. I just need a minute before I can keep going. It’s not much further to where we’re headed.”

Sam nodded. Despite the derisive smile she affected, she was relieved. “So… What’s this place we’re headed to?”

“I have a house.”

“Brag about it, why don’t you.”

Will’s one eye fixed her with a hard look, but he eventually broke into a smile. “You’ll be meeting a few… acquaintances of mine when we get there. They can be a little colorful, but they’re fine, for the most part.”

“You’re telling me you have friends? Now I know you’re lying.”

“Such a brat,” Will muttered, but didn’t challenge her further. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a paper packet, extracting a cigarette from it and pinching it between his lips.

“Oh yeah, that’ll really help you catch your breath.”

Ignoring her, Will struck a match and lit up his cigarette, giving it a few hard puffs before exhaling twin plumes through his nostrils with a grateful sigh. “I’ll have you know,” he said, “these are a herbal product of my own design. And no, it won’t give me cancer—they’re actually healthy for you.” He coughed and cleared his throat. “In moderation, anyway. Care to try?”

Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Boring.”

“Dude, you’re not going to peer-pressure me into smoking—I’m not thirteen years old.”

“Yeah, I forgot how much you hate fun.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

They chuckled.

Surprisingly, Will did seem perkier after a little influx of tar in his lungs. Standing up, he waved aside Sam’s efforts to steady him. “Let’s get moving,” he said. “Best not to get caught out here at night.”

“Why?” Sam asked.

He offered her a lop-sided smile. “There are worse things than slave traders in these parts.”

That’s not ominous.

When Will started moving, Sam trotted along after. “You know what way we’re going, right?” It all looked the same to her.

He didn’t answer. Not cute at all.