I sat up quietly, easing my clothes on, every movement careful, deliberate. I lay back down and counted to one hundred again afterward, making sure no one stirred. I didn’t want their blessed ears to pick up on anything, like I’d heard them discussing that first day. After a while, I got up out of bed as quietly as I could and walked toward the door.

I had the clothes on my back, and that was it. Clearly, I was fully prepared to break out of the fink trainer and the tower all by myself. This was going to go so well.

I gently opened the door, feeling my entire body fill with shock when there was a little squeak on one of the hinges. I stood still for maybe ten seconds while the light poured into the room, but no one stirred.

I gently squeezed through the door before just as gently closing it. I let out a sigh of relief as it clicked shut. I straightened up, knowing stealth was never my strong suit. I decided speed would have to make up for it as I sprinted as lightly as I could toward the bins I’d seen the light flicker at.

After I exited the main building, I went around the side and found my prize. I opened it up a little too loudly, jumping as the lid slammed on the back. I decided that I had to move even faster now, checking inside and finding a bag full of leftover food. I picked it up, smelled it, and, not immediately picking up any rot, decided it was good enough. I slung it over my shoulder and started running toward where we entered three days earlier.

There was a big fence covered in barbed wire surrounding the compound, leading to a gate with a small building attached, its walls covered in glass. Luckily, I could see only one guard through the glass, sleeping with a book over his eyes. I left him to his nap as I raced through, wishing my dice would roll so I could run just a little faster.

As I ran out, I heard a shout coming from one side of the fence, down the road that led around the side of the base. Curiosity immediately got the better of me as I stepped as lightly as possible toward the corner, peeking around it to see what was happening.

There, I saw a beautiful sight. The Lieutenants who had beaten me and Lieutenant Zenzele, all face down in front of Colonel Walker, as he seemed to be seething under his breath, before he all of a sudden shouted again, “And you beat a Lieutenant! A Lieutenant! Are you not supposed to serve side by side? To be the backbone of our society, of our training for the sleeveless? Fucking pathetic. Run. Until your legs give out. Then crawl in the dirt where you belong.”

I saw that his tattoo was glowing, and from the way the Lieutenants stumbled, knees buckling like their bones were turning to lead, I knew Colonel Walker was making them weigh what must have felt like two tons. Each step left an indent in the dirt, like they were being ground into the earth itself. A real punishment would’ve been breaking their ribs like they broke mine. Instead, they’d just be sore tomorrow.

Is this it? This is the best punishment he could come up with? A bit of running and pushups? From the way he was acting, I thought I had finally found a fair fink. Guess I was wrong.

I left them, running back toward the gate, and then I ran toward the city in the distance, the bag thumping against my back. I thought about it. I stopped, and thought about it some more. How the hell would I get past that huge gate we had come through to enter the tower? How would I even get through the city without being stopped and questioned?

I shook my head, running faster, feeling every bruise and cracked rib shoot pain straight through me. But I got over it, as I looked to the top of that giant statue, aiming for it like a compass pointing me to true north. I arrived at the city, the buildings looming over me, as I kept running straight, trying to remember where the bus had taken us.

I hadn't realized it in the warehouse, but now that I was running in the city, I saw buildings flying past, like I was in a car. I had never felt so fast before, feeling like a child again, running through the church, the whole world a blur. I saw cars that seemed from cartoons going past me, lights in windows above me, even passing a few people who gave the bag over my shoulder an odd look, but mostly just ignored me, thankfully. I even saw one fink holding onto a ball of light in his hand, flying right over my head, if you can believe that.

And then I was running through the city center, staring up at that large statue we’d driven past on the way here. I felt so grateful, since he had been guiding me the whole way here, and I knew his watch pointed straight at that tunnel I needed to get to. As I ran past, I just said, “Thanks, Alex. Can you just see me the rest of the way home, please?”, The statue didn't answer, just standing there menacingly.

Finally, I was back in front of that long tunnel. I gave myself a breath before I sprinted through it, as fast as I possibly could. The bus had felt like it had taken ten minutes to go through the tunnel, but I got through in less than two.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

As I came towards the entrance, I slowed down, trying to blend into the dark with my white tunic. Yes, I am very intelligent. Don't look at me that way.

Anyway, I slinked up just before the large gate. A fink was sitting before it, reading a magazine, while I heard music thumping from a large building close by, hearing laughter and shouting exiting the slightly cracked window next to the door.

Okay. Only one of them. I can do this.

I walked up behind the fink, keeping my breath shallow. A single gold band went around his sleeve. I was only five steps away. Just a few more…

“Come on, Max, you know you can't sneak up on me,” he said, briefly glancing over his shoulder before going back to his magazine. Then, he shot up out of his chair.

Which is what he would have done, if I didn’t wrap my arm around his throat, clamping my hand over my bicep and sliding my hand behind his head, like Lieutenant Galina had shown me. I squeezed as hard as I could while dragging him backward, knocking over his chair in the process. I stared at the door, even as the dice rolled past my eyes, landing on top of his head quite neatly actually, the one staring at me in the face as I looked down at his limp body.

I kept squeezing for another twenty, maybe thirty seconds, before I let go. Gently, I picked him up and threw him over my shoulder, taking the fallen chair with me. I placed him carefully down on the desk with his magazine, arranging his body in a way that would make him appear to be asleep.

I checked his neck, and thankfully, I hadn’t squished it. That would have been a problem. I picked up my trash bag, feeling like a spy before I opened the gate, just like I had done with the door to the dormitory. I slipped out gently into the real night sky, seeing real moonlight instead of the strange blue color that only seemed to dim during the night in the tower.

I ran towards Goudstad, the dice wearing off not even a minute after I had gotten the guard unconscious. Breathing in the fresh air, I felt like a million dollars before arriving at the outskirts of the city. I knew this place well; I'd been begging here for years after all. I ran around the outskirts of the city, moving through back alleys to avoid pedestrians, ignoring the lights as I raced past.

My lungs were burning, the bag bouncing on my back, sloshing all the food around. I ran past cars, even got hooted at by one guy as I exited a back alley and ran into the road. I kicked his bonnet, denting it far more than I intended, before continuing toward the only people that mattered.

I kept speeding up, even as my legs felt like they were going to give out, running faster than a few cars as they slowed for traffic lights. Then I was out of the city, on the road toward the township.

I stopped running once I arrived at the street where Jimmy had dropped me off what felt like a lifetime ago, panting with my knees bent. Then, I said angrily under my breath, “They would have moved already! They won’t be there! Fuck!” I was almost shouting now, dropping my bag of slosh onto the ground before thinking it over.

“Okay! Where would they be? On the other side of Goudstad? No, that would take too long. Maybe the other side of the township?” I shook my head, even as I thought it through. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, so I just decided to go to the church for now, kick the shit out of any squatters I found, and then interrogate them for a note that Maria would probably leave.

She… she thought I was dead, probably wouldn't leave a note. Fuck it, I thought to myself. Gotta to start somewhere.

Finally, I walked up to my church, dropped the bag on the front door, and opened it quietly. Hopefully, I could take out a squatter like I’d done earlier before the fight kicked off.

I opened the door and froze. The devil had left me a gift, wrapped in still bodies and shallow breaths—a cruel joke in the shape of a miracle. All my kids were there, huddled against Maria, clinging to her as if she was the last warmth in a frozen world. The few beds were just as full, older children gripping the younger ones in a vice, like they knew even in sleep that letting go meant losing everything.

I wanted to cry. No—I was crying. Tears blurred my vision, hot and useless. They should have left. They had three whole days. I wasn’t supposed to find them here, curled together like sheep in a slaughterhouse. I was supposed to come back to an empty church, not this. Not them. Had I really fought, stolen, and beaten men bloody for nothing? Had I really sold my soul just to come back and see them waiting for me—like fools? Like I was worth waiting for? Like I didn’t die in that fall?

I shook my head, chasing the thoughts away before I walked up to Maria, little Yelena’s head in her lap, probably fallen asleep while Maria stroked her hair again. I smiled down at her, blinking away those pesky tears. I lifted my tunic, wiped my face clean, and gently shook Maria’s shoulders, like I'd woken her up a thousand times before.

“Hey, time to get up,” I whispered, gently shaking her shoulders. Her eyes fluttered open, but everything about her seemed sluggish, like she was waking up underwater. Each blink stretched out, her movements syrupy and deliberate. Her gaze drifted up to me, confusion dawning inch by inch, as though it were being painted on her face. I watched in real-time as her pupils focused, her brows furrowed, and her lips parted ever so slowly, the pieces of recognition assembling in painstaking detail.

“Boris?” she finally said, her voice dragging, the sound as deliberate as her expression, every syllable a measured echo of shock.