Radicals by Rose Frankie

Author:Rose, Frankie [Rose, Frankie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, Dystopian, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Romance, Science Fiction, Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction
Publisher: Frankie Rose
Published: 2014-05-22T07:00:00+00:00

Steel meets skin. A low growl echoes off the tight walls of the musty-smelling room. Hands, feet, twisting bodies. The space is too small to tell how many people are attacking, bleeding, fighting. I feel hands on a body next to me and I lash out, trying to keep the other person back. The attacker growls but keeps his distance. More boots scuffle. I hedge out of the way, and suddenly hands are shoving me backward. My back slams into something, a metal bar of some kind, and the air hisses from my lungs. That really hurt.

“Kit, get downstairs! Get the others!” Ryka shouts. His voice tells me he’s on the other side of the room. Goodness knows who I was just defending, but it wasn’t him. I reach out, palms first, searching for the wall. I need to find the doorway. This inky black environment is hardly ideal, makes it impossible to see, but thankfully my senses are alive and screaming. Screaming at me to duck. I do it, and the sound of metal hitting stone clatters right by head. Damn it! That would have hit me square in the face. These people are really starting to piss me off.

My palms eventually hit two separate walls; they meet at a ninety-degree angle—a corner. I crouch down and close my eyes, covering my face with my hands. I’m not freaking out. I’m making the dark even darker. When I open my eyes they have adjusted somewhat, the room made up of deep greys and silvers now, and I can see the three men who have attacked us.

Two of them are wrestling with Ryka on the floor, while the other one stalks from one side of the room to the other, searching for me. The exit is on the other side of the room. I’m not going for the exit; it’s only a matter of seconds before the other guy finds me, anyway, so I wait. I hold my breath when he gets close.

We have a sixth sense, most of us, I’ve learned, and no matter whether or not you can see someone watching you, often you can sense it. This guy is no exception. He knows I’m watching him; he knows I’m still in the room.

“Get over here, Seth!” a voice calls out. The other two are struggling and failing to overpower Ryka, which makes me smile on the inside. On the outside, I’m expressionless as I wait.

The guy in front of me tilts his head toward me and I know it’s coming. I know it’s seconds away. I know—

A knife sings through the air, slashing toward me. He misses, and I don’t let him pull back his arm. I snap my hand out, wrap my fingers around his wrist, and I rotate. His whole arm twists and he gasps out in pain. I ignore it—it’s his own fault. So is what comes next. I reach down and pluck the first knife I find out of my belt. The Balisong.

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