Fallon: Prologue, Chapters 1-2

This is one of my more recent developments. I haven't gotten very far but I'm still working on it.

Prologue
Fear. In my world it’s the only ting that keeps you alive. The fearless do not exist; they were killed off years ago. Too dangerous for civilized life, Fallon became a prison for the system’s most infamous and notorious criminals. From serial killers and rapists to drug lords and mafia, only the worst of the worst were subjected to life on Fallon.
Once deported your life became nothing more than a memory lost to time, for once here there are only two sentences: life or death. Who you were makes no difference. The most powerful drug lords have died at the hands of murderers who they had used and abused as disposable underlings. Once on Fallon a new life begins, primal and savage. Only the strong survive and the strong are the Vale.
As time passed men have tried and failed to subjugate the few who had managed to survive the planet’s unforgiving environment. Clans came and went as leaders rose and fell in an attempt to conquer Fallon’s outcast population. All failed until Thor, son of a former drug lord and serial killer fought his way to the top, gathering followers with each bloody step. And so arose the first Vale.
Now, three generations later, you are either Vale or you are dead, for if the planet doesn’t kill you, they will.
And now I suppose you’re wondering how a seventeen year old girl ended up on such an unforgiving and inhospitable planet.
Come with me and I’ll tell you a tale…



Chapter 1
Odds
A young girl of fourteen, innocent, naïve, and ready for anything life would throw at her, I was too adventurous for my own good. A result of my strict upbringing and unyielding parents, my rebellious spirit was just beginning to rear its head.
So, two months before my fifteenth birthday my friends convince me, with little resistance on my part, to ditch violin lessons. It wasn’t long before we found ourselves on the wrong side of town, hiding behind a dumpster at the head of the infamous drug dealer’s alley.

Day was quickly fading to dusk, a cool breeze replacing the muggy heat of the day. A shiver crawled its way down my spine as I witnessed the happenings of drug dealer’s alley. Maggie cowered behind Steven, a mix of fear and excitement lighting her eyes.
Minutes passed, druggies and dealers alike coming and going. It wasn’t hard to tell the two apart. The druggies were almost always disheveled with that desperate, hungry look in their eyes. The dealers were more put together. It was a rule that the dealers never partook; they knew what would happen to them if they did. They witnessed it everyday, a constant reminder of what could happen if they slipped even once.
I was repulsed and yet at the same time fascinated. Why would anyone choose such a life?
A shove from behind brought me out of my pondering as I nearly fell into the sight of dozens of men and women who would be more than a little upset when they learned they had an audience.
“Are you crazy?” I turned to find Mark with a crooked grin plastered across his face.
“Come on Ver, I dare you. Just a little ways.”
My hands balled into fists. “What do you think I am, ten kinds of stupid? You first,” I spat back at him.
Grabbing his arm, I pulled him forward just to give him a taste of his own medicine, but things went terribly wrong. I hadn’t noticed Mark had hold of my sleeve. Together we crashed to the ground in plain view of the entire alley and all its occupants.
Panic froze my limbs as two ghoulish men ran in our direction, one short and squat, the other tall, dark and ugly. I looked over to find Mark unconscious. I felt a scream building in my lungs as the two men started to run. Control finally returned and I leapt to my feet only to find a pair of large, rough hands restraining me. One of his hands moved to cover my mouth, ready to stifle a scream that would never be heard.
“Not leaving so soon are you? The fun’s just starting.” His breath slithered across my cheek, the stench of it churning my stomach.
“Quit with the sweet talk, Kal.” The short, blonde seemed to inspire fear in the monster who held me captive as he stiffened for a moment before responding in a calm, collected tone.
“Yes Boss.”
The blonde looked from me to Mark still out cold on the refuse encrusted asphalt, to the dumpster where Maggie, John, and Steven still hid. He turned back to me, a smug smile mocking me and the secret I wish I could have kept. Nodding his head in the direction of the dumpster, tall, dark and ugly stepped forward, pulling a gun from his shoulder holster. I tried to scream a warning but Kal’s hand stifled my attempt.
Three shots echoed through the alley, the only sound besides the soft chuckles that sent waves of fury through my veins. Overpowering fear and caution, fury empowered my mind and body. I bit down hard on Kal’s calloused hand, the rusty taste of blood coating my mouth. Grabbing his injured hand I twisted it as far as I could. There was a curse and I was free.
Thought fled as instinct pushed its way forward. I was running without having told my body to do so. There was a dark, open doorway on the right and I knew it was my only hope.
A gunshot stopped me cold in my tracks, but I wasn’t the intended target. I told myself not to look, but I had to. Mark lay as he had before, the only difference was a red stain spreading across his t-shirt.
The tall one had emerged from behind the dumpster, his crisp, white, button down shirt splattered with blood, marking him the murderer he was. All three men stared at me as I looked on in horror.
“Get rid of her and meet me back at the Hart.” The blonde turned around and left as if he had just finished a business transaction.
A few feet from the door, I looked on defiantly as Kal and Ugly raised their guns. I dashed through the doorway as they rushed after me.
Unsure of what propelled me to do it, I huddled against the wall only a few feet from the door, completely enveloped in shadow. Pitch black painted the room dark, only a dusky light penetrated the blanket of blackness. Moments later shadow consumed what little light remained as the two thugs entered.
“You go that way, I’ll take this way.”
I wasn’t sure who had spoken and didn’t really care as long as I could get out of there alive. The two separated slowly fading into the shadows.
Whatever bravery I had felt before was gone, replaced with paralyzing fear. Huddling into the unyielding wall, eyes trained on my only escape I listened intently for any sound of my pursuers. It seemed like years before I dared uncurl my stiff arms and legs. Edging forward I kept my senses peeled for any signs of the two men.
Slipping out the door, I let out an inward sigh of relief. Now if only I could get home safely. I turned for the closest way out and bumped into something solid. I managed to catch myself before knocking my head on the pavement and looked up to see what I had run into. Emotionless blue eyes stared down at me. My stomach twisted in knots as he pulled out his gun and pointed it at my chest.
“Got here just in time it looks like.” Never taking his eyes from me he yelled for his two men. “Kal, Tony, get out here you useless trash.”
An earthquake preceded their breathless arrival at the door.
“Yes Boss?” Bent over in an attempt to catch their breath, they looked up and froze when I met their gaze. Kal raised his gun, eager to fix his mistake and redeem himself.
The Boss turned his gun from me to Kal. “I think you’ve done enough damage for one day.”
Kal raised his hands, gun hanging from a finger.
“Change of plans. It seems the brat is the daughter of Governor Johnson. We kill her and instead of turning a blind eye to drug dealer’s alley, he’ll tear this place apart.”
“So what’re you thinking Boss?” Tony asked returning his gun to its holster. “Ransom?”
“See, this is why your job is to follow orders. Ransom would be just as bad; he’d tear this place apart looking for her. No, we have to lure the dogs away from the trail, set a false trail.”
“Then why not kill her and hide the body?” Kal interjected.
“Because you dimwit, there’s always a chance they’ll find the body and we can’t take that risk. We have to take her somewhere she can’t escape and blab about everything she’s seen and heard, somewhere no one will ever find her.”
I lay on the ground wondering what fate had in store for me.
A glimmer of understanding lit up Tony’s face after a minute of puzzling over the new information. “Somewhere off planet.”
“Now you’re catching on.”
“Omega Prime,” Tony guessed.
The Boss slapped Tony across the head. “One step forward, two steps back. It’s always the same with you. No, not Omega Prime. All she’d have to do is escape and hop a transport to get home. No, she goes to the Delta system.”
“Of course,” Tony snapped his fingers. “Delta Prime.”
The Boss slapped him harder. “Fallon you idiot. Fallon, the prison world. No one ever comes back from there. And this way if she dies no one can tie it to us. Everyone will think her a common runaway.”

They had tied my hands and feet before stuffing me in a wooden crate. At first I had panicked, hyperventilating as darkness consumed me and my small prison grew ever smaller, the walls closing in one me. Unashamed, the tears fell as my mind turned to home. Why couldn’t I have just gone to my violin lessons?
Panic gradually subsided, replaced by the aches and pains of remaining in the same position too long. I was lying on my side with no room to straighten my legs. Shifting my weight, I attempted to roll to my back. Halfway there I got stuck and I did everything to keep myself calm before I had another panic attack. Inch by agonizing inch I maneuvered my way onto my back, breathing an audible sigh of relief.
Hours, days, weeks. I couldn’t be sure how much time had passed. My crate was moved a few times and I was sure they transported me in some kind of vehicle. Sleep only came when exhaustion finally overcame fear and discomfort.
The creaking of boards woke me from my dreamless sleep. A shaft of light blinded me as my prison doors were pried open.
“Get her out of there Kal.”
Rough hands reached in and grabbed my arm, trying to wrench me to my feet, but I was too weak and hopeless to comply.
“She ain’t movin’ Boss.”
“Then pick her up and carry her.”
No sooner was the command given then I was lifted up and carried to a fate that would surely kill me.
In the light of predawn I could see the outline of an intersystem transport. Kal followed the Boss as he led us around back. As we neared the shop letters appeared, slowly forming a single word: Destiny.
Boss led us around back to a small trap door where he instructed Kal to open it and take me inside.
“Make sure Miss Johnson gets the best accommodations Destiny has to offer.”
Kal chuckled. “Of course. Nothing but the best for the Governor’s daughter.”
Parading through a maze of hallways and corridors, I soon lost all sense of direction. I was hoping that we might somehow run into a crew member to give me one last chance of escape, but it wasn’t to be.
A large set of iron doors reared up ahead. Kal pushed a few buttons and the doors slid open. Dim lights lined the ceiling and floor revealing dozens of faces, men and women alike, young and old. The eyes of all were cold, dead, reserved to the fate that awaited them. Dark circles around their eyes left them looking like the living dead. They didn’t even try to escape though only a single man stood in their way. If anything they shrunk away from their only possibility of escape.
Kal was none too gentle when he dropped me inside amidst the prisoners. Not a single acknowledgement from the crowded room, I became a part of the lifeless and hopeless entity that held the prisoners in sway. The doors groaned their way closed, my last desperate hopes left behind.
For the longest time I lay still and quiet drinking in the despair that would numb all else. Not until tremors shook the ship did I realize the journey to my uncertain future had begun. A buzzer sounded and the lights flashed red. Unsure of what was happening, I sat up to find everyone moving to the walls. I sat alone near the door as the tremors increased.
A large, black man stepped away from the walls. There was something different about him that made him stand out from the crowd. He wore a tattered shirt beneath a light brown leather coat and dark pants tucked into dirty, worn boots. Holding out a hand, our eyes met for a moment and I realized what was so different about him. His eyes held life. He was not beaten by the hopeless situation. He fought.
“You should hold onto something. Take-off is gonna be rough.”
Reluctantly I took his hand and he helped me to my feet and to the safety of the wall.
“My name’s Ronan.” Though he was only inches away he had to shout to be heard above the drone of the engines.
“Veraline Johnson. Just Vera actually.” My name no longer mattered where we were going.
People crowded closer as the ride became rougher. Ronan led me to the wall, keeping the crowd at a safe distance as the ship ascended. For the next few minutes I studied this man. He looked like a criminal with his disheveled clothes, dreadlocks, and scarred face, but his eyes spoke of a kind, gentle man.
As soon as the tremors ended and we were out of the planet’s atmosphere the group dispersed, leaving Ronan and I as close to alone as was possible in the confined space.
“So what are you in for? I can’t see you being a criminal.”
I wasn’t sure how much I should tell him, if anything. After a few moments I decided it couldn’t hurt if he knew.
“I saw something I wasn’t supposed to. This is my punishment for rebelling against my parents.”
“So why not just kill you? Easier than going through all the trouble of shipping you off to a place you’re likely to die anyway.”
I flinched at his blunt honesty of the situation. He never apologized, only waited for an answer.
“Because I’m a governor’s daughter. They couldn’t have my father snooping around and interfering with their operations. So they decided to make it look like I ran away. Leave no witnesses.” I was still numb as I recalled the events in drug dealer’s alley. Friends dead, family forever lost to me. It hadn’t set in.
“It’s hard to imagine people who could do such a thing to a young girl. Monsters, that’s what they are.”
I was curious and assuming it was alright since he asked first, I decided to learn what I could. “And you? Why are you here?”
A dark cloud shadowed his face, his eyes staring into the distance. “I hunted down the monsters that killed my wife and five year old daughter.” His fists clenched in his lap and I could see the pain his memories stirred. Then it was gone, a mask silently put in place.
So Ronan and I were in the same boat, different than the others on the ship, yet headed for the same fate.
Ronan quickly changed the subject. He explained how everything worked. From the Andromeda system, Ronan had already been on the ship for two months. Meals were served twice daily. A tub full of watery oatmeal for breakfast and rice for supper was wheeled into the room. The strongest got first pick. The weak ate last and sometimes not at all if nothing was left. Even before we reached the planet the weak were already being weeded out.
Explaining the hierarchy on the transport, Ronan taught me who to stay away from, who it was safe to talk to and where in the room I could sleep. I committed everything to memory knowing it was the only way I was going to survive the three month journey to Fallon.

A week into space and I was nearly driven mad with cabin fever. How was it possible to stay in a single room for a whole week let alone three months? To ease the encroaching madness I spent as much time as I could either sleeping or daydreaming until one day Ronan pulled me to my feet, shaking me from my stupor.
“None of that now. You’ll only drive yourself to insanity faster.”
“Then what do you suggest I do, knock on the door and ask politely to be let out to run around the ship?”
Pulling on a dirty strand of my hair, he gave me his “don’t be smart with me” look.
“Have you not been watching the others?”
I laughed bitterly. “What’s to watch? Most just lie around like me.”
“And do you not see what it does to them? They are resigned to death, though they have a chance to live. They grow weaker everyday when they should be fighting to grow stronger and improve their chances.”
“Chances?” I didn’t want hope when I knew there was none. “No one survives Fallon. Why do you think they send people there? I’ll tell you why. Because they want them dead without bloodying their hands. I should know; my father spoke of it often enough.”
I sat back down, regretting only a little the truth I had uttered. What right had I to take his hope away just because mine was gone? But then again wasn’t it better to accept the truth and move on?
An unwanted tear escaped, slowly running down my cheek. I desperately wanted to hope; I didn’t want to die.
Ronan knelt down and wiped the tear away. “You only think that way because you don’t know any better. Let me tell you where I come from.”
He began spinning a tale of danger and mystery.
Ronan had not come from Andromeda Prime as I had assumed. He was from Andromeda Five. My mouth fell open in complete and utter shock. Andromeda Five was a planet known for its extremes, from lifeless deserts to jungles that were home to giant carnivorous beasts.
Ronan was a member of the Raptor tribe named after the regal bird that ruled the skies and canopies of the rain forest. Painting a picture of fierce warriors and superior hunters, Ronan told me of his childhood and teen years. He had held a bow long before he learned to walk. From the beginning he was taught to survive in his deadly home.
Father a hunter, Ronan took on the trade and soon his name was known throughout the local tribes. No man could match his skills.
“Only one beast had the ability to evade my attempts to catch it. The great moor cat was the hunter I strived to emulate. Silent as death itself, slyer than a fox, and more slippery than a snake, he was the ultimate hunter.”
Ronan edged closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I hear they have such cats on Fallon only they are the size of small whales.”
I could feel the blood drain from my face. I had begun to feel a little better, sure survival was a possibility if I stuck with Ronan, bit now I wasn’t so sure. The eager almost hungry look in his eyes chilled me to the bone.
“From what I’ve heard, Fallon is much like my home world, only more dangerous.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re happy about this?”
He smiled, showing off yellowed teeth. “I’ve been locked up in iron rooms for five years. I couldn’t have asked for a better sentence. I’ll finally be able to live again.”
At the time I didn’t understand. How could fighting to stay alive each and every day for the rest of your life be considered living? To me it seemed a fate worse than death.
Ronan stood, holding his hand out. I just looked at it.
“What?”
“You don’t want to die, do you?”
I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.
“No.”
He offered his hand again and I took it. I was pulled to my feet where Ronan started circling.
“First things first, then. We need to build up your strength and endurance.”
“And how exactly do we do that when we barely have room to move around?”
With a devilish smile and a twinkle in his eye, he pointed to the ground.
“What?”
“Push-ups. As many as you can.”
“But --”
“Now.”
Groaning, I did as he asked. Physical Educations was my least favorite subject in school and push-ups had quickly become the bane of my existence.
To my surprise Ronan got down and started doing push-ups right beside me. We got a few odd stares but it didn’t seem to bother Ronan so I paid it no mind.
I collapsed after my fifteenth one while Ronan was on his fiftieth and still going like he had just started.
“Done already?” I groaned in response. “Looks like we have a lot of work ahead of us.”
Once he had finished his eight hundred push-ups we started squats then sit-ups. By the end of the day I could hardly keep my eyes open even to eat the rice Ronan had brought.
Day after day he pushed me to the limits of my strength. Improvement was minimal at best and I found my spirits dwindling a little more each day. Three weeks had passed since we had begun training. Time was passing too quickly. Only two months remained until we would be faced with the test of Fallon.
“Up Vera; it’s time to start.”
Lying face down on the floor, I refused to move.
“What’s the point? I’m not getting any better; in fact I might be getting worse.”
“Alright, we’ll take a break today and start something new instead.”
He nudged me with his foot.
“Come on; this one’s easy, I promise.”
Grudgingly I sat up. At least I wouldn’t be hurting at the end of the day.
“Sit up straight and close your eyes.”
I gave him a questioning glance before closing my eyes.
“Surviving the jungles of Fallon will take more than strength and endurance. When in the wilds you must use all of your senses.”
The swish of cloth preceded the touch of fabric against my closed eyes.
“Wh--”
“From today onwards you will do everything with this blindfold on.”
“Are you insane? What happens if I end up stepping on someone?” I couldn’t believe he expected me to wear the blindfold for two months.
“Learn from your mistakes.”
“I thought you said this would be easy.”
His laughter faded into the distance as he was lost in the crowd.
“Ronan? Ronan this isn’t funny.”
He never came back, not even at supper when he usually brought me food. I had never ventured to the tub of food at meal times because it was so rough. The usual downtrodden, hopeless crowd became a mob, each person fighting for the largest portion of food they could get their hands on. This bellied the impression I had received that they had resigned themselves to death. If they had, why would they fight so hard for food that would sustain them? No matter how many times they told themselves they had accepted their fate, or how much they wanted to, a part of them wouldn’t allow it. A small part kept fighting.
It wasn’t long before survival mode kicked in for me. I had gone a whole day with no food or water and I could feel my body weaken little by little. My body realized I had to risk the mob or I would soon be too weak to fight my way through and I would die a slow, painful death. Part of me wanted to believe Ronan wouldn’t let me starve to death, but a small whisper of doubt crept in. He hadn’t come yet. Maybe he wasn’t the man I thought he was. Shaking as I stood, my legs were unsteady, but still able to support my weight. The familiar creek of the doors announced meal time as the crew members dragged the tub inside. Bodies shifted restlessly as they waited for the doors to close. The click of locks was drowned out in the chaos of rushing bodies of which I was a part.
All elbows and knees, I fought fiercely for my place at the tub. Taking a few hits in the ribs, stomach, and face, I wondered why I didn’t just remove the blindfold. It would be easy to reach up and tear the thing off and give myself better odds, but something stayed my hand. I had something to prove, not to Ronan, but to myself. I had to know there was reason to hope. If I couldn’t do this, how could I even begin to think survival on Fallon was possible?
I struggled on until, miraculously, I felt the hard, cold metal of the tub. Thrusting a hand inside, I grabbed as much rice as I could, using my shirt as a bowl. Two, three handfuls then I was thrust away. Stubbornly I held on to my hard won prize as I was pushed and shoved out of the way. Only, once I reached the outer limits of the crowd, the pushing and shoving became grasping and pulling. Those too weak to reach the tub ganged up on me, trying to get even a small morsel of food. It wasn’t long before my shirt was torn ragged, spilling the rice across the floor.
Tears of anger and frustration threatened to spill over, but biting my lip, I returned to the fray. I knew there was no second chance. The fight progressively grew worse as the remaining food diminished. Instead of grabbing, shoving, and pulling, people threw punches and kicks in an attempt to weaken their opponents. One punch to my gut left black and red spots in my vision, threatening to drag me under the blanket of unconsciousness. I don’t recall the second hit that took me down.



Chapter 2
Deprivation
Thoughts returned first, then hearing and movement. When sight took too long, panic set in. Sitting up and frantically feeling around, I touched my eyes to convince myself they were indeed open. My fingers met cloth and memory returned. The blindfold.
I jumped when a voice startled me out of my black world.
“You kept it on. I must admit I’m more than a little surprised.”
I wanted to rip the blindfold off and throw it to the deepest, darkest corner of the universe, only Ronan’s presence stopped me. I wasn’t about to show him how weak I really was.
“That means we can move on.”
I was ready to burst with anger and frustration when he pressed something into my hands.
“Eat first. You can’t train when you can hardly stay on your feet.”
I was grateful Ronan couldn’t see the tears of relief and shame beneath the blindfold. How could I have thought Ronan to be so cruel and uncaring that he would let me starve?
After a solid meal and a few hours rest, Ronan put me to work once again. He led me in the same workout routine I had struggled through the past three weeks. Still weak from my expedition with the blindfold, I did fewer sets than I could normally manage, which only worsened my already sour mood.
“I told you I was getting worse.” I played it off as a joke.
“And I say you’re doing very well. Do you realize you just did more sets than when we first started and you have gone two days without food and have been beaten to a pulp?”
I sat for a minute turning this over in my head. He was right. How did I not see it? I was so focused on my own misery that I had fooled myself into believing it was hopeless. I compared myself to him when I should have watched my own progress. It was impossible for me to reach his level in a few short weeks when he had been doing this his entire life. With a new found determination I threw myself into every exercise Ronan laid at my feet.
“Today we start something new.” I flinched a little, the memory of what had happened last time he had introduced something new, but did as he asked. He had me sit on the ground. So far, nothing extreme. I heard his near silent footsteps circle, footsteps I swore I had never been able to hear before. He must be off his guard today, I concluded.
“You’ve been without your sight for two days. Your other senses have already begun to compensate. I’m sure you have started hearing things you couldn’t hear before.”
I thought back and realized he was right. All day I had fought annoyance when it seemed everyone was breathing right in my ear. The whining and mumbling in the room had amplified. Now, instead of annoyance, I felt a giddy happiness that I was improving.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Vera.” Even with the blindfold on he could tell what I was thinking. “We still have a long way to go.”
I shifted perspective, remembering the little I had learned wasn’t remotely close to what I needed to know to survive on Fallon.
“Slow your breathing.” I followed his instruction. “Tell me what you hear.”
I started with the loudest and most obvious. “There are two women arguing over a sleeping area. Someone’s tapping his foot and a man is humming to himself.”
“Now I want you to move past those and go deeper.”
I took a deep breath and tried to do as he said. “There’s someone in the corner snoring and someone’s pacing.”
“Deeper.”
The harder I tried to listen the more difficult it became to tune everything else out. Those noises only became louder and more pronounced.
A slight touch on my shoulder startled me out of my trance.
“Another thing you must learn is to always be aware of everything around you. You must not forget what is close when you are searching for something that is more distant.”
He taught me no more than that; asked no more, but every day I practiced. While he drilled me in both new and familiar exercises I listened and as I listened I discovered a different world. Instead of grays and browns there were shuffles and swishing. Instead of squares and circles there were creeks and whisperings. The world was taking on an interesting form, altogether new and unfamiliar.
Hesitantly at first, I began to explore this new world and its mysteries. Who would have thought a square metal room filled with listless criminals had mystery? I began by taking a few careful steps away from my sleeping area, listening intently to make sure I wouldn’t accidentally stop on some unsuspecting person.
Each day I ventured a few stops further out as confidence slowly returned, until one day I hit the wall. Beaming with pride, I forgot to be careful on the return trip. My foot caught on something, probably a person’s leg or arm, and I ended up sprawled across two or three very surprised, very angry prisoners.
Cursing as they pushed and shoved me off, they started a chain reaction when I stumbled into more prisoners, causing even more cursing and shoving. Mere seconds passed before the entire room was in an uproar. It was worse than meal time as punches were thrown, the sound of fist connecting with face and gut reverberating around the confines of the room. I ducked after being hit twice in the face and once in the stomach, but that was worse as feet connected with my arms, shoulders, and chest.
I couldn’t be sure with adrenaline masking the pain, but I was almost certain my face was a canvas of black and blue with a few strokes of crimson red added to the mix. The taste of copper confirmed my suspicions when I licked my lip, which had been split sometime in the struggle.
Still amidst the fray, I was flailing as much as any other person, trying to make my way to the wall. Backing up while trying to protect my face, I ran into something solid and unmoving that wasn’t the wall. Two trunk like arms wound around my waist, leaving my heart in my throat. Reflex kicked in and I threw my head back, only to connect with a large, barrel chest. I was trying everything to escape his grasp to no avail.
“Stop struggling you stupid child.” Ronan’s voice sent a wave of relief through my entire body. Relaxing, I allowed him to guide me to the wall. “Keep quiet and stay behind me.”
I wasn’t about to go anywhere. I was willing to wait it out right where we were, but Ronan had other plans. I had hold of his shirt from behind, determined not to get separated. When he took a step forward, I thought he was fighting someone off, but when he took another I was ready to throw my blindfold off and return to the relative safety of the wall.
Weighing the options, I decided it would be best to stick with Ronan. Five steps from the wall and I hadn’t felt a single blow. The noise of chaos was beginning to die down. I could just imagine Ronan staring down the prisoners and restoring order.
A few moments passed before the last sounds of the fight fell silent. Ronan’s hands pried mine from his shirt.
“Step back Vera.”
There was an intensity to his voice that countered the thought that peace had returned. With no other choice, I stepped back.
“Take your own advice, jungle scum.”
The voice was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t put a face to it.
Ronan made no response.
“Do not challenge me. You will die.”
Still no response.
In a flash I recalled the man’s face. He was tall and built like a freighter. Ronan had pointed him out to me as the top dog, warning me to keep my distance.
What reason could Ronan have for challenging him? From what I had observed Ronan preferred to remain in the background. Why not just back down?
“Is she really worth your life?”
In horror I realized he was talking about me.
“The brat needs to learn her place.”
He must have been one of the men I tripped over. It was the only plausible explanation for the situation.
“A Raptor defends his tribe to the end.” He gave no other reply.
Deafening silence held the crowd in its sway. I strained to hear any sound from the two facing off. Only the rasp of labored breathing met my ears. I knew it couldn’t be Ronan; he would never allow himself to show even the slightest amount of weakness. It had to be the other man, Lorin I think his name was. The tension was palpable as seconds passed. Only the sound of a sharp intake of breath announced the attack. The pounding of two solid bodies colliding sent a shock wave through the room. Amidst the grunts, groans, and cursing, I was unable to figure out what was happening or who was winning. Minutes seemed like hours as breathing became harsh and, the sounds of the fight becoming fewer and less frequent.
When only silence filled the air, I pushed my way past the crowd that had gathered in front of me. A little twinge of fear crept in, twisting knots in my stomach.
“Ronan?”
There was only one man left standing. The body I nearly stepped on was evidence of that. Footsteps moved loser as the last man standing approached.
“Ronan?” I could hear the panic creeping into my voice.
The strong hand that gripped my shoulder had me ready to fight.
“Time to train.”
Ronan’s arm wrapped around my shoulders protectively and I sagged against him in relief.
“You bit off more than you could chew. Never lose focus like that again. Next time it may very well kill you.”
“I don’t think you need to worry about that. I’ll just stay away from that side of the room.”
“You’re going back there tomorrow, Vera. You just won’t make the same mistake twice.”
My jaw dropped and I had to remind myself to close it before I caught a fly.
“I thought you said--”
“I said no to bite off more than you can chew. You thought because you had made it across safely you make it back safely. You lost concentration which is where you went wrong. Keep your concentration and you’ll be fine.”
I never knew what to expect when Ronan pulled out another one of his lessons.
“Today we start a new conditioning exercise. It will not only strengthen your muscle but your senses.”
Curious, I followed his instructions as he guided me through a series of movements.
“Do you remember everything?”
I nodded, sure I would be able to repeat every move in the correct order.
“Good. Now block me.”
Ronan’s hand slammed into my gut before I had a chance to raise my arms, knocking the wind out me and leaving me planted on my backside.
“You weren’t ready.”
I was sure my face was crimson with anger.
“You didn’t give me a chance.”
Grabbing my arm, Ronan hauled me to my feet.
“No enemy would give you a chance, so why should I? Again. This time use all your senses, not just the movements I taught you.”
Without warning his fist flew forward, but this time I heard his feet move as his weight shifted. Throwing my left arm down, I blocked the blow. Just in time I remembered the second movement. Bringing my right arm up, I blocked his second blow. With the force he was putting behind those punches I was sure I would have ended up out cold on the ground with a black eye for my trouble.
I wondered how I ended up in that exact position. A lump was forming where my head met the hard, iron floor.
“You lost concentration again. A man’s not going to stop with one or two blows. Again.”
Once more I blocked his two beginning blows and managed to leap over his attempt to sweep my legs out from under me. I got through five more motions before landing on the floor yet again.
“Up.”
He moved and I countered with the first block, only this time it didn’t black. The blow had been to my face, not the gut as it had every time before.
The floor was fast becoming a little too familiar for my taste. I reached up and wiped away, what I assumed was blood, from my nose.
“You--”
“I know, I know!” Ronan stood silent as I interjected. “I should have anticipated. Fighting isn’t like dancing; the steps are different every time.”
“You’re learning.” There was a smile in his voice.
“Again,” I insisted, picking myself back up. If this was going to help, I wanted to learn it as quickly as I could. I was waiting for a blow that wasn’t coming.
“We’re done for today. Take a break and rest up.”
“Rest? So when I don’t want to keep going, you make me and when I want to, you tell me to rest?”
“I figured you’d been beaten up enough for one day. Everyone has a limit, even me.”
Ronan walked away, leaving me standing alone.
If he didn’t want to train, fine. I’d do it on my own. I went through my listening exercised, strength and endurance training and went over the new movements until I was convinced they were perfect.
When the food tub was brought in I didn’t stop. I didn’t stop when everyone else bedded down for the night.
Halfway through my third set of exercises Ronan showed up with a large ball of rice he offered to me.
“Vera, you have to stop.”
“I can’t. I’ll never be ready for Fallon if I don’t train.” I think the fight and the new training today had reminded me how close we were to the end of our journey.
“And you’ll be dead before we ever get there if you keep this up. Even the strongest warrior must have rest. You will accomplish more if you are fresh in the morning.”
I was still skeptical. “Promise?”
“Vera, to be honest I don’t know if you’ll ever be ready for Fallen.” My heart sunk like a rock. Why should I train if it was all useless? “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for Fallon. But I promise we’ll do everything we can to prepare. We won’t be completely helpless.”
Unsure what to think or believe, I ate the rice and finally allowed my body the rest it had been demanding all day.

By the end of the week I could counter most of Ronan’s attempts to throw me off in our sparring sessions. With only a month left I was becoming a little more confident.
Ronan had intensified the sparring, upping the stakes. Battered and bruised, but happy, I sat on the floor catching my breath.
“You know it’s my birthday today. I’m fifteen.” It was both a happy and sad thought. If I were home a huge party would be planned with presents, cake, family, and friends.
“Well it just so happens, I have a gift for you.”
Disbelieving, I cocked an eyebrow and held out my hand. Ronan dropped two small objects onto my palm. I discovered them to be two small balls of pliable rubber.
“What are these supposed to be?”
“Ear plugs.”
“Ear plugs? I don’t have that much of a problem sleeping through your snoring.”
“It’s part of your training.” He was exasperated with me, I could tell. “We’ve taken away sight, now it’s time to take away sound. You’ve acclimated well to life without sight so it’s time to move to the next level. Developing your sense of touch, smell, and taste is what will set you apart as a great warrior compared to a good one. If you can get to only two of your weaker senses you will be exceptional, one and you will be undefeatable.”
“You expect me to get around without my eyes and ears? How can I train if I don’t know what you want me to do?”
“We’ll find a way to communicate. You’d be surprised how well the human body can adapt when it has to. Just look at what you’ve accomplished so far.”
Ronan took the ear plugs from my hand. “Once I put them in, tell me if you can hear anything.” He positioned the rubber into my ears, stifling the sounds of the room until they were nonexistent.
“I can’t hear anything.”
I waited for some kind of acknowledgement, but none came.
“Ronan?”
Nothing.
“You have got to be kidding me! What are you gonna do, make me come and find you?”
Humiliated, I stretched out my arms, trying to feel for him. I didn’t dare pick up my feet to walk for fear of starting another fight when I inevitably stepped on someone. Instead I dragged them along the floor until I found a wall, after bumping into more than a few people who I could imagine were more than a little frustrated with me and my antics by now. I could only hope they had grown somewhat tolerant of it.
I lay against the wall, grumbling to myself about Ronan and his “training”.
For the second time on this trip, I skipped dinner, going straight to bed. When I woke up a while later I wasn’t sure how long I had slept or what time it was, but I felt rested so I decided to do some exercises.
Before long I was left with nothing to do as I waited and mentally prepared to face the breakfast mob. I couldn’t let myself get too weak before I made a try for food. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.
I was dozing off when I felt a slight vibration through the floor. Footsteps from outside the room, behind me. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I did. I must have accidentally ended up by the doors. More vibrations followed, but they came from inside. Everyone was waking up, getting ready for the doors to open.
I backed away from the door as I felt it start to edge open. I bumped into someone and knew I was a safe distance from the crew members bringing the food. They would get nervous if the criminals were too close and wouldn’t hesitate to use their weapons. A few had learned the hard way to keep their distance until the doors were closed tight.
At the front of the pack when the doors closed I was thrust forward with a force I wasn’t expecting. The momentum from a particularly violent shove threw me up against the food tub, and to my horror, up an over the side Mushy oatmeal coated my back and arms. In shock, it took hands dragging me out of the tub for me to remember I needed food. I managed to close my fists around two handfuls of oatmeal before I was thrown out of the was then pushed to the back of the crowd.
I expected the weaker people to attack me as they had the first time and they did, but they only peeled my oatmeal covered jacket off, leaving me with my small meal still clenched in my hands.
I must have been a sight with my hair and arms still coated in oatmeal. Wolfing down the few pitiful mouthfuls, I started cleaning out my hair. More than one person decided to help, eager for any extra food they could get their hands on, some more gentle than others.
I lay down to rest when I got that eerie feeling I was being watched. Shrugging it off, I readjusted and tried to sleep. I jolted from my dozing when something nudged my leg. I sat up only to have my arm grabbed by a very large, masculine hand. I tensed and the hand loosened its hold.
“Ronan, is that you?”
The hand moved from my arm to my hand. While holding my hand palm up, he began tracing something with his finger.
Y.E.S.
I sighed. Of course is was him. No one else in this place ever interacted with me.
“What do you want?” I was still a little frustrated with him, even though I knew this was for my own good.
G.O.O.D.J.O.B.
Then nothing. I lay back down, smiling. It felt good to know I had made him proud. Ronan came back and woke me from my nap with the smell of rice. After I ate he took my hand and wrote on it as he had before.
T.R.A.I.N.I.N.G.
T.R.Y.T.O.B.L.O.C.K.M.E.
Planting my feet, I tried to feel for his movements. Nothing. Hello floor, it hasn’t been long enough.
Ronan was too quiet and I suspected he was being devious and purposefully concealing his movements more than normal. Then I remembered I’d never been able to feel his approach. Maybe he was always this soft on his feet and this training was useless.
Ronan took my hand again.
Y.O.U.F.E.E.L.F.L.O.O.R.?
“I can feel vibrations through the floor when people move. Except you, of course,” I added, annoyed.
F.E.E.L.A.I.R.
“I don’t get it.” He wasn’t making any sense and the rudimentary communication didn’t help.
I.M.O.V.E.A.I.R.M.O.V.E.S.
We tried again and again and again, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t feel anything.
P.R.A.C.T.I.C.E.
Practice? He couldn’t be serious. How was I supposed to practice feeling air? It sounded like a load of hogwash to me.
Since I couldn’t feel his movements, I assumed he had left me to my own devices. Just about ready to tear my hair out, I decided it was wise to do a few meditation techniques Ronan had taught me. It was a lot easier to tune out sound because there was none, but I found a new nemesis: myself. My mind was going a million miles an hour and wasn’t slowing down anytime soon. The longer I sat the harder it became.
Finally giving up, I decided it was time for bed. It didn’t take long for peace to envelope my mind as I began to drift off. Then it hit me like a Jovian Prime Jack. I sat up, sure I had the answer. If I could clear my mind as I did when I slept, I might be able to get past the barrier.
I went through my nightly ritual in my head. First I pictured my room at home, instead of the hard metal room in which I now resided. I could almost feel the soft comforting folds of my down comforter surrounding me as I floated into sweet oblivion. In that moment every thought fled, striking awareness in its place. I felt everything. My heart beat strongly in my chest, my lungs expanded with each life giving breath. A few feet away a man slept soundly, I could almost see his heart beating a slow, steady rhythm as air moved in and out of his lungs.
“Ronan!” I felt a few people stir restlessly in agitation as my voice disturbed them.
“Ronan!”
It was only seconds before I felt him coming.
W.H.A.T.?
“I think I have it.” I got to my feet and faced him. “Quick, punch me before it’s gone.”
He didn’t move.
“Come on Ronan. I need to see if this works.”
He struck and I felt it. I dodged his first blow, blocked his second and third, and threw in a blow of my own that he blocked. He stopped me with a hand on my arm.
W.E.L.L.D.O.N.E.T.R.Y.A.G.A.I.N.T.O.M.O.R.R.O.W.
“What happens if it won’t come back tomorrow?” I was unsure I could replicate it so easily again, if at all.
I.T.W.I.L.L.
The next morning I didn’t even want to eat breakfast; I wanted to get straight to training, but Ronan sat me down and wouldn’t allow me to get up until I ate.
When the time came, just as I feared, it wasn’t returning. Taking a deep breath, I attempted to push the thoughts away. Remembering my steps, it came back to me in a rush just as it had last night.
After sparing for an hour, Ronan instructed me, in not so many words, to work my way around the room. Astonishing us both, I effortlessly meandered my way through the crowd to the apposite wall and back again.
It wasn’t long before I was moving about freely as if I had my sight again. Ronan must have taken this as a sign to intensify training. He started teaching me how to attack instead of just defensive strategies.
I couldn’t believe how quickly I took to it, like a bird to flying. It felt natural and effortless.