Page 105 of Massacre Monday

“You’re right. And I don’t particularly care to.” She sneers as she snaps forward. “Take my advice and drop this class. In fact, you should probably just drop all your classes.”

“Is that a threat?” My pulse pounds in my arteries, preparing for a fight.

Her mauve lips form a solid line. She’s quiet for at least a full minute before she speaks again. “No.Youare the one, Miss Freidenberg, who is failing. I’d be very careful about continuing if you wish to pass Criminology.”

“But I need it for my major.”

“That’s a shame.”

I stand up before I unleash on her, my fury a force rising from my gut until it’s ready to erupt. “Did you fail me on purpose? Because you don’t like me?”

“Are you accusing your professor of misconduct?”

“Yes.”

She crosses her arms with finality. “No. And I have your scores to prove it.”

Balling up my fists, I struggling to prevent myself from hitting her. My nostrils flare as I take a deep inhale through my nose, then spin on my heel and head out the door, ready to run to the registrar to drop the class. But I can’t yet.

Not until I find Ryan.

thirty-four

Blood poundsthroughout my skull so viciously, it’s difficult to hear. Or see.

No, that’s because there’s something over my head. All I can make out is a black fabric covering my eyes and a hint of light from a few feet away.

With my arms tied behind my back, my shoulders burn and spasm. I think one is dislocated. My leg is undoubtably fucked up. It’s shockingly painful, aching and pulsing all the way to my toes.

“M-m tye frasten lawaken,” someone near me says. The voice is muffled, hard to understand. Another answers the first with similar garbled speech. Have I been abducted by aliens?

What if my head is so fucked up that I can’t understand words anymore?

A sudden slap hits my already bruised face. My neck whips to the side with the force of the blow. Cuts deepen inside of my mouth, and I spit out some iron-tasting fluid, which barely seeps through the hood covering me. Somehow, I managed to keep all my teeth.

“Not tough now, are you?” the first one asks, clearly in a robotic tone.

I can barely understand it and certainly don’t recognize the voice, but there are two distinct ones in the room with me. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I focus on other sounds to make out where I am. Every thought fades and returns as I lose consciousness over and over. But as I ground myself to whatever is holding me up, I maintain some grasp on reality.

Wood beneath my fingers. Definitely a basic chair. With a shift of my hips, it scoots on the floor easily, a loud scrape sounding, as if on concrete. Tiny drops of water tinkle far away, but there’s a gushing sound over my head. Constant rushing. No, not water…

A roadway.

I keep my mouth shut until one slaps me again and asks, “Who gave you the order?”

Quick blinks help clear my eyes of tears as I try tothink…Fuck, is this someone from the society? Someone sent to end me for killing the senator? I acted alone, but I was hoping no one would notice. Besides, I got President Harvey what he asked for, the extra evidence of his preferences. Though his wife was my true order. How could they guess I poisoned the senator on my own, though? I covered my tracks well enough.

It’s safest to feign ignorance. Keep my confessions even if I die. “What order?”

“You know which order.”

A small chuckle scratches my throat as I shrug my intact shoulder. “I follow all my orders. They come from the Board.”

“Not this one.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. “If you have an issue with my orders, take it up with them, not me. I’m just a pawn here.”

“A pawn…”