Slater J. Tross, O.L.C

July 31st, 2030, 11:14 am                                                   

I'm not sure that the rest of the Imperial Guard was pleased with Colonel MacTavish's decision to keep me alive. Being led out of the headquarters by Manchester was really awkward since everyone was giving me dirty looks as I passed by them. One psycho grabbed the collar of my shirt and attempted to pull me down to beat me up. The Captain at my side shoved him to the wall and the other guards around seized the attacker. I was kinda hoping he would've beat me up. I don't want to join the Imperial Guard, but I have to.

I look out the window of Manchester's car at all the buildings we pass. The only real restriction the Guard has on me is handcuffs, and they're tight around my wrists. How am I supposed to do any of this "training" without my hands? Who do they think I am?

It's really different, seeing the streets so calm and so close. These past few months I've avoided the public and popular sidewalks like this one. If I showed up during the day time, people would run away in fear. They'd call the Imperial Guard on me, but I'd be gone by the time they reach me. Either way, I just know that I'm safe inside the car.

Manchester seems like he's rushing to get me to his house. He hasn't spoken to me since we left the Imperial Guard headquarters. Is he angry at me or something? Should I ask?

"How much farther?" I ask, sitting up in my seat. I don't know where he lives, although I'm sure I have been there in the past.

He glances over to me quickly. "Not until we're out of the city. Give it about forty-five minutes. We'll be there soon."

The car stops at an intersection, and there is a congregation of people on the corner who are waiting to cross the street. Some of them are looking my way, but I don't know if they see me or not. I slump down into my seat as they begin to scurry along the crosswalk. I don't know how long I have to be down so that no one sees me.

"What would they do if they saw you, Slater? Rush the car and try to break down the windows? You're fine, trust me. They couldn't hurt you if they tried." Manchester pulls me up from my armpit and focuses back on the road. All the pedestrians have made it to the other side. The traffic light turns green, and the car proceeds.

"What did you say to Colonel MacTavish when you talked to him? Did he support his decision or not?"

"I told him that his idea was ridiculous and that he still had a chance to revoke his choice. Apparently the other four Colonels are pissed off at him now. He still supports his choice wholeheartedly, too." Manchester sighs. "He's an idiot. He's the youngest of the bunch and he thinks he can make the important executive decisions without consequences. I don't think James gets it yet."

"I mean, the OLC is saving my life, but I'm not sure that I really like it yet. My mom and I have been pretty anti-Imperial Guard for the past ten years, so I don't know what she'll think of me being forced to be one of them."

As the car continues forward down a straight road, he looks over at me. "Look, I respect the fact that you care about your mother and all, but you need to realize who you are right now. You're a criminal, and you're seventeen years old. Your life doesn't have to revolve around what your mother tells you. You're your own man now. You can make your own decisions now." The car slows at an intersection again, behind two motorcycles.

"You don't like my mom much, do you?" I ask, observing the skyscrapers on both sides of us. We must be in Woodrow; the center-city district.

"I'm fine with your mother when she isn't throwing things at me and telling me to get out of your house. She's the one who doesn't like me at all."

I'm starting to wonder if what Manchester told me earlier, about how she's lied to me about what he did to make her hate him, is really true. It's strange, because a part of me is telling me that he seemed hurt about how she treated him when he talked to her this morning. But this is Manchester, the liar, the one my mom always told me to forget about. Why am I believing him?

"Back in the interrogation room, you said that my mom has lied to me more than once. What is that supposed to mean?" I peer down at the weird scar on my forearm. It's still there, and it's still a mystery to me.

Manchester grins. "Well, aren't you the kid with a thousand questions? She's been lying to you for the past decade, about me, about your father, about the Imperial Guard-"

"My dad?" I spring forward, turning to him swiftly. "Are you saying-"

"I didn't say anything." He finishes, keeping his eyes on the road. "We're done talking."

The scenery around me undergoes a drastic change after several turns. In the end, we're still heading south, out of the city, but the skyscrapers shift into smaller, run-down buildings. There are less people walking around on the sidewalks. We have to be going through Frayton right now; the poor district of the city. I don't envy anyone that lives in Frayton, honestly.

What is so wrong with talking about my dad, anyway? Manchester is being short about mentioning him, and ended the conversation when he was brought up. Hey, maybe he can't stand the guilt of not looking for him when he's still missing out there.

I still have forty minutes until we're supposed to arrive at Manchester's house outside of the city. Maybe if I close my eyes, it'll go by quicker. I need the rest anyway; who knows what this training could bring.

"Hey, wake up. We're here."

A hand on my left shoulder shakes me awake. I actually did fall asleep, I guess. My wrists are really chafing from the handcuffs. Hopefully the protocol is that they take them off when they realize that I won't do anything to harm anyone, which has been since I woke up earlier this morning.

The car door beside me opens up, and I shuffle my attached hands to unbuckle the seatbelt. I slide out of the car, not expecting the drop, and fall flat on my face on the tan, dusty ground. Manchester laughs maliciously above me.

"Come on, Slater, get up. We've got things to go over before we start anything, all right?" I press my body off the ground with my knuckles as the Captain starts walking away.

The summer sun beats down onto me as I finally stand up and dust off my pants with my cuffed hands. Skies above are dotted lightly with snow white clouds. The warm wind slams against my ear and flutters my t-shirt. I close the car door and follow Manchester to his house.

The Manchester household is really out in the middle of nowhere. To the right of the two-story home is a deep maze of trees behind a much smaller building. I'm going to guess that's a shed or a garage. Behind the house is a wide, endless field of high grass. That can't be part of his property, can it?

The Captain holds the front door open for me, and the both of us enter the house. "Those handcuffs hurting yet? Just another Imperial Guard protocol. Hope it's understandable, you being the most hated kid in the Empire and all."

"What, do they think I'm gonna run away? Where would I go? We're in the middle of nowhere." I grumble, observing the foyer. A short hallway leads to a kitchen table, and stairs that lead upward. There are two openings to other rooms to my left and right.

I hear footsteps coming from the hallway ahead that are uneven with Manchester's. When we reach the kitchen, the Captain looks to his right, into the room next to him.

"It's all right, Celeste. He's not going to hurt you." He assures to someone in the neighboring room. I wedge my way around the Captain to see who he's talking to.

In the middle of a small family room, a girl rises to her feet, staring at me nervously. Her tied-back hair closely matches the tint of her dark t-shirt. The sun has kissed her skin, but some of the color in her face has been flushed out, probably upon seeing me. She might be my age, but I won't assume anything.

Manchester steps over into the kitchen, leaving me to look back at the girl. "Why don't you introduce yourself to our guest here?"

The girl inches toward me, eyeing my unusable hands. I, too, move forward and watch her face remain still. "I'm Celestine," she says under her breath, gazing back at the Captain in the kitchen.

I smile, attempting to hold out my right hand. "I'm Slater. It's nice to meet you." She grabs my hand and shakes it briefly.

I swivel around to the Captain, who has his hands pressed against the wooden kitchen counter. He's staring at his feet, and not peeking up at all. His fingers are rhythmically tapping on the counter. I wonder what he's thinking about.

"Dad," Celestine pipes up, "I'm going over to Lance's house soon. Felicia is picking me up."

"All right then, have fun. Don't-"

"-do something I'll regret later. I know, trust me. No worries." Celestine's voice gets quieter until I hear the front door open and close. I guess I should've assumed that Celestine was his daughter.

"Here," Captain pulls a thin, metallic object out of the pocket of his pants. "Cuffs," He gestures for me to lift them over the counter in front of him. As he jams one end of the object into the keyhole of the handcuffs, he twists it, and yanks it out. My wrists can breathe again, but they still hurt like hell.

"We only have about two weeks together, Slater, so what I'm about to tell you is really important." Captain says as I rub my free wrists. "I need you to listen that everything that I tell you as I'm preparing you for the Imperial Guard. I wouldn't tell you or tell you to do anything that I wouldn't deem vital to your success. You can't do-"

"How old is she? Celestine, I mean." As soon as I ask that, I realize that I fucked up bad.

His palms dig into the counter and I can see the blazes in his eyes. "I hope you not listening to me won't be a lasting problem. Something tells me that you don't understand the situation that you're in right now, kid. Someone at the Imperial Guard is going through a lot of trouble to keep you breathing, and I'm sure that everyone is going to be setting high expectations for you. I need you to focus, please. That's all I ask from you."

I nod. Why am I such an idiot? Why did I ask that?

"On the twelfth, you'll be pitched against hundreds of other kids that signed up to join the immediate duty squad. Only those ranked in the top ten in this group will be recognized and will start within days of the ceremony. Your goal isn't to make it into that group, necessarily. All you have to do is make it into the immediate duty group."

Captain turns his back to me and makes his way to the window over by the sink. He cranks the handle as the glass separates outward from the sill. "You will be tested on three different areas; your physical strength, mental sharpness, and your ability to excel in difficult situations. These tests are not as easy as you'd think, since it is a competition amongst all of you."

"The only thing that I can assist with here is your physical fitness." He twists the faucet on the sink and sticks his hands under the water. "Running, shooting, the whole ordeal. This is where I need the utmost cooperation from you. The test in front of the officers is the same every year, so I'm sure on what I need to train you on specifically."

I really hope this physical shit isn't too much. I'm a good runner, since I used to play baseball and I was a criminal constantly trying to avoid authority. The only problem is that I've never even touched a gun in my life. Well, except last night when I grabbed that guard's pistol. I've never used a gun to kill anyone though. What else does he mean by "the whole ordeal?" Hopefully not a whole heck of a lot.

"So, when do we start? Tomorrow?" I question, gazing outside to the backyard. As of right now, I really don't feel like doing anything.

"No," the Captain maneuvers his way around the counter after shutting off the sink. "We need to utilize every minute that we're together. Every moment is vital." He pats my shoulder and goes by me, out the screen door behind the kitchen table. "We're going outside, let's go."

I follow Captain out the door onto a small patio with a couple lounge chairs. We walk off of the patio and into the high grass field. I'm wearing long pants, thankfully, so the grass doesn't tickle my legs or no bugs latch onto my skin. It is high enough that it touches my fingertips, though.

"This isn't all your property, is it?" I inquire, itching my hands. "And isn't this field full of ticks and shit?"

"No, and yes. This is just a field, it doesn't belong to anyone. As long as you're wearing long pants and you don't fall or anything, you don't have to worry about any insects."

He stops and turns to me, and I mimic him. "Your agility and endurance are probably the attributes that are sought out most by the officers that rank you. You need to be able to run for an extended period of time, and do it quickly. You will never know when you will need this ability most." The Captain points out to the sea of green. "Today, I just want to see what you're capable of. There is an old lighthouse about a mile away from here. You run to there and back. I'll know if you don't touch the lighthouse or don't reach it. I'm going to give you about twelve minutes to make it back to me."

Oh God, I don't want to run. I don't care how important it is. If I can run anyway, what's the point of doing this? This is two miles, for crying out loud, and in twelve minutes. That means I have to make it to the lighthouse in six minutes. Why didn't the Imperial Guard just kill me?

"You can start whenever you want. I already started the clock," He says, looking down at his watch. Dickhead.

I spring forward and begin to jog at a fast pace. So, I only have twelve minutes to run two miles? The best mile I've ever completed was probably five minutes and forty-five seconds. If I keep a good speed throughout, this shouldn't be too bad. I just need to keep myself focused on getting to that lighthouse.

The sun today is absolutely ruthless, and the clouds seem to have disappeared from the sky. My pants are starting to glue to my legs, and I've only been running for about a minute. I guess the point of all this is that when your life's in danger, and you need to escape, you aren't going to care about the heat or how tired you are.

Another minute passes, and I notice a tall building in the distance. It's definitely the lighthouse, with its thin structure and the glass pinnacle. Below the lighthouse is a small cabin with a puff of smoke erupting from the chimney at the top. All I have to do is touch the lighthouse and come back to Manchester's house.

I don't know what it is, but there is a part of me that is telling myself that I should trust Manchester with all this. I hope he knows what he's talking about when he's trying to help me. My mom would say that he's trying his hardest to harm me, but I don't know if that's true anymore. What if what he said about my mom is actually the truth? Maybe I can talk to Manchester after I'm done running this.

I spread my fingers across the cylindrical wall of the lighthouse and inhale sharply. I don't know how much time I have left to get back to the house, but I'm feeling pretty confident that mile wasn't too bad. I guess I could take a second to get a breather and prepare for another one.

That is the exact moment that I notice that my hands on the lighthouse start to fade into the air. What the hell is happening? I watch as my torso disappears along with my legs. This is what happened last night, it has to be. But why? This kind of shit doesn't affect anyone, so why am I disappearing?

I'm wasting too much time thinking about all this! I need to run back to the Captain. But what if he can't see me? Would he be able to hear me if I'm invisible? I don't know what is happening to me. I want answers, now.

It doesn't take me long to make it to where Manchester stands, staring down at his watch. He changed out of his white button-down shirt and black slacks into a loose-fitting red t-shirt and worn jeans. Does he know that I'm running toward him? From the lighthouse to here, I sprinted out of fear of being seen as invisible any longer.

When I reach him, I bend over and try to catch my breath. That last mile killed me, but I'm sure I got a pretty damn good time.

"Thirteen thirty," The Captain announces to me. "At least I can tell that you touched the lighthouse. Not sure what I expected, though."

I pull my body upward and face him. "You can see me?"

He raises an eyebrow and adjusts his watch. "Of course I can. I'm not sure why I wouldn't be able to." He turns back to the path that I just ran. "Get ready, you're about to run it again."

All of the hair on my neck stand up and my fingers twitch. "What? Are you kidding? I just got done running that one." I bend back down and breathe in heavily. This is the "training" the Imperial Guard has for me? What the hell is this, cross country? I used to play baseball; I didn't run for sport. There is no way in hell I am going for another two miles. I can already feel the sweat pool on my collar and my shirt is sticking to my body.

"I'm not kidding, Slater. You aren't going to be done until you run two miles in under twelve minutes."

If only that invisibility cloak, or whatever that was, came back for a couple seconds, than I could get away from here. I need to be persistent if I want to get out of this. "I'm not running that, sorry. I'm going back." I stand up straight and start walking to the house.

I don't get very far before I feel a forceful tug on the back of my shirt, pressing the front against my neck. With a pull of my shoulder, I spin around to be met with the blazing face of the Captain. His teeth are gritted against each other, and I can see hell through his eyes. I think I just pissed off the wrong guy.

"I am not looking forward to dealing with this shitty attitude of your's. Grow the fuck up, Slater, because this better not be how these next weeks will shape out. This is your last opportunity to save your life, and by already disregarding my instructions, you are acting like you don't care."
I shake my head. "It's not that I don't care. I just don't want to run another two miles."

The infernos in his eyes seem to die down as he jabs a finger at my chest. "I don't care what you don't want to do. We all don't want to do things, but we do them anyway. You don't understand how important your endurance and agility is until you need it. Trust me, you'll get this accomplished before the end of the day."

"If you don't let me get a break, it will hurt my endurance, and eventually, bring pain to my muscles, which obviously isn't good. Are you sure I have to run it now?" I ask with a snap.  That isn't even true, really. Wow, I am really making myself hateable right now.

The Captain sighs and walks past me, back to the house. "Forget it. Take the rest of the day off, for all I care. If you don't care enough about what I'm trying to tell you, I won't bother helping you." Victory.

"I have to head back to the base," he adds. "I was hoping to work with you all day, but I guess not. I have a meeting tonight as well, so I'll probably be home tomorrow morning. Don't leave, because I'll know."

He swivels back to me, and takes a few steps my way. "Just a few house rules for you. One, don't leave without telling me where you're going. Two, don't talk to Celestine, and three," The Captain points to the forest to the left of his house, "do not go into the woods. I'm only going to warn you once."

If you ask me, leaving your house to a teenaged criminal is pretty stupid. But hey, I guess that means he trusts me.