Lieutenant Dafferny was taking them on a tour of the hangar complex, yet she had to be the worst tour guide Clarkston had ever experienced. She spoke in short sentences, stating only the title of places as they moved past, and rarely ever the actual meaning or logistics behind the area.

He wanted to go home. He didn't really know what time it was at this place, or how far across the country he had been moved, only that had he actually gotten home, he would have been helping his mother pack up her preserves for the weekend market, just like he had promised. He would have been going over homework with his little sister Emily, or fooling around with the dogs.

In all honesty though, Clarkston would have been avoiding his father. He had been getting at him about taking over the farm, especially since his older brother had already left town to become a lawyer, seemingly forgetting all about them. But no matter how his father pushed the matter, Clarkston just couldn't do it. He couldn't stay in that small town and sacrifice the rest of his life to a dream that wasn't even his, to live in the pattern that his parents had set out for them since he and his brother were children.

He had been so desperate to get away from a pre-planned life, and yet here he was again, the rest of his future determined by somebody else. Was he not allowed to have his own hopes for himself?

"And this here is the dining hall. You six will be eating alone for the first week of training, but soon the contractors the Doctor hired will be arriving." The lieutenant turned sharply to face them, her face all downturned angles. "You will not interact with the contractors at any point. If you so much as speak to them, you will be placed into isolation to continue your training until they depart." Her eyes hardened, reminding Clarkston of an hawk he had once seen perching on top of their barn. "That would be detrimental to the mission, so I strongly suggest you don't even entertain that notion."

She continued along her path of the hangar, the silence filling in between each of the teens. Kennedy, Ash, and London were grouped together in front of Clarkston, and behind him Carter, shoulders hunched and gaze darting around. To his left was Darius, silent anxiety rolling off him, from the twitch of his lips to the shaking in his hands.

Clarkston had to get all of them out of here, some way. He couldn't just let them be stuck in this place, condemned to becoming guinea pigs for a literal mad scientist. And there was no way in all the world that he was going to be leaving this place without all of them.

He had to be the oldest one here, Clarkston reasoned. And being the oldest, by default, made him responsible for all of them, for keeping them safe.

It had been like this his entire life. After his brother skipped town, Clarkston was now the role-model. The person his little siblings, his cousins, the kids who came by yearly on fieldtrips to look up to and see as an example. And he had never once complained, at least, not aloud. Never aloud. But he had written enough songs in the dead of night, lulling the cows to sleep with words that poured out of him.

Now wasn't the time to complain either. Now, Clarkston didn't had the luxury of hiding at midnight to sing, to let himself escape his responsibilities. He was truly, for the first time in his life, trapped.

They had come back to the room they had first woken up in, and the room had been renovated in their absence. Four sets of walled in bunk beds were set up, two to each side of the room, curtains drawn across them for some semblance of privacy. Dressers took up the space between the sets, three drawers each.

And there were men. Two men in the same uniform as the Lieutenant, though the patches on their shoulders were different from hers.

Lieutenant Dafferny motioned for all of them to entire, and they shuffled in single file, until they were grouped just inside the room, attention caught between the men at the back of the room, and the Lieutenant at the door.

"These men are your guards," she said, looking over the six of them. "They are not here for your safety, they are here to keep you contained and behaving properly. They have been authorized to use force when compliance is not being given to them. Don't make them resort to harming you."

She lifted her arm, and the sleeve shifted, revealing a sleek black watch on her wrist. "It is currently 2100 hours. You will be expected to be in your bunks with lights out before 2115. Rest is a necessity in your training."

And then she simply left. The door cluncked loudly after she closed it, and Clarkston inhaled deeply. They were locked in now. He turned to the other teens. "Well, I suppose we get some rest now and hit the hay. We don't know what tomorrow is going to bring, but I can bet y'all it won't be like anything we've ever known before. I know none of us know what's going on right now, but our safest bet is to just listen and follow orders. They've already expressed consequences, so let's not find out what those feel like."

Carter scoffed, his posture stand-offish once more now that the Lieutenant was gone. "And who placed you in charge? There's no chance that I'm listening to a coward like you."

Clarkston prepared himself for a fight, for retaliation, yet it didn't come. Carter just moved to the furthest bunk set. "I don't care what else you losers do, but if someone tries to bunk with me, those armed guards over there will be the least of your concerns." He drew back the curtain to the bottom bunk and didn't even bother to kick off his boots before settling in. The curtain closed with a rattle.

That was enough to snap what little strenuous attention the others had tied to Clarkston, and they ambled away, muttering and fragmenting to the different bunks. Only Ash stayed by his side, her hands tucked into her pockets.

"Give them time." Her voice was low. "Working together is the last thing we want to think about tonight. Right now, we're just reeling and want to go home."

Clarkston's brow lowered. "And you think I don't?"

Ash shrugged. "I can't tell you what you're feeling about all of this. That's for you to decide." She started step away, then paused. "You really want them to listen to you, Clarkston? Give them a reason to trust you. Because right now, you're siding with the people that kidnapped us. And that's not a good side to be on."

She left to go speak with the other girls, and Clarkston turned his attention to the only other bed available to him. Darius had claimed the other bottom bunk, but he was just sitting on the edge of it, fingers drumming against his knees.

Clarkston untied his boots and then kicked them off, his socked feet sliding slightly on the flooring as he moved for the ladder to the top bunk. Ash's words clattered around in his head, repeating as he pushed himself onto his bed, the frame of it creaking from his weight. You're siding with the people that kidnapped us. He didn't think that's what he was doing. He was just trying to protect them! And right now, that meant playing along. They had to play along.

He didn't bother closing the curtain to his bunk, just faced away from the opening, his back to everything else. Minutes of muffled silence passed, before there were footsteps crossing the room. The light clicked off.

Clarkston sighed and shifted on the bed, regretting his decision to not get more comfortable when he had climbed into bed, his blanket trapped beneath him, and the pillow jammed into an awkward position. He was so caught up in his own annoyances, he almost missed it.

Someone was crying. It wasn't loud, and it wasn't completely noticeable either, but he had been around his sister enough to notice when someone was trying to hide their tears.

Ash was completely right. The others would never look to him for guidance or leadership if they didn't have a reason to trust him. How many times had he had to prove himself to Enily and how he cared for her before she started sharing her secrets that she kept even from their mother and father? How long had it taken for Timothy to finally tell him he was being picked on at school, all because of the way he walked?

These teens had no reason to trust them. In their eyes, they really did just see someone who rolled over and didn't fight back. That wasn't what Clarkston wanted them to see him as. But how could he really prove to them that he was trustworthy?

A second pair of boots made their way across the room, to meet up with the first guard that had moved to the door and shut off the lights. Tension built between his shoulders, and Clarkston forced himself to exhale. Anything that he could hope to plan would have to wait until the morning. There was no way those guards were going to let anything happen at this point.

All Clarkston had to do was wait, and then he could move into action. All he had to do was prove himself to them.

Somehow.

○○○

The world snapped to life in a flurry of lights and yelling. The men with guns were stomping around the room, yanking back curtains and yelling at them to go!

Clarkston had woken up almost immediately, hopping the men still screaming at them as the teens rushed from their bunks, bleary eyed and dazed as they muddled through pulling boots on and lining up as the guards instructed.

Carter was nowhere to be seen, and London was still struggling to lace up her boots when a clunk came from behind the door and it swung open, Lieutenant Dafferny standing there with two other guards behind her. Where did they all keep coming from? Ash snapped to an immediate salute, and hurriedly Clarkston followed suit, the other teens not far behind.

All except for Carter. Had he somehow escaped in the night? Had he managed to get past the guards somehow, but left them all there instead of sharing the information?

A snore curled up from his bunk.

Clarkston rolled his eyes. Of course he was still asleep. But no. No sane person would ever be able to remain asleep through all of this. He had to be faking, just another way to remain defiant against the people who had placed them here.

The Lieutenant made her way down the middle of the room, her eyes piercing and catching every small detail about them. Finally, she stopped at Carter's bunk, then looked to the guard stationed next to it. "Get him out of there." The words had barely been finished before the guard was grabbing him by the boots and pulling, the action followed through with enough force to bring his body out, which crumpled upon hitting the floor.

He groaned, his arms too slow in pushing himself back up, voice still thick with sleep. "Wha?" He shook out one hand, then rubbed at the back of his head, glaring at the Lieutenant. "What in the fresh he—"

"Enough," Dafferny cut him off, the movment of her hand one of silence. "When the guards wake you in the morning, you are to make yourselves presentable and line up for morning inspection. Do you understand?"

A beat of silence. Once again, Ash seemed to know how to proceed, and responded first. "Yes Ma'am!"

The others echoed the phrase after her, but the responses were mumbled. Clarkston's gaze caught on the bruise from the day before having now exploded into violent color across London's cheek, and the dark circles that etched themselves beneath Kennedy's eyes.

Even Ash looked worse for wear, her braided ponytail now mussed with flyaway portions, and her jumpsuit creased with wrinkles, her zipper having come down in the middle, revealing a pale blue shirt in the revealed space.

Wait. No. Clarkston shouldn't even be noticing that. It was weird, and creepy, and totally wrong. He should have been focusing on gaining their trust and finding a way out of there for all of them. That was the only important thing.

Sticks. The Lieutenant had still been giving commands, and he had just missed all of them. The girls started to move from their side of the room, Ash in front of the line with London at the back, who cast a furtive look at Clarkston and tilted her head in a gesture to follow them. So he did, keeping his footsteps in time with theirs, he could hear two more sets not far behind him.

Clarkston had to focus on his surroundings now. There was no way they were getting out of he if he was going to keep being distracted.

They made their way through hallway, pasing doors with small windows cut through the middle. Clarkston tried to sneak glances through when he could, catching sight of men and women in lab coats, and another door further down that revealed what appeared to be a medical room, a man in scrubs pulling on gloves.

And then they had arrived to the dining hall. Clarkston took a deep breath, then followed the Lieutenant in.