The boy leads me across the field towards a single two-storied building which sinks into the ground. It's a simple structure made from wood and straw.
"The homestead," he says, gesturing towards the entrance, "where most of us sleep." He shows me inside.
"It's-" I start, "cramped." Hammocks are arranged in rows, and dirty sheets are strewn haphazardly across the ground in this communal living space. In the far corner are sheets strewn up: thin space dividers.
"There's not enough room in here anymore, so the remaining sleep by the gardens." He pushes aside a thin sheet serving as a divider and shows me into a smaller space. "This is me." He says. A single hammock hangs from the wooden rafters, and a small trunk lies next to it. The whole space is can't be larger than two arms' widths across.
I wonder briefly why it is that he gets his own space; the others are cramped into the communal room.
"I'm second in command. After Alby, who you saw today." Newt adds, recognizing my slight confusion. The face of the dark skinned man from earlier surfaces.
"Your leader."
"Yes. He was the first." the boy says quickly before pushing aside the divider and leading me into an even smaller space. A hammock hangs by the wooden wall, and the dust flies up through the space as the sheet is cast aside.
"We made plans to put the new Greenie in with all the other guys, but for obvious reasons, that might not be the best idea." He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, eyes trained on the empty hammock in a way that makes me double take in case he's seeing something I don't.
"Oh," I say, looking down. "I can sleep outside if I'm kicking someone out."
"No it's fine. No one was using this space. It was-" he starts, then closes his mouth. "They sent up some clothes for you in the box, probably cause you're a different er, size, than the rest of us. Some shank'll bring 'em over later." At his words, I glance down at myself: black cargos, a fitted shirt, and hiking boots. Clothes primed for movement.
I say nothing, managing a nod.
"I'll be outside when you're done. Alby wanted me and a couple of the other shanks to give you the tour before the celebration tonight."
"Celebration?"
"Yeah, for you." He says, before disappearing, leaving me alone in the room that's supposedly mine. My head pounds still, the rattling of the cage and screeching of gears still ringing though my ears.
- - -
After mentally calming myself down for a while, I'm ready to make my way back out to the front of the homestead, where Newt should be waiting for me. I push aside the divider and walk through the empty homestead until I reach the entrance, finding instead another boy. He's breathing heavily, hands on his knees. I step through the frame quietly, hoping to slip beneath his attention, but he looks up.
Our eyes meet. He exhales sharply, and his widen for just a heartbeat. They're grey: a stony, slate colour.
"Sorry," I mutter and take a step back. The boy continues to stare at me, squinting now.
He's tall and slim with a narrow frame; his black hair is dishevelled and sticking up in odd places.
After several minutes, he opens his mouth, half- gaping.
"You-" he whispers, some strange disbelief lacing his tone. After another moment, the straightens, blinking twice as his eyes shift. "Who are you?"
"I'm-" I start, and the feeling returns. It makes me want to crawl off some precipice or beat my head against the wall just so I may remember."I don't know- yet."
There's another moment of silence between us, then, abruptly, he bursts out laughing. I can't help take another step back at the strange reaction.
"Shut up! I can't believe I missed the look on all their faces!" He tilts his head back and lets out another throaty laugh. "I was running- my bad." He looks at me once again, and all uncertainty and apprehension is gone from his grey eyes. I
"Julian." He says, lips curving upwards in a mischievous smirk.
It doesn't reach his eyes.
"Why were you running?"
"Not for me to tell." He says quickly, glancing over his shoulder and back at the field. I follow his gaze and see a group of boys heading towards us. "Brace yourself." He mutters, stepping out of the doorframe, baring me to the strange place and into view.
Instantly, the group stops. Someone even drops a rucksack. Julian sniggers from my right.
"Holy shuck."
"That's the Greenie?"
The party resumes their advance, stopping only at the threshold where Julian and I stand.
"The box." They all say in unison.
"Excuse me?"
Silence.
"Alright guys, that's enough drooling." A voice sounds from behind them. I mutter a quick blessing to whoever's saved me from the beyond awkward previous situation.
The boys instantly quiet as an asian boy steps forward. He's shorter but muscular, black hair cropped, and missing a smile. "Minho." He says to me. "See you've already met Julian." He shoots him some pointed look that only widens Julian's smile before turning back to the group. "Alright, get to the map room, shanks." The boys disperse except for Julian.
"I'll catch you around then?" Another smile. I haven't the energy to try for one myself.
"Of course." I say, watching as he runs off after them.
As soon as they're all gone, I make to exit the homestead. The boy from earlier, Newt, is waiting for me. Sitting on a rock against the ramshackle building, he's carefully sharpening a knife with a small stone. Upon hearing my footsteps, he looks up.
"I take it you met them runners?" he asks, accent thick in his words.
"Runners?"
He runs a hand through his hair, pursing his lips.
"Right, there's a lot to explain before tonight." He stands, walking towards me.
I have all of three second to register the sudden throbbing in my head before darkness floods in.
It's strikingly abrupt; my vision goes black and I make to scream in the darkness, but no sound surfaces.
Please. Not again.
Another three seconds, and the pain relents. Light floods in, but I'm slipping. Desperately grasping for any strand of consciousness to hold fast to, I realize there is no point.
I let go.
- - -
There's a lady in sitting before of me. She's wearing a white lab coat, her features unreadable, shifting. In one hand, she holds a piece of paper, and in the other, a single syringe with orange liquid filled to the top.
The tip of the needle is sharp and biting, gleaming under fluorescents.
"Let's try again." She says. Her voice is silken, soothing to the ear.
Whirring and a sharp click.
To my right, a girl appears. With a gasp, I realize it's me. I'm sitting on a plain bench wearing nothing but a white sheet. The woman reaches towards me and I let her touch my bare arm. I do not shrink away.
"Are you ready?" She asks. I say nothing. "Good." The woman writes something on the sheet of paper.
I am numb to the prick of the needle against my forearm.
When I look up, the lady is smiling. I can't see her eyes, though red painted lips are curved upwards in a sugary sneer.
"Now, what is your name?" she asks.
"Y/N" I say, without hesitation.
- - -
"Y/N!" I gasp, opening my eyes.
"It's y/n!" I yell again before I register myself falling forward. I brace for impact upon the hard gravel, closing my eyes once more, but I never feel the bite.
The sandy haired boy is quick on his feet, striding forwards and catching me on my way down. I feel his thin steady me, and I wait for a moment to register the abrupt contact before looking up at him.
"You alright then?" his eyes are wide with confusion, and I offer no answers; I have none myself. After a moment of silence, he blinks, eyes narrowing slightly.
They're close- too close. I jerk away, stumbling back. He allows me the space. His face betrays nothing.
"I-" I pant, "I remembered."
"I'm glad."
"Will the rest come back?" I press, but he shakes his head.
"Never has." He notices my frown and tries for a smile to lighten the mood, "come on then, the others will be excited to hear; it's almost celebration time."
I offer a smile that feels more like a grimace, and start after him towards the others.