Page 60 of The Order

“I bet it was the Unfortunate. Who knows what his kind does when there are no eyes on them,” one of Josh’s friends says, causing a few to laugh, Josh included.

“Why don’t you come here and say it to my face?” Fallan questions, breaking his silence for the first time. Mouths fly open. Heads snap back toward our section of the room. I hear Fallan slam his hands on his desk, already forcing himself onto his feet. I follow his motion.

Josh is the first to move toward the back of the room. The man who said the comment is not too far behind him. I step in between the groups, readying myself for the world of problems Fallan has thrown us both into.

“Wanna repeat that, pig?” Josh hisses, pointing at Fallan. I hold my position.

“Josh, walk away,” I say, watching his eyes avert down to me.

“So that's what you are now, Blackburn?” Josh questions, ignoring Mrs. Auburn's plea to have him take his seat. His companions watch in anticipation. “Are you an Unfortunate loving whore just like your mommy?” Josh pushes. I’m enticed by the brief desire to see how many more bruises I might be able to give him today.

“Last time I checked, she isn't the one who said something outside of regulation,” Fallan says, stopping Josh’s walk toward me.

“You’re right,'' Josh begins, giving Fallan a soft smile, his hands fumbling at his side. “I think I should test my theory first,'' he finishes, pulling something free from his waist. The glimmer of metal passes over my vision. Rae’s manicured hand is the first to meet my back before Fallan’s rough palm shoves my lower stomach, nicking his hand in the process as Josh’s blade barely grazes my front. I watch the panic flood over Fallan’s face at the realization Josh just saw him touch me. His buddies are too preoccupied with keeping away prying eyes to make a comment. Mrs. Auburn finally notices how escalated this situation has become.

“I knew it,” Josh says with bared teeth, glaring between Fallan and me. “I knew I’ve seen this before-” he begins, enraging Fallan.

“Don’t you dare say another word,” Fallan yells. Did something happen that I don’t know about? Have they spoken before?

"Scared I’ll ruin it all?” Josh hisses silently, making Fallan take a step back.

I take the opportunity of the two men’s focus on one another to grab my blade from my bag. Feeling it pair with my chip, I swipe toward Josh, giving him a good blow to his stomach with my foot once he avoids the blade. The swipes force him to provide us with the space we all need. With a few uneven steps, he backs into his companions, all of them ready to brace him from falling.

Tensions in the classroom are at an all-time high. Paint cups and brushes are scattered on the floor. Mrs. Auburn’s hands are twisted in her curls out of frustration.

Another figure enters the classroom with a wide grin, clapping his hands sporadically like a gleeful child about to get a treat. The claps are loud and distracting, causing the boys to turn away their focus on each other. I back myself into Fallan, letting my body shove him as hard as I can to get him away from the group and closer to the back. His body is strong against mine, barely moving. He eventually picks up on what I’m trying to do, giving him the one way past these men that won't end in us getting into a full-on brawl.

Rae’s head pulls away from the class's front door. Watching Fallan and I move, I silently beg her to go along with what she’s seeing. She bites her lip, angrily getting to her feet and forcing herself to take my extended hand. I urge her to move with us, past the now-distracted group and into the empty space of the classroom.

Max stands in front of the classroom, looking over before landing on our group. Fallan is back to his normal seat a few feet away, now far away enough from Josh and his friends that none of them can continue badgering him. Even then, Josh and Fallan watch one another like wild animals. It doesn't take long for Max to finally speak up.

“What could you possibly say right now, Mr. Vega?” Mrs. Auburn questions, clearly annoyed at the state of panic in her classroom.

“There's an Unfortunate flogging happening in the dining hall,” Max says excitedly, not allowing anyone to respond as he moves out of the classroom, taking several enthusiastic students with him.

I look back at Fallan. Grabbing Rae’s hand, I seize the opportunity to follow a few students out of the classroom to observe the chaos. We stride out into the hallway with the others, letting our walk turn into a run once the group's pace becomes frenzied. Fallan is not too far behind us, staring dead forward in anticipation of the horrors that await us around the corner.

Officials surround the young Unfortunate transfer student, holding down his hands with bands meant to keep his wrists down on the floor. The bands are solid metal, tightening each time he tries to escape the humiliating position the Officials have forced him into. I watch the tears roll down his cheeks in between his pleas for mercy. His voice makes my stomach writhe. Max is pumping his fist toward the front of the crowd, letting out shouts that only work up the students around him.

I grab his shoulder, pulling him back toward me, leaning into his ear.

“Max, what the hell did he do?” I question, growing more uneasy at the sight of the Officials pulling free their light sensor prods from their sides.

Fallan lingers in the back, panning his eyes from the Unfortunate to Josh’s quiet figure only a few feet away. Rae has found herself beside my brother, trying her best to speak to him. He looks over the group, no doubt trying to pinpoint me in the wave of gray uniforms.

“He was stealing extra portions of food and sneaking it back to his sector for his folks. He gave the Officials some lip, even threatened one!” Max explains, barely finding the time to give me any eye contact. He seems feral at the idea of violence.

The men begin tearing away the top layer of the boy's uniform, revealing a very worn, thin shirt meant to stay beneath the already-used uniform. He can’t be any older than a third year, yet his back is already rough from the marks of prods that have met his skin countless times before, just like Fallan’s.

Just like all the Unfortunates.

In one way or another, they all bear scars from my people.

“We just throw away all that extra food,” I begin, watching the Officials taunt the boy with slow drags of their prods down his back. The students roar to life, encouraging the behavior.

“Maybe this will teach you to stop stealing from our sector!” one of the Officials, the man who touched me up my front, yells, waving his hands to get the students to begin cheering more.

Max grabs my elbow, finally making eye contact with me.

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