Into the Fire (Flame in the Shadows Trilogy #1)

12. Mel

CHAPTER TWELVE

MEL

Why does everything have to be black?

Midafternoon three weeks after my arrival in the caves, I’m in my room, fishing a pair of shorts and a tank top out of a dresser full of regulation black. I miss having a colorful wardrobe almost as much as I miss the outdoors.

Maybe today I’ll get to taste fresh air again. Tommy pulled me from my chores early, his only explanation being I need to train on another set of skills. He told me to change into workout clothes and left it at that.

I have no idea what sort of task might require workout clothes, but I hope if it doesn’t involve going outside, it’ll at least be something interesting. So far, I’ve spent my days learning to cook, digging up tubers in the huge cavern that houses the gardens, making sure the many lanterns and fires throughout the caves stay lit, scrubbing the common areas, and washing infinite amounts of dishes and laundry by hand.

I don’t mind paying my dues, but I’m more than ready for a change of pace. Living at the headquarters of a secret Resistance is a lot less exciting than I thought it would be, more like a prison than anything else. Except in prison, people have allies, don’t they? Here, there’s none of that. No opportunity to snoop and no one to answer my questions.

It’s why I didn’t bother to ask Tommy what new skills I’ll be learning today. I already know he won’t answer.

I slam the drawer shut.

Tommy has barely spoken to me since the day I got here. At first, I expected him to get over his foul mood and go back to being the person I met last month in the woods. Distant, a little awkward, but nice. Caring enough to go out of his way to help a stranger.

I tried speaking to him, not speaking to him, being angry, appealing to his sympathy. Nothing’s worked. He’s endlessly frigid.

I yank off my clothes, irritation and hurt stabbing at my heart. When Tommy’s not around, I get no reprieve; the others are no better.

They’re willing to train me, but every one of them clams up the second I try to talk about anything unrelated to the task at hand. No one speaks to me outside of giving instruction. I have no friends here.

Out of everyone in the Resistance, only five recruits are around my age.

Tommy is one.

Cait is another. On the rare occasion we cross paths, she never fails to shoot me a dirty look before stalking away. More often than not, Tommy’s with her. It makes me wonder whether she hates me so much because they’re together.

It might explain Tommy’s attitude. He must want to show me, and her, that he’s not interested in being my friend. Maybe she’s mad he went so far out of his way to help me, both that day in the woods and the following night. If so, I wish she’d focus her antagonism on him. It’s not like I asked him to intervene.

I’ve yet to meet the other younger members, but I’ve heard their names a few times in passing. Sam. Hunter. Vik . If they’re Cait and Tommy’s friends, I don’t have much hope for when we do meet. They’ll probably ignore me too.

I pull on a tank top and shorts, angry at myself for caring.

Ten minutes later, I follow Tommy through the craggy halls, my stomach uneasy.

Why is Cait here?

We haven’t been this close to each other since the day I joined the Resistance. My back tingles where her gun jabbed into my spine, but I swallow my discomfort. I will not let her see me as weak.

Near the end of a long, empty corridor, Tommy pushes through a plain door I’ve never noticed before and leads us into a cavernous room. A disbelieving smile spreads across my face.

It’s a gym.

The floor is covered in black mats. The walls are made of logs, like a cabin, except the far one, which is mirrored from floor to ceiling. There are real lights in here too, and free weights, and BOSU balls, and treadmills, and a climbing wall, and— oh— an obstacle course!

Amazing. They don’t have hot water or modern appliances, but they have this. An underground, fully stocked, secret workout club.

To sprint again! To lift! To climb!

A delighted laugh bubbles up my throat, catching me by surprise. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like laughing. Beaming, I turn to Tommy.

His lips twitch, and I swear I see a spark of amusement flare behind his eyes, but before I can be sure, it’s gone.

“How have you not shown me this before? Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed running?”

His lips quirk up again, just a little, as he runs his fingers through his golden-brown curls. “I’m sorry,” he says, but doesn’t offer any kind of explanation for having kept me away.

Cait’s eyes glint, colder than ice, and her mouth might as well be chiseled from stone. I have no idea what Tommy sees in her. Does she ever smile? I bet she doesn’t even know how.

Doing my best to ignore the shudder this thought sends through me, I turn and head for the nearest treadmill. It won’t be as good as running outside, but it’ll do.

Tommy blocks my path. “Actually, we’re here to teach you to fight. The caves could be discovered at any moment, and if they are, you’ll need to defend yourself. Organization capture would not only be a death sentence for you, it could also lead to spilled secrets for us. That’s dangerous for everyone.”

Hang on.

I have to learn to fight? From them?

Anxiety spikes in my chest, not at the idea of Organization capture, but at the prospect of training for combat with Tommy and Cait. I’ve never fought before, and I’m pretty uncoordinated. I don’t want to make a fool of myself, least of all in front of them.

Wringing my hands, I ask, “Isn’t there someone, I don’t know … else … who could teach me?”

“We’re two of the best fighters in the Resistance,” Cait answers tartly. “You couldn’t find more competent instructors. Besides, Lisa said it has to be us, so let’s get it done.”

I gulp. I’d rather take a swim in the freezing river that runs above the caves than be stuck here for who knows how long with Cait and Tommy. I don’t know if my fragile emotional state can bear it.

Two hours and one ultra-embarrassing bloody nose later, I gape at Tommy, all who-knows-how-many pounds of him, sprawled on his back with slim little Cait straddling his hips, her blade at his throat. The way she just spun him over her shoulder like he was nothing. How?

She smirks at him—guess she can smile after all—and hops to her feet, hand extended.

He returns her grin as he pulls himself up. It’s annoying how good he looks in gym clothes, those carved muscles working, gleaming with sweat.

“I know it’s not in your nature, but how about slowing down so Mel can learn?” he asks her.

Cait rolls her eyes. “Enemies won’t go easy.” But she turns to me nonetheless, going through the motions again on an invisible opponent. “When you’re up against someone bigger than you, you have to be quick, your execution flawless. Use their weight and momentum against them.”

I study her movements, the way she coordinates her whole body to channel her strength. I noticed the same sort of graceful flow an hour ago when she and Tommy taught me to punch and kick using sparring pads and a heavyweight bag. But as hard as I tried, I couldn’t get my muscles to work together like theirs.

My gaze floats over the other pairs of fighters scattered around us. Their moves are impressive too. Fast, smooth, powerful. Like a violent dance.

“Eyes over here, Mel,” Tommy says, and I pull my attention from the woman with spiky brown hair currently pulverizing her opponent across the mat from us. I hope they aren’t expecting me to fight like that. I can’t even make Tommy’s hands move when I punch the sparring pads.

“Sorry. Can you show me that again?”

I do my best to keep my mind on my teachers as the lesson progresses, but it’s hard. The later it gets, the more people show up to practice. I’ve never seen anything like these fighters in my life. They are absolutely lethal.

And when someone tall and tan strolls into the gym, waves toward Tommy and Cait, and heads for the spring that bubbles out of the wall at the end of the room, my eyes follow. He’s lean, with dark hair and warm brown eyes; he’s also in his early twenties at most.

He must be Sam, Vik, or Hunter.

The stranger peeks at me as he fills his water bottle, curiosity lighting his eyes. Before I can smile, he turns away.

“Excuse me,” Cait says, and she’s gone, weaving between the other gym-goers with the grace of a prima ballerina. The guy gives her a heart-stopping grin as she leans against the wall by his side to chat. Their laughter carries across the room.

“Mel, eyes over here,” Tommy says yet again, and I realize I’m staring.

“Sorry.” Not.

“You have the attention span of a butterfly, you know that?” He rolls his shoulders. “And based on these punches you’re throwing, you’re about as dangerous as one too.”

I snort, heat flushing up my neck. He’s not exactly wrong, but damn, I can’t believe he said that.

“I expected more after watching you run the other week. Where’d all that coordination go?”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what you’re missing. Coordination. You’re strong, but you lack efficiency. You’re working against yourself every time you move.”

“I haven’t been doing this as long as you.”

“I’m not a fan of excuses.”

Tommy smirks, and I fume, all the more because of the way my heart skips a beat.

With a toss of her perfect, silky blond hair, Cait claps the stranger on the shoulder and heads back to us. “Maybe we should finish up for today,” she says as she arrives, pointedly not looking at me. “She can only do so much right out of the gate. You’re going to need dinner before your shift, anyway.”

Tommy nods and turns to me. “Let’s get some food and get you back to your room.”

Ugh. I’d rather starve. The treadmills are beckoning, and the guy is still here, dawdling by the water.

Maybe he’s kinder than Tommy and Cait. Maybe he knows something about my parents. If I don’t take this chance to introduce myself, I’ll never find out.

I cross my arms and pop a hip. “Look, the Resistance can trust me. I haven’t put one toe out of line. I want to stay and run. Go have dinner. I’ll be fine here.”

“You need fuel after all that training.”

“I can fuel up after.”

Tommy’s mouth twists, but footsteps behind us save me from his reply. I turn to see who’s approaching, and it’s him . The stranger. He throws me a cheerful smile.

“I’ll stay with her,” he says to Tommy. His voice is smooth, friendly.

“I’m responsible for her,” Tommy snaps. I’m shocked by his harsh tone, but the guy seems unaffected.

“Calm down.” Cait rests a slender hand on Tommy’s arm. “You don’t have to watch her all the time. Let Sam do it for a while.”

So it’s Sam.

Tommy glares at him. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

The words are low. Dangerous. They send chills skittering over my skin.

I thought Tommy and Sam were friends. Why’s Tommy being so aggressive?

“Nope,” Sam says lightly, popping the P . He throws me a conspiratorial smile and winks. “I think I’m right where I need to be.”

I can’t help but laugh.

Cait rolls her eyes, pulling Tommy toward the exit by the back of his shirt. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Though Tommy allows himself to be dragged out, he glowers at Sam the whole way.

“That was weird,” I note.

“Yeah. Hey, I’m Sam, by the way.” He holds out a hand and his lovely brown eyes twinkle.

A grin rises to my lips as we shake. “I’m Mel. Thanks for doing that.”

“No problem. You want to spar?”

I don’t, to be honest. I miss running. But I’ll spar instead if it means I get to hang out with Sam. For the first time in weeks, my foggy sadness has lightened a shade.

“Sure. I’ve never sparred before, though. Cait and Tommy had me running drills.”

Sam grabs the pads Tommy left on the floor and straps them to his hands. “That’s fine. Freestyle on these for a bit.”

I throw a few jabs, then spin into a sloppy version of a roundhouse kick.

Sam meets me blow for blow. “Not bad. Target behind the pad. It’ll help your power.”

I throw a punch, incorporating his advice. To my amazement, the hit is much harder. I have to shake out my wrist.

“Thanks!” I beam, then throw several rapid-fire punches his way.

He chuckles. “Having fun?”

I laugh too, savoring the feeling. “Yeah. It’s been kind of miserable around here. This is nice.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I would’ve introduced myself earlier, but, well, Tommy asked me not to.”

Anger and hurt crash through my chest, ruining the moment of levity. I stop fighting, arms hanging limp while I struggle with a sudden, mortifying urge to cry.

Not only does Tommy not like me, he’s also actively keeping the others away. What have I done to deserve that?

“Why? Why does he hate me so much? He wasn’t like this at first, you know. He seemed nice.”

Sam lowers the pads, eyes full of pity. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s just an idiot sometimes.”

One corner of my mouth lifts in a half-hearted attempt at a smile. Sam’s being kind, but his kindness can’t change reality. He hasn’t seen how coldly Tommy looks at me, or the way Cait glowers every time she’s near me.

I push the heels of my palms into my eyes, willing the pressure away. “He does. Cait too.”

“Nah. She doesn’t.” Sam drops the pads and pulls my hands away from my face. “I mean it.”

I don’t know what to say, so I just look at him and pray the tears don’t roll. The sympathy in Sam’s gaze intensifies. He purses his lips. “This is all so stupid.”

“What?”

“You don’t deserve this. You can’t leave now, anyway.”

“You know you’re not making sense, right?”

Sam huffs a laugh. “Yeah, I know.” He sighs. “All right. Here’s the deal. Tommy’s trying to force you out of the Resistance. That’s why he’s been so cold toward you, and why he’s keeping everyone away. Why he told me to keep my distance.”

I gape, fury scorching through me again. “What?”

How could he? I might not be his favorite, but he of all people should understand why I need to be here.

“Yeah. So he doesn’t hate you, not at all. In fact, I think he quite likes you.” Sam waggles his eyebrows, an impish grin playing on his lips.

In spite of myself, I snort. “I think you’ve got this wrong.”

Sam studies his knuckles. “No. Tommy told me about his plan weeks ago. He’s going to be so mad I told you.” A wicked grin flashes across his face, and he looks up at me.

I start to pace, my throat on fire. “Why would he do that? Doesn’t he think I should get a say? And Cait. What’s her problem? Is she mad because he got mixed up with me?”

“Hmm. That could be part of it. Her main issue is she doesn’t trust you. Cait’s whole life is the Resistance. She sees you as a threat to her family, and she’s furious you’re not rotting away in a cell.”

I bark a laugh at that. Imagine Cait seeing me as a threat.

Sam’s still talking. “On the other hand, Tommy knows you’re no threat. He just wants you to be free. He’s got a big problem with being stuck here, and he doesn’t want you trapped like he is. He thinks it’s his fault you’re here.”

I trip to a stop, stunned. “His fault? But I wanted to come here.”

“I didn’t say it makes sense. He can be an idiot, remember?”

Biting my lip, I turn Sam’s words over in my mind. Tommy feels guilty. He doesn’t want me gone for his sake. He thinks forcing me out is helping me.

Hope curls through my chest. Perhaps life in the Resistance doesn’t have to be so miserable. I told Tommy why I want to be here, but he obviously didn’t understand. If I explain better, maybe he’ll ease up. Being an orphan himself, he’ll get it. Right?

“He really doesn’t hate me? You’re sure?”

Sam shoots me a slight smile. “Didn’t I already tell you? He definitely doesn’t hate you.”

Butterflies flip in my stomach as I consider trying to talk to him.

“I want to confront him about all this, but I don’t want to get you in trouble for telling me.”

“Confront him. He can’t do this to you forever. And don’t worry about me. I can handle whatever he throws at me for filling you in.”

I smile, tension jittering in my limbs. “Thanks.”

“No problem. He’s in the CCTV room. Go.” Sam’s grin widens.

With a wave, I slip out and head down the rocky corridor. My nerves jangle the whole way.