• PROLOGUE

    Today was supposed to be the big day; the day of the Graduation Exam, not the day of the Graduation Exam-from-Hell. Now, instead of celebrating my first successful field mission with my two best friends, I am grieving the possibility of their deaths while tied up in the back of a van.
    This is my story, and I pray you heed its warning.















    ONE

    All I’d known was that I was being adopted. I had been so excited, because it wasn’t often that children over 10 got adopted but, for some reason, I’d been chosen. Me: a 15 year old born into the status of orphan.
    I’d lived at the Warm Beds Orphanage my entire life. I’d been dropped on the door step as a new born, fresh out of my mom, literally. The nanny at the orphanage rushed me to the hospital, not noticing the note pinned to my blanket until the doctors asked her to hold it while they put me in the Intensive Care Unit. The note said: “Katarina”. Even though the teenage mother who had given birth to me had abandoned me, I was still named Katarina.
    As I grew, my “siblings” came and went from the orphanage, while I was left behind, always left behind. I knew from watching that not all adoptions lasted, but I knew mine would because I would do anything to keep from being un-adopted.
    SO, finally the day came when I was to be taken to my new home. I said goodbye to my nanny, the only mother I’d ever known, grabbed my duffle bag with my few possessions, and walked out the door for the last time.
    •♦•

    I was greeted by a large man in a suit (he reminded me of the Men in Black movies). He took my duffle bag for me and helped me into a large SUV that was parked along the side walk. He never said a word through the entire time, even when I said ‘thank you’.
    The car ride seemed to take forever, but I didn’t care, the silence allowed me to imagine what my new life would be like:
    The man in the suit was my dad, and he was an important, rich, businessman. My mother would be a homemaker, and bake cookies, and take me shopping, and—
    The car stopped at a red light so suddenly that I almost broke my nose on the back of the driver’s seat. The impact made my nose tingle, and led to me sneezing a couple hundred times.
    The man finally spoke: “Why aren’t you wearing your seatbelt?” His voice was not fatherly at all, but sounded as though he were my boss and I’d intentionally broken the copier.
    “Oh, um I must have forgotten.” I said very quietly. The seatbelt click seemed to be as loud as a nuclear explosion in the still air.
    I didn’t imagine anything for the rest of the ride; this man was not my father.
    •♦•

    Shortly after the seatbelt incident, we arrived at our destination. Whatever the hell that was.
    It wasn’t a house, like I expected. It was nothing. I couldn’t see anything. It was just a bunch of nothing in the desert somewhere.
    I watched the man carefully as he got out of the car; he opened the door and extended his arm, as if to welcome me.
    “There’s nothing there.” I said timidly.
    The man nodded, as if to say ‘oh, right. I forgot’. He then leaned over me to get a box from the seat next to mine. He proceeded to open it and hand me what was inside. It was some sort of contacts.
    I gave him a look, and he said, “These will allow you to see your new home. We must keep it a secret from wandering eyes.”
    I stared at him for another second, almost thinking him crazy. Then I shrugged and put the contacts in.
    I blinked a few times to help them settle over my pupil, but I couldn’t even feel them. I even stuck my finger in my eye, and all I felt was the pain of touching my own eyeball.
    “What the hell?” I yelped angrily.
    “They’ve become one with your eyes. You belong here.”
    I finally looked at him.
    He extended his arm again, and this time I saw the most enormous building I’d ever seen in my life. It was like a mansion/sky scraper/ military facility. There were a lot of security guards at the entrances, and sentries roaming the perimeter. It looked as if there were about 42 floors total, and, not only that, the building alone looked to be about 50 acres; not to mention all the fields where I could see scrimmages taking place. I could hear gunshots and explosions and everything! The fields ranged in terrain, some were forested, and others arctic, some even seemed to be ocean-like. Though the building looked ominous and impenetrable, it seemed somewhat like home also. Whatever this place was, it was my new home.
    My jaw had dropped, and the man actually smiled at me. “Please, let me show you the inside.”
    I nodded slowly, forcing my mouth closed.
    He chuckled and reached for my duffle bag, but I grabbed it first. “Thanks, but I’d like to carry it.” He shrugged and motioned me forward. I jumped down from the tall seat and stuck the landing. I heard the door slam behind me, and watched as the man led the way. I followed obediently.
    The building got bigger and bigger until we were right under it, and I had to strain my neck to see the top. As I was looking up, I bumped into the man’s back. I jumped backward and cringed away from him as he turned around. He shook his head, told me to ‘pay attention’ and then put in a pin number on a key pad. The doors in front of us slid open, and I followed him in.
    The ‘lobby’ (I guess you could call it) took up about 4 of the 42 floors. It was large, fancy, and full of people in business attire. There were large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and the architecture of the room was absolutely Greek, with a hint of gothic archways every now and then. Some of the business-y people turned to stare at me, obviously wondering why I was there. I was wondering the same thing…
    The man in the suit stopped again, this time to wait for the elevator. I stood with him, looking at nothing or no one, feeling the stares on my back.
    “Um—”
    “Shh, hold all questions.” He interrupted, without even looking at me.
    I pressed my lips together and nodded. Just then, the elevator opened. I stepped inside after the man, who pressed a few buttons on another key pad and then got out of the elevator. I tried to follow but he held up a hand and said, “All questions will be answered. When the elevator stops, get off and ask the woman there to see Skylar.”
    I nodded nervously.
    As he smiled to reassure me, the doors closed and the elevator started moving upward.
    It took forever for the elevator doors to open again, so I guessed I was on a higher floor.
    I stepped off the elevator slowly, looking around and clutching my duffle bag to me.
    I was in a reception area, with a bunch of lounge chairs and coffee tables full of magazines and warm beverages. I breathed deeply and took in the smell of warm apple cider. Following the smell, I ended up at the desk where a woman sat. I looked away from her cider and into her face.
    She was kind of old, but still looked young, in a regal way, not the face lifts and spray tans way. Her hair was blond with bits of gray, and her eyes were a clear blue. She was well-endowed, but hid it with a fancy pant suit: dark blue.
    “Can I help you?” She asked proddingly.
    I blinked a few times, then answered, “Oh, um… I need to see Skylar?”
    It came out as a question, and the woman smiled tenderly.
    “Of course, you must be Katarina. We’ve all looked forward to your arrival. And Dave wasn’t kidding; you are a knock-out, even for 13.” The woman continued smiling as I blushed. She motioned for me to sit down, and I did so obligingly, still hugging my duffle bag.
    The regal-looking woman picked up her phone and dialed a few numbers, then said into the phone: “Hello, Skylar. Katarina is here for you… Yes… Mhmm… Certainly sir, right away… Good bye sir.” She put her phone down, and looked at me again. “Would you like anything dear?”
    My tongue ached for some cider… but I shook my head ‘no’.
    “Ok, darling; just let me know if you need anything.”
    I nodded and stared at the magazines on the table. They weren’t the typical waiting room magazines. The headlines read: ‘How to trick your opponent into surrender!’, and ‘What to do when you’ve lost your navigator!’ I shook these off and turned to a newspaper instead: “DISTRICT NEWS: All the latest in the facility” I blinked and then looked at the front page headline: “New recruits scheduled to arrive over the next week!” The whole article was just a list of names and when they were expected to arrive. I was in the second column: “Katarina – Any day now” I gasped and threw the newspaper away as if it were a snake.
    “Something wrong dear?” the receptionist asked.
    “Uh… No. I’m fine.” I looked away, and she shrugged, not pushing me to talk.
    All of a sudden the intercom on her desk buzzed, and then I heard a deep male voice: “Tabatha, send in Katarina please.” The receptionist, Tabatha, responded:
    “Right away, sir.” She then motioned me down a long hallway, at the end of which was a large door, with a big S on it.
    I walked slowly, prolonging the trip down the darkening hallway.
    When I did reach the door, I knocked ever so slightly, and the door flew open. I jumped back, but then entered slowly.
    It was a large office, much brighter than the hallway. There were two couches facing each other, separated by, yet another coffee table full of warm drinks. There was also a large desk, across from a large window; out of which I could see the road, and the SUV (which looked very tiny; I had been right, I was on an upper floor) I had gotten out of earlier. I felt a chill run up my spine.
    “Katarina!” cried a deep male voice.
    I jumped again, and saw a rather small figure emerge from a door at the far end of the office. He was rather skinny, and pale. His hair was chin length and black, in the classic emo style, very hot. But his eyes, which were so full of kindness, were so dark that they looked black.
    It was official: Skylar was gorgeous.
    I blinked and smiled shyly at him.
    “I’m so glad you’re here, please come sit.” He said as he plopped down on one of the couches. I sat on the couch across from him, still clutching my duffle bag, as if it would keep me safe.
    “So, Katarina, what do you think of DISTRICT so far?” He asked, purely curious.
    “Um… It’s very regal and fancy… and, uh… very… omniscient, I guess is the word.”
    He laughed, and it was the sound of angels.
    “What a creative way to put it. I knew I selected the right 15-year-old!”
    I blushed, and tried to hide my face in my bag without being rude.
    “Now, Katarina, there is much to be explained, are you ready?” He was suddenly so serious that it scared me a little.
    But, I nodded anyway.
    And so began my life as a DISTRICT Recruit.