SICK HEART by Huss, JA (non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

take the stairs up to the top platform and slowly walk out into the middle of the helipad.

No one is sleeping up here but me now.

Rainer and Maart both like the container bedrooms. They are a home away from home for them. But I have never slept in one of those things and even though I can already smell the rain on the wind, I’m not gonna start now.

I walk around the side of the little building, pass the water tanks on the roof, and end up on the other side of the line of supply containers, then climb up and settle back on the rough, rusty roof.

There is a sudden flap of wings and then the irregular, wobbly patter of large webbed feet walking on the metal. My very first friend settles in next to me like no time has passed at all. Like the last twenty years never happened.

I turn and look at the giant albatross. His beak was a light peachy pink when we first met and now it’s patched with brown. His eyes used to be glossy black and now they’re just a tiny bit duller.

“We’re out of our prime now, buddy,” I say, putting my hands behind my head and sighing up at the dark moon. “The fights are over and it’s all downhill from here. But make no mistake, that’s a damn good thing.”

He just tucks his head under his wing and goes to sleep. Because there’s really nothing more to say about that.

It just is what it is.

I dream.

I dream about fights. And killing. And sick hearts. I dream about that fucking asshole, Lazar, and the time that came before my life with Udulf.

I dream of a tiny girl with dark hair, and gray eyes, and a pretty face, but no voice. Just hands and fingers for words. And in my dream, I call her Ainsey because she looks just like Ainsey. But her name isn’t Ainsey. It’s…

I wake to the sting of rain pelting my face before that missing piece can fall into place and I sit up, looking up at the storm. There are flashes of lightning off in the distance, but no thunder, so even though the threat feels close it’s all very, very far away.

My friend, the General, has left. He never did like to sleep in the rain the way I do.

But the wind makes up for the lack of thunder and the temperature has dropped just below what would make staying out here comfortable. So I get up, climb down the container, and head back towards the helipad.

I stop in my tracks when I come around the corner. Because in the middle of the platform is a single child-sized bed. There is no child on top of it though, because Ainsey is sleeping underneath it, out of the rain. And my winged friend has joined her. They are snuggled up against each other the way I used to snuggle into him when I was small.

I walk over and I’m just about to pull her out of there and take her downstairs with me, but then… then I just crawl under there with them.

And before I can even think another word, I’m asleep.

The final month on the Rock always goes the quickest. The first one always goes slow because everything is new, and different, and honestly, even though it’s hard for them, it’s also fun. Training camp on the Rock temporarily erases what happens back in our village on the mainland and the reality of what comes after camp is still very far away.

In the second month all the kids are thinking about their first test and what they need to do for the second one. And they are busy laughing again. Playing their hand-slapping games and speaking in their silent hand signals.

But the final month is a mixture of reality, and fear, and acceptance.

That’s why we give them the games. That’s why we give them beds, and books, and let them be kids. Because in the third month the truth is far, far too real not to think about it.

And once your fighter starts thinking about their own death, they’ve already lost.

It’s just a fact that most of these kids will be dead soon. And it’s not like I ever just accepted this as fact, it’s just… it’s just a lot easier to give in to the inevitable than it is to hold on to the fantasy that someone will show up at the last minute and save them. Because it never happens.

I used to dream about that too. Even after Maart came along and we were partners. I used to imagine that someone from my past would show up and make it all better.

That girl. I used to dream about that girl with no voice who had the face of Anya a few weeks ago, but has now taken on the face of Ainsey. I used to hope for her to come back and say… I don’t know… I’m sorry I left you behind. It was all just a big mistake. And she would take my hand and lead me somewhere… safe.

But it never happened.

I was about seven when I really came to terms with my situation. When I really understood that there was never going to be a rescue. When I truly accepted that at no point was anyone ever going to break into Udulf’s training camp, take care of business, and lead me out of this nightmare.

And that the only way I would live long enough to grow up is if I fought for it. Literally.

So that’s what I did. And that’s why I have this camp on the Rock for my fight kids. It’s a gradual lead-in to the final moment of truth.

Most of them don’t get it the first time. Like… Ainsey isn’t suddenly gonna understand that heroes don’t exist when we leave here. If she makes it to next year, and there’s another round of Rock camp,