Opening his eyes, Alexander gingerly sat up on the sofa. His back didn't hurt nearly as much as it had, but he still winced as his bruised and battered muscles let him know they weren't healed. He saw the teen named Dwayne, asleep in a large armchair, his head drooped forward. Muffled snoring came through the wall, that was probably Samantha. He felt Dela deeply asleep in his head.

Hissing in pain, he got to his feet and went to a small alter in the corner of the room. There were several statues on the dusty alter, one of them was probably the Virgin Mary, with an Asiatic look. He didn't know who the other statues represented, but the way they were all holding crosses, made it clear the people who'd set it up had been Roman Catholic.

Going to the kitchen, cans of food and bottles of water were set out on the table, alongside a pile of silverware, a can opener, and a pack of ancient looking wet wipes. The labels were a mix of English, Spanish and a language he couldn't read. The curved looping symbols could be something from Southeast Asia, it definitely wasn't Chinese or Japanese.

A note read, 'TAKE ONLY 1 WATER, 1 CAN. NEED TO MAKE IT LAST.'

Wiping his hands off as best he could, Alexander got a can of sardines in tomato sauce since it was the biggest, and a water bottle. Taking a bite of the fish, he grimaced in disgust. He liked sardines, the cold tomato sauce left a lot to be desired. Swallowing the bite, he forced himself to take another. The note was right, they couldn't waste food, and his growling stomach demanded food.

Quickly finishing his meal, hoping that by eating it faster, it would somehow not taste as bad, he set the can aside and wondered what to do next.

A hallway door opened and Samantha came out. She looked terrible, her bruises had swollen up, distorting her face, and bits of dried blood still covered her face. The hero had managed to find clothes, a pink dress that looked too small, hugging her hips and thighs, with a mans white t-shirt thrown over top that was stretched tight over her breasts. She was only average height, but she was very solidly built. Overall she looked more like a homeless girl who had gone dumpster diving at a thrift store than a Cadet Warden.

“Glad you're awake,” she said. “You took a big hit there.”

“I'd rather be asleep,” he replied.

“How's your back?”

“Sore, but getting better.”

She walked up to him. “Turn around. I want to check it out, I have training in first aid. There's not much to work with, but I need to see if you have broken ribs or internal injuries.”

Turning to lean on a counter, he jerked at her gentle touch.

“Take a deep breath, and let it out slowly,” she said.

He breathed in deeply, held it for a moment and then slowly breathed out. It hurt a little, but compared to the haze of pain that covered his entire body, it was more than bearable.

“Any pain?”

“Nothing major.”

“What's your name?”

“Alexander Pechman.”

“When were you born?”

“March 3rd, 2006.”

“Hometown?”

“Woodpine, Michigan.”

As she questioned him, her fingers ran over his back. Tracing out the bruises, gently pressing a few points, making him hiss or grunt in pain.

“Do you feel light headed or dizzy?”

“No, just a headache from slamming into a wall.”

He heard her back off, and turned around to face her. “So what's the verdict, will I live?”

She nodded. “You'll want to avoid fighting for a while, or using your back, but there doesn't seem to be a concussion, broken bones or internal bleeding. Do you have any regeneration?”

“Kind of,” he admitted. “When Dela or I are not using our body, we heal a little faster than normal, and recover more quickly. The doctors think it's because our body has nothing else to do except fix itself.”

“Interesting. So, you're project Gemini, I've read about you in some of my training classes. Never thought I'd meet you.”

He shuddered, instinctively closing his eyes. Forcing himself to breath normally, he opened his eyes looking around the room. There was a beige clock, a brown chair, a blue cupboard, black hair, and a white fridge. The feeling of terror faded away.

“Yeah. Dela told you?”

Samantha nodded. “Not directly, but no one else would refer to themselves as a biological AI.”

His hand curled into a fist as he ground his teeth. “God, she's an idiot.”

“She does stuff like this a lot?”

“She's like a little kid. Ever since she was able to manifest she's does whatever she wants without thinking and I have to clean up the mess. It's all about having fun with her.”

“Is she dangerous?”

Alexander shook his head. “No. She'll do things without thinking, or to piss me off if she thinks I deserve it, but she wouldn't hurt anyone. At least not intentionally, and the worst thing that would happen are some hurt feelings. She's harmless, preferring to run away when things get tough.”

Sitting down Samantha closed her good eye, clearly thinking about what he'd said. “She put up a pretty good fight to stay with us.”

“What?”

“When we found out, I was ready to leave her, and you, behind. She guilt tripped Dwayne and I into keeping you both with us.”

Taking a seat across from her, he rested his elbows on the table, looking her in the eyes. “That's... interesting,” he finally said.

She didn't look away, her green eye stayed on his. “I wanted you to hear it from me first. Dwayne and I ended up here somehow, and we still don't know how. We didn't know you, and those other kids, came here the same way. I overreacted when I found out who she was, thinking you had both done something to deserve ending up here. While you were asleep, Dwayne and I talked things over, and it's clear the Wardens wouldn't send kids with basic powers to The Oubliette.”

“So you want us to stick around?”

“Yes. You both have powers that could be useful, you personally saved my dumb ass, and Dwayne talked with Dela while we looked around. He thinks she's a good kid, and she was willing to help out. If we want to survive here, we will need every advantage we have. The more of us there are, the more options we have, and you and Dela are an interesting mix that no one will expect.” She sighed deeply, and gave him a lopsided smile. “Of course I'm going to have to apologize to Dela. I hate apologizing, especially when it's because I've been an idiot.”

He returned the smile. “Yeah, that's going to suck. When I said she's like a child, I meant it. She might forgive you right away or hold a grudge for a long time.”

“Great. If I can find her some chocolate it will help?”

“Probably. So partner, what's the plan?” he asked.

“Sit here for a while and recover. You and I are both too beat up to risk heading out. We've got enough water and food to last a week. That will give my nanites time to get rid of the worst injuries, and your own healing trick should have you moving around nicely by then. Then we can head out with two water bottles each and a few cans of food.”

“Shouldn't we stay here? The Wardens will be looking for you, if we stay in one spot it will be easier for them to rescue us.”

Shaking her head, Samantha waved her arm at the room. “The tracking system in The Oubliette isn't as stable as the PR side claims. It works great in larger areas where we regularly watch the prisoners, the tunnel has been created and stabilized over time. But in smaller, more desolate areas, there's no need to watch them closely. So it requires a lot of energy to push a camera feed through, and the image is crap. No one has ever been here, or they passed through without grabbing anything, even if they get a camera in here they'll barely make out anything.”

“So when the food and water is gone, we're screwed?”

“Yep,” she confirmed. “The Wardens regularly provide food, water and some supplies to areas with a population, but tiny places like this, it would be a waste of resources.”

“At least you don't have your Warden uniform anymore. We'll be a little safer,” he said, trying to look on the bright side.

Her hand tugged on her collar. “Yeah,” she said softly. “We'll need to make some new clothes. There really isn't anything here that will fit us.”

Alexander allowed himself to genuinely smile. “We're in luck. Dela's a wannabe fashionista.”

**

Dela was sitting at the table, a pile of clothes spread out before her, happily clipping away while humming to herself. Dwayne was at the counter measuring out pieces of fabric, marking them with a marker.

“You really like this?” Flamer asked. She was sitting off to the side carefully sewing some denim together that would hopefully become a pair of jeans that actually fit her.

“Yeah,” the girl chirped. “Alexander doesn't like wearing interesting clothing, and I don't have much of a wardrobe, since I only got a body recently. The most I could do for the longest time was watch clothes video on the net and practice sewing doll clothes, when it was my turn to come out. And even then Alexander would complain about it being girly. I'm actually a little surprised you both know how to sew so well.”

She bit back a laugh. “Dwayne and I aren't very good at sewing. We just learned enough to replace buttons, sew on new tags, and mend holes in our training uniforms.”

“Well it's really helpful now. If I had to do all of this by myself, we'd need more than a week. I just wish I could fix up my outfit better,” the girl said, holding up the black suit she and Alexander wore. The back of it had been stitched up with some fishing line, and a lot of spandex. It was baggy on Dela, and a little tight on Alexander, but it meant they didn't have to change clothes when they switched bodies.

“I you've done the best you can. Without the special fabric, there isn't much else you can do,” Dwayne said.

“Yeah, I know. It still sucks.” Her eyes went wide. “Oh Alexander is awake.”

Flamer happily put down her sewing. “OK, time to train,” she said, heading for the living room.

They'd pushed most of the furniture to the side, leaving plenty of room to exercise and spar. If they were going to survive, they needed Dela and Alexander to be capable fighters. Since Alexander was still recovering from his injuries, Dela was learning the moves, while he watched and felt how her body move.

Taking a basic fighting stance, she watched as Dela did the same. “Bend your knees more. You don't want to stand like a tree,” she said.

The smaller girl did as she was told.

“Give me a jab.”

Dela punched her hand with surprising force, making her smile. The girl was a quick learner, and really fast.

“Good. Now try to hit me.”

“But you're hurt,” Dela said.

The girl was right. She was still bruised up, but the worst had healed up nicely, even her left eye was back to it's normal size, just a horrible greenish colour remained. The nanites the Wardens had pumped her full of had done their job nicely.

“Doesn't matter. Punching a hand is one thing, punching a person is another. I need you to learn if we're going to survive out there.”

Biting her lip, Dela ground her toe into the floor, then threw a slow punch at Flamers stomach.

Stepping to the side, Flamer easily dodged the punch. Her own hand lashed out, lightly slapping the girls cheek. “Come on, I'd expect a punch like that from my six year old sister. Punch me.”

The next jab was faster, but still weak and just thrown in her general direction. Again she reached out and slapped the girls other cheek, grinning evilly as she did.

Dela's cheeks were red, mostly from embarrassment.

“You can jump and climb like a monkey, girl. You should be able to hit me and make me feel it. Stop pissing around and hit me.”

The next punch, going for her head this time, wasn't any better.

Ducking under the blow, she flicked Dela's nose, and began laughing at her. She had to make the girl stop being afraid of hurting someone. There were plenty of ways to do it, but one of the faster methods was to get her angry.

The next minute went much the same, Dela tried to hit her, and Flamer easily avoided it, gently striking back in embarrassing ways. The girl was getting angrier, clenching her jaw, getting more focused and starting to strike back with increasing speed.

Flamer dodged another punch, far too easily, and moved in to slap the girls ear. She saw Dela shift, and tried to move, but there was no time. A knee hammered into her hip like a sledgehammer. Already off balance, the heavy blow knocked her feet out from under her. She hit the floor hard, protecting her head with her arm.

“OH GOD! I'm sorry!” Dela cried.

Grinning, she looked up at the girl. “Don't apologize, I want you to try that again,” Flamer said, standing up and getting back into position. The girl was finally showing her potential.

___

The Oubliette will be updated every second Friday. My other story Necromancer Unmanned, will be updated every second Monday, and Doom Valley Prep School will be updated once a week alternating between Monday and Friday.

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