R.J. Vickers - The Natural Order

Copyright 2015 R.J. Vickers

All rights reserved.

Cover by Maduranga

Cover art by Amber Elizabeth Lamoreaux

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This book is dedicated to Lindy and Kayla,

who never lost faith.

Thank you to everyone who has read my books over the years and provided me with encouragement and astute critiques. I would not be here without you.

And thank you very much to Amber Elizabeth Lamoreaux for allowing me the chance to use her beautiful artwork for the cover.

A s the disciplinary officer locked the gates of Cass Detention Center, dread settled over Tristan. The officers shoes clicked on the tiles of the endless hallways, fluorescent lights blaring overhead, while Tristan hurried after, pressing his hair over the scars that had turned the left side of his face to mince.

Each step took him farther from the freedom he had glimpsed so fleetingly. His three-year sentence stretched longer than everhe was fifteen now; by the time he left, his peers would have earned their drivers licenses, graduated from high school, and headed off to glamorous colleges around the country.

Im sure you can find your way from here, the disciplinary officer said, cutting through Tristans thoughts.

Tristan nodded and trudged off toward his cell.

Just before he reached the door, five hulking delinquents sauntered down the hall, blocking his escape in both directions.

Tristans stomach dropped.

It was Cob and his gang, the same bullies who had mercilessly harassed Tristan for his first month at Juvie.

How come you get special privileges, huh? Cob demanded.

Can I pass? Tristan asked dully. He knew where this was going.

Cobs lip curled. When Tristan tried to retreat a step, Cob lunged at him and grabbed him by the collar of his jumpsuit.

Tristan scrabbled at Cobs arm, but he was no match for the bully, who loomed a head taller than him.

Cob yanked Tristan toward him so fiercely Tristan gasped for breath. Youve got influence with some higher-up. I need you to use it to get this mailed from outside. He thrust a padded envelope, fashioned from what looked like taped-together paper from one of his classes, into Tristans hands.

When Cob released him, Tristans airway felt permanently crushed; he massaged his throat, struggling to draw breath.

I wont do your dirty work, he wheezed. What are you trying to do, order drugs or something?

He shouldnt have said it. But after standing before his brothers grave and reliving the awful night that had landed him in Juvie, he was feeling reckless. Ready for a fight.

Cob laughed nastily. Ooh, so he does have a spine. Thisll be interesting.

His gang chuckled.

What do we need to do to persuade you? We could frame you for stealing the lunch ladys jewelry, but that wouldnt be much fun. What if we set a whole box of rats loose in your room?

Leave me alone, Tristan snapped. Im not getting in trouble for you. Besides, I dont think Ill be allowed out again.

I dont believe you. Cob made a grab for Tristans arm, but Tristan jumped out of the way just in time.

Help! Tristan yelled, hoping someone was around to hear. It would get him in major trouble with Cobs gang later, but he should be transferred soon anyway. He just had to survive long enough to get out of this hellhole.

Cobs gang closed in around him.

When Tristan opened his breath to shout again, Cobs largest crony tackled him to the ground.

Tristan landed heavily on his hip. Pain shot through his leg, but he swallowed his yelp.

Wuss, Cob spat. Youre just asking for trouble. Cmonlets teach this privileged little asshole what happens when people mess with me.

With practiced speed, two of Cobs cronies pinned Tristan to the wall by his arms, while the other three started punching every inch of him.

Fear and rage clouded Tristans vision. He strained to pull his arms free, but to no avail. Several times he managed to kick his assailants in the knees, but they hardly seemed to notice.

Go on, you can do better than that, Cob taunted. He landed a punch in Tristans stomach, winding him.

As Tristan doubled over, Cobs cronies released him, and he crumpled to the floor. His ribs were on firehe curled around his chest, making a strange choking noise that didnt seem to belong to him.

No one was coming to his rescue.

Now Cobs gang was kicking him, each blow lancing though him like a hammer strike.

Fury mounted as Tristan took the beating, his body coiling tighter with every kick. If he were stronger, he would kill Cob. He wanted to break his nose, to smash his skull. To make the bullies suffer as much as he had at their hands.

Rage blinded him, numbing the pain.

He couldnt take it any longer.

With a roar, Tristan surged to his feet.

Cobs gang was momentarily thrown back, but they closed in on him once more.

Punch me, Cob taunted. I dare you. He looked delighted by Tristans show of temper.

Tristan raised his arms to block another blow as it came his way.

I thought so. Youre nothing but a crybaby.

Though he had no chance against Cobthough he had more reason than ever to keep his head down and stay out of troubleTristan could hold back no longer.

He threw himself at Cob.

The older boy was as solid as a wall, but something strange happened. Tristan felt an odd rush, as dizzying as vertigo, and the next thing he knew, Cob went flying.

He hit the wall with a crack and slumped, unconscious, to the tiles. A line of blood trickled from one nostril.

Horror lodged itself in Tristans throat; he staggered back a step until his back collided with the wall.

What had he done?

Hurried footsteps clicked down the hall, and a pair of guards burst onto the scene.

Who did this? the first guard bellowed, pushing one of Cobs cronies out of the way.

As one, Cobs gang pointed at Tristan.

Im sorry, Tristan said in a rush. I didnt mean to do anything. They were beating me up, and I

Seizing Tristan by the upper arm, the first guard marched him away from Cobs unconscious form. The second knelt beside Cob and said, Someone fetch a nurse.

Neither guard seemed to notice the bruises that were blooming on Tristans neck.

Near the entrance to the detention center, Tristan was dragged into a sterile office where a disciplinary officer sat riffling through paperwork.

What now? he asked sharply. Isnt that the kid who was just granted visitation privileges?

The guard shrugged. There was an unconscious kid, and a few witnesses said this one did it. Looked like there was a fight.

Thank you.

Once the guard was gone, the disciplinary officer laced his fingers together and studied Tristan with a grim expression. You do realize this is a serious offence, dont you? This sort of behavior can result in a longer sentence.

They started it, Tristan said desperately. It was an unspoken rule that you did not rat out the bullies, but even if he said nothing, they would make his life hell after this. They were beating me up, and I just tried to defend myself.