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“I think that’s her,” Tim said.
The three of us crowded around Tim’s tablet as Lance strapped his sword to his belt. I finished fastening the vine straps around my arms, and then peered at Tim’s tablet.
Breaking out of our prison had been surprisingly easy. Tim overloaded the agents’ headsets with a high pitched squeal, then digitally unlocked the door. We ran three doors down to where our weapons were, and with Tim’s techno sight, we managed to get inside without a problem.
Now the tablet’s screen was locked on a black and white security feed. An elderly woman sat at the end of a long table, her wrists strapped to a chair.
The Coalition’s symbol came to mind. The lady being tortured; defiant to the end.
I swallowed a gulp, keeping clear of the metal door in case anyone came in. “We should try to help.”
“What if it isn’t Gwen?” Lance asked.
“She’s being tortured.”
“And her profile matches.” Tim showed us a picture of Gwen on his tablet, then switched to the corridor view. Two guards ran toward our door, and they weren’t wearing visors. Tim wouldn’t be able to use techno sight to distract them, but Lance had his sword and I had my vines. So long as we acted quickly, we’d be all right.
As for Gwen, she was a few rooms past this one, so getting there would be relatively easy. Inside her room, though, was a lady in long robes. She kept her back to the camera as she paced behind her captive.
“Where do we go from here?” I pointed to the tablet.
Tim opened a map and ran his finger along our most likely path. There were only a couple other guards on the preferred route, and neither were Special Forces.
“Anyone else think this looks too easy?” Lance asked.
Tim lowered his tablet. “We’re in an enemy facility, exhausted, and dehydrated. Once we get out, we have to hope Inese got our message. Otherwise we’re stuck in the jungle with Special Forces on our heels.”
“Still seem easy?” I raised an eyebrow at Lance.
“Point taken.” Lance stepped against the wall, his sword at ready.
Tim waited until the guards were almost on us, then gave the signal. Lance charged out, flashing his sword to the only exposed part of their bodies. One guard blocked with her rifle, but I curled my vine around the second one’s gun and sent it skittering down the hall.
Lance struck that guard with the pommel of his sword. The guard dropped, unconscious. Tim fired at the other. He hit him square in the chest.
A short, empty corridor opened on our right, and I ran. “Come on!”
Muffled sounds echoed from the far-off hallway, and the white walls blurred into streaks. My muscles burned, but with the adrenaline, I didn’t care.
“Jenna!” Lance shouted.
My breath caught in my throat.
My speed—I’d left Lance and Tim behind.
At the far end of the corridor, Tim scrambled to aim his weapon. A lanky beast with overly long arms and legs sprinted around the corner. Tim shrieked, changing direction and firing without regard to anyone around him. One bullet hit the beastie in the arm, while the other ricocheted beside Lance. Lance ducked before striking a beast in its stomach.
Cold, paralyzing fear rushed through me. The halls were supposed to be empty!
Something slammed into me. I spun and smashed the butt of the spear into a soft, fleshy body. The creature snarled, righting itself.
No-no! I should’ve been helping them, not fighting alone! We were supposed to stick together!
I maneuvered the spear between the pacing beast and myself. Electricity crackled at the spear’s tip. I didn’t want to hurt the creature. It wasn’t its fault it was instructed to attack me, but what choice did I have except to defend myself?
It circled me like a cat, then lunged. I swung the spear, faster with my power, then brought the electrified end along its back. It howled, and rather than attacking me again, it slunk away, hissing and showing its fangs. A bruised burn mark scored its lower back.
I stayed against the wall, keeping the wounded creature in the corner of my vision.
A moan twisted from behind the door of the interrogation room. I shivered. The beast crouched. An unrestrained scream blasted through the door. The beastie squealed and dashed down the hall, not bothering to stop at the skirmish ahead.
What in the Community was that? Nothing I’d ever heard sounded so painful.
I rattled the doorknob. No answer.
There was a keypad next to the door. I didn’t know the code, but since it was digital, I positioned my spear at the keypad and then jammed its tip against the screen. Electricity popped. The keypad sparked and the lock clicked.
Success!
I pushed the door open.
Inside, a lady wearing a flowing, deep purple robe stood at the end of a long metal table. Her robes were fringed by golden swirls and thick, bold lining. Part of her white hair was rolled into an elaborate bun; the rest cascaded to her shoulders.
Except for the strange attire, she looked exactly like Lady Winters.
The lady’s eyes narrowed and her face contorted, twisting into a mass of wrinkles. She wore just enough eyeliner to accentuate her fierce eyes, and her nails were painted a gold that matched her outfit. More than most leaders, she was dressed for appearance; a stark contrast to the Lady Winters I knew.
Beside her, an elderly woman with graying hair was bound to the chair. Her shoulders were slumped and her head lolled back.
Go away.
I jumped, then stared at the Lady Winters imposter. I hadn’t heard anything, but it was clear that the woman standing with her manicured hand on the corner of Gwen’s chair had spoken. She lifted her chin and scowled.
“Let her go.” I tightened my grip on my spear.
The woman smirked and slid her nail along the edge of the chair. Something forced me—my mind—away.
I couldn’t move. My arms were frozen in place.
If you won’t leave, then let us see who you might be.
I sat in my house, watching the videos I’d seen of Lady Winters playing on my parents’ television set. “In order to ensure that all Community citizens have jobs,” she declared, her proper accent shining through each syllable, “each student shall take a qualifications test to determine their best placement in our workforce.
“On another note, it is my great pleasure to announce an upgrade to our laboratories, allowing for a more efficient means of studying the cause of theophrenia so that we might one day be free of the plague entirely.”
My favorite speech. The one that meant I might not have to keep taking the stupid pill.
You didn’t take the pill? You rebellious child.
I stood in the bathroom, confused, staring at my pill bottle. I’d missed yesterday’s pill, but no one had noticed. No one had asked. I felt so... alive. I couldn’t go back to taking it now.
“Jenna?” Mom called.
I stared at the door. What if Mom found out? She would insist that I go to counseling, or at least give me a lecture. I turned to the toilet, fumbling with the pill and the bottle.
“Jenna Nicole Nickleson, for the love of efficiency, you’re going to be late!”
I capped the bottle. The Health Scan was almost a year away. I’d be fine.
I dropped the pill in the toilet.
Nickleson. Ah, yes. I remember that name. Any relation to Dr. Nickolai Nickleson?
The room wavered and I fell against the edge of the table, grabbing the chair to right myself. Lady Winters watched me, wrinkles tarnishing her coy smile. “I’ll give you a chance, Nickleson.”
I stared at her. Chance at what?
She’d seen my thoughts, my past...
Lady Winters smiled and brushed back a wisp of white hair. Drop the spear. Close the door behind you. Take a seat. She gestured to the chair in a slow, elegant motion.
I dropped the spear, took a seat. Listened.
“Do you know who your grandfather serves?”
The Coalition.
Lady Winters clasped her hands in front of her. “What about you, Nickleson? Whom do you serve?”
I... didn’t know. I was from the Community...
A slow smile crawled across her cheeks. She gestured to the lady in the chair. “The true plague is disobedience. It makes our society inefficient. This woman is a traitor. She spreads the plague by her presence. She’s a lost cause. Kill her.”
I stood, vines uncoiling from my arms, and walked the length of the table. Power pulsed through my vines, urging me to take control. To let them flourish. To use them.
The traitor turned her head, her eyes half-shut.
“She’s the true monster,” Lady Winters murmured. “A beast is nothing more than a subhuman servant, and they serve us well. A rebel, however, is a threat to everything we hold dear.”
I wrapped my vines around the woman’s throat. Felt their pressure against her skin. Closed them tight. The woman coughed, gasping, but I didn’t let go.
Funny thing, Nickleson, Lady Winters whispered in my head. Do you ever wonder how a beast feels when it’s given orders? Is this what you want?
I stared at the dying woman, confused. What did I want?
A beast is such a mindless thing. You could be so much more.
Gwen sputtered and fell limp. Her head lolled. A chill clawed through my spine.
She was dead.
I’d killed her.
