Lizzie entered the warehouse and headed toward the viewing screen that was set up to the side in a makeshift common area, scanning the rows of seats for Alex and his friend. She didn’t really know what she was doing here. But then again, that was the story of her life at the moment – nothing made sense anymore. These two guys at least had kind eyes; she felt like she could trust them.
She spotted them, but before she could approach, Alex turned around in his seat and saw her, his shapely dark eyes brightening with his wide smile. He motioned with a rippling forearm for her to come over, and Lizzie’s heart fluttered in a way it hadn’t in, well, she couldn’t even remember the last time.
They’d saved a seat for her in their row, his equally good-looking darker-skinned friend with the close-cropped hair smiling genially in greeting. What was his name again?
“Deion, scooch over a seat, will you?” Alex requested.
Deion. That was it.
After some quick musical chairs and a few knowing glances from Deion, they were seated, Lizzie at the end of the row, Alex next to her, and Deion to his other side.
Deion leaned over Alex and put his hand out. “Good to see you again, Lizzie.”
Lizzie shook his hand and smiled. “Thank you guys for inviting me.” She nodded toward the screen. “It’s been a while since I got to watch one of these.”
Alex and Deion looked confused, and she quickly realized her faux pas – everyone in Paragon watched the dramas.
Recovering, she added, “I was in the hospital.”
“Ohh,” Alex replied. “You were on the sorority/ghost show, right? Did you get injured in that bad accident on set?”
“Yeah,” Lizzie fibbed, thanking him in her head for the perfect cover story. “I had a pretty bad concussion. Long recovery.”
“Scary,” Alex sympathized. “Glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks,” Lizzie murmured, feeling bad about lying to them. “Did you work on that set too?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I did actually,” Alex beamed. “But mainly on the ghost character’s set.”
Before he could elaborate, though, the screen came to life and the opening music began to play. Everyone quieted and stared at the screen, rapt.
She leaned in toward Alex, the butterflies in her stomach twirling at their close proximity. “So, what did I miss?” she whispered.
The scene opened on what looked like a military base.
“This one is a little different,” Alex explained quietly. “It’s supposed to take place in Paragon.”
Ah, that street corner did look familiar, Lizzie thought.
“Earlier in the season some rebel group who’s trying to take over the compound escaped on this crazy train –”
Lizzie cocked her head expectantly.
“– but the military tracked them to their new base –”
Lizzie’s stomach dropped as he motioned to the wall of the set where some photos hung – photos that looked strikingly like Raptor Defense Systems.
“– to keep an eye on things, and then there was this huge explosion, they think an accident of some sort, and the rebels were pretty much wiped out. See? And now –”
But Lizzie couldn’t hear whatever Alex said next over the buzzing in her own ears. She watched in disbelief as the scene panned over an aerial view of what was once the Raptor complex – now only a gaping crater in the ground – and she could feel the bile rising in her gullet.
She felt a hand rest tentatively on her knee, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the screen.
“Hey, are you okay?” Alex whispered.
Acid bit the back of her throat, and she shook her head. Dashing from her seat, she made it out the back door just in time for the contents of her guts to spill onto the pavement with a splatter.
Gasping, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a cold sweat dripping from her brow. How could they do this?
She heard a throat clear behind her, and spun around to find Alex standing in the doorway, concern lining his features. “Uhh, anything I can get you?” he stammered.
Lizzie just sighed and collapsed against the nearby dumpster, her legs too weak to hold the weight of all this deception for a second longer. She shook her head and let it fall back against the metal siding with a thump.
Alex gingerly stepped around the mess she’d made on the ground and sat down next to her.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She looked up at him and she knew she shouldn’t. She knew she would only be putting him in danger. She knew it was selfish.
But she just couldn’t hold it in any longer. She couldn’t stand to feel this alone.
And it all came pouring out – about the stitching and the dramas, and the rebels and the Engineers, the virus and the algorithm, the doomed babies and the one immune girl, and how everyone she ever cared about was dead and she was starting to suspect that it was all her fault.
To his credit, Alex listened intently, and waited until she had exhausted herself to comment.
“Whoa,” was all he said. “Whoa.”
They sat in silence for a long time, and she could practically see the gears turning in Alex’s head. After a while, something like recognition seemed to register on his face, and he also let his head fall back against the dumpster with a thump.
“Well, that makes a lot more sense,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
“What does?” Lizzie asked.
“All of it. Whatever they’ve been doing to the food. This insane monster thing we found running around your old set. Why we can never seem to get any answers about anything. Just, all of it. Wow.”
“I think I’ve made a big mistake,” Lizzie admitted. “I don’t think I should ever have trusted the Engineers.”
“Why did you?” Alex gaped, not with judgment but just wonder. “How?”
Lizzie shook her head. In this moment, seeing how they had exploited the deaths of her friends and all those citizens of Paragon they supposedly cared so much about, she couldn’t quite figure it herself. Something wasn’t adding up, even in her own head. How was the question. How had she been so convinced she was doing the right thing?
“I don’t know,” Lizzie answered truthfully, her voice barely a whisper.
Alex hesitated a moment, then reached down and squeezed her hand.
And her heart burned with conviction. “But I’m going to find out.”