by Amy Johnson
We walk through the damp, dark tunnels with ease. Linux follows behind me silently. The long stretch ends, depositing us in the meeting place.
The room lies empty before us, stained with the blood of the Luddites who died here. Linux clamps a hand over his mouth. His face turns pale green, and he hurries to the other side of the room.
Instead of following, I walk behind the Elders’ chairs and kneel down behind the largest of the five.
The rolled up, dirty map sits under Emory’s chair.
“What’s that?” Linux asks through his hand as I approach him.
“A map. The Elders made it. It has both the tunnels and the city traced out.”
“Where are we going, Eden?”
I walk ahead of him, thinking instead of answering.
We can’t stay here. Knox compromised our position. Above ground proves to be our only option.
A conversation rushes back to me between Knox and Emory.
“Eden,” Linux prods as the sleeping area entrance comes around the corner. “Where are we going?”
“To the edge of the map,” I whisper, stepping out into the doorway.
“But there’s nothing out there,” he hisses into my ear.
The room drops silent at the sight of me. Humans kneel and stand around the perimeter, wearing bags made of knotted up blankets strapped over their shoulders. They carry sacks of clothes and food. No one has a gun. The machines must’ve taken them.
Their faces hold fear and apprehension, uncertainty and curiosity. Only two people in the entire room are older than twenty-five. The youngest looks barely five.
How in the world has this motley band of young adults, teens, and children made it this far?
By sticking together, always having each other’s back, and trusting the morality of humans.
“Why are you still here?” I snap at Knox.
He throws his hands up in the air.
“I was just making sure you made it here before I left.”
“Well, I’m here. You can go.”
He nods and moves around the crowd to the entrance. A hurt look crosses his face, which I assume is from my short tone. I can’t stand to even look at him. The fact that he let Cyrus come back to me burns like an iron brand in my chest. The sooner he leaves, the better.
Mixed emotions flow through me.
Do I want him to be safe as well, or do I want him to hurt? I would have never made it this far without him. From the very beginning, he was irreplaceable. Until his betrayal, I trusted him with everything.
After our assemblies, he saved my life. Eins could have stopped me. It wouldn’t have been challenging. Yet, Knox made the decision to stay with me and to help me, even when there was nothing in it for him.
Yet, somehow, he let Cyrus return to me when he knew what I was facing.
I call after him, and Knox turns back around with one hand lingering on the rock face.
“Come after us,” I say, “and I’ll kill you.”
He nods, lowering his gaze. I hold the secret of how to kill him deep in my mind. That knowledge is mine to keep and hold above his head as high as I wish.
“I won’t come after you, Eden. I promise.”
His words send jolts of pain through my chest. No more singing. No more lessons on what it means to be human. No more of his multi-colored eyes gazing at me in admiration. No more rushed kisses.
Yet, there will be no more betrayal, either. That softens the pain by a notch.
“Knox,” I whisper, taking a step towards him. He glances up at me. “Be safe. Watch out for Eins and Zwei.”
He nods.
“You too, angel,” he whispers back.
With one final sigh, Knox leaves.
Linux reaches out for my hand, and his presence fills the gaping hole left behind.
“You didn’t answer me,” Linux says in an effort to disperse the emotion hanging in the room like a golden chandelier. “There’s nothing out there, Eden.”
“You’re right,” I whisper back. “Nothing but soft rains.”
My final mission begins here.
About The Author
Amy Johnson
Amy Johnson is the author of science fiction young adult novels. For more information, visit her website: ajohnsonwrites.com