by Aaron Denius
80
By
Aaron Denius
Copyright © 2021
Printed in The United States of America
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
ISBN: 9798505638217
Cover Design: Mousam Banerjee IG: @illus_station
IG/Twitter/TikTok: @aarondenius
For Forrest
CHAPTER I
I don't want to die.
My shoulders sting from being pulled above my head. My shoes struggle to stay on my feet as the heels drag against the ground. The world around me moves slow, much as it does when I'm in a battle against the outsiders. This is different, though—a different struggle.
I don't want to die.
My heartbeat echoes through my ears. I focus on the thumps as they pound inside my head. The beats grow faster, and my breathing matches the tempo. I look around and see two drones pulling me down a hallway by my arms. We pass a few people, but I can't see clear enough to tell whether they are drones, Genesys, or scientists. I try to make sense of the hallway to get my bearings. None of it looks familiar. My muscles tighten as adrenaline engulfs my body. I'm scared.
This is new. I don't like it. Fear is not something with which I am familiar. We drones were designed not to have it. Death was not supposed to scare us. But I'm scared. I don't want to die. I don't want to die.
“I don't want to die!” I scream out. I struggle to pull away, but before I get a chance to do anything, I’m thrown into a room. The door slams in my face.
I pound with my fists on the metal barrier, screaming until my throat feels like it's on fire. I know that it's all for nothing. They won't open the door until they are ready. Exhausted, I step back and take in my surroundings.
It's a small room—a bed in the center, little decor. One wall grabs my attention and holds it. It's covered in screens showing a live feed of different parts of the compound. The hallways, the medical ward, the bunkers that I call home, and many areas I’ve never seen before pollute my eyes. This compound must be enormous.
“Atom?” I step closer to the screens and see Atom pounding on the door of a tiny room, much smaller than the one I'm in. He's screaming, and even though I can't hear him, it's pretty evident that he's yelling, “Don't kill him.” I can only assume he's talking about me.
I pity Atom. If only he knew the burden he carries on his shoulders. He's powerful and courageous, but his empathy will make things difficult if he is to succeed at leading the Genesys after the Ragnarok and the end of the world.
The fear rises in me again. If Atom succeeds, I die. Everyone dies.
“Stop!” I push away from the wall, angry at myself. The bed hits me behind my knees, and I fall back. These aren't thoughts I should be having. If Dr. Anfang knew, he'd kill me immediately. I was created for one reason only: to protect Atom, Ev, and the other Genesys at all costs. To sacrifice myself to ensure they live. But why? Am I not as valuable? Is my life worth less than theirs? I deserve to live!
A small tickle on my cheek snaps me out of my head. My reflexes send my hand to my face, and my fingers wipe away the culprit. Tears. I'm crying. I'm not supposed to cry. I fight it, but the more I fight, the harder it fights back. My chest hurts. It feels like it's collapsing in on itself.
“80!” Grant opens the door, startling me.
I stand up and face him. “Yes, sir?”
“Sit down.” He points to the bed and pulls up a chair for himself. I sit back, wiping the remnants of the tears from my face. He stares at me for what feels like hours, not saying a word. I find it hard to keep eye contact, but I hold firm. It's unnerving.
“Please don't kill me.” The words escape my mouth before I can stifle them.
“We aren't going to kill you.” Grant states. “Atom cares a great deal about you. Killing you could have very dire consequences on his development.”
I'm relieved, even though I know that if it weren't for Atom, I'd already be dead. “So, what happens now?”
Grant is taken aback by my brash response. “That's what I'm trying to figure out. We can't keep you here and have you be more of a distraction. I have some ideas, but I need to run things by Dr. Anfang.”
I don't know how to respond. I can sense a hint of compassion in Grant's voice. I nod.
“You'll have to be placed in confinement. I'm not sure how long, but I'll try to make your stay there as brief as possible.” He stands and heads to the door.
As soon as Grant leaves, the two drones who dragged me here walk into the room. I recognize them now. 164 and 44. They are both excellent Breekbal players and have rooms in the same building as mine.
“Let's go,” 164 orders. I don't say a word as I follow them out of the room and down a series of hallways.
I can't believe I used to be one of them. If it weren't for the patch over my eye, all three of us would look identical: black hair, black eyes, pale skin. As much as we appear the same, they seem alien to me. I remember how I used to think before I met Atom. It was all so simple; there were no layers. I can't imagine there’s much going on in their heads. While I feel as though my brain won't shut off.
Atom opened my eyes to the world. Before, I was merely alive. Now, I am living, and I don't want to waste this new opportunity given to me.
44 turns to me when we get in. “Why haven't they killed you?”
His question throws me off. 164's look tells me he is just as surprised. I know that Atom is the reason, but I don't know what to say to them.
“I don't know,” is all I can muster. None of us seems satisfied with the answer.
We weave down a couple more hallways and reach a metal door. Standing in front of it is a man twice my size. He’s a scientist and looks familiar, but he turns before I get a good look at his face. He places his hand on the pad next to the door and speaks some words to get the panels to open. It’s an elevator, and if the man plans on joining us inside of it, we won’t have much room left to breathe.
The two drones walk me in, but the scientist stays behind. I get another look at him before the doors close, and flash to when I was taken to the medical ward to fix my eye. He was there.
The elevator hits its destination, and the doors open. The smell that greets me is stale, and it stings like I inhaled dust. The cold air causes my skin to bump up. As we walk down the corridor, I take in my surroundings. Cells are built into the rocks that form the foundation of the compound. Bars extend from the ground to the ceiling, separating what must be over one hundred cells. As far as I can tell, all the cells are empty.
164 and 44 lead me five cells down and open the cell door. I walk in, grateful to have this, especially knowing what the alternative could have been. The door slams hard behind me as I take inventory of my space. There is a stack of protein pouches in the back right corner. In the back left corner is a small toilet built into the wall. To my left is a mat that I can only assume is my bed. I turn and see the elevator doors close. I'm alone down here. The silence is so loud that it's haunting.
I grab a protein pouch and lie down on the mat. The taste is sweet, but my mouth yearns for more of the chicken I got myself and Atom from the outsiders. I take another mouthful of the protein pouch. My eyes feel heavy, and my body needs rest. I close my eyes, and the darkness comes.
A loud clang wakes me from my slumber. I sit up and look toward the elevator. I'm not sure how long I was asleep, but I still feel groggy. The elevator doors open, and two drones drag a body into the cell across from mine. They dump it on the ground as if it were trash. There is no compassion. They just do what
they are ordered to do. I see now why they call us drones. The pair don't even look at me as they head back to the elevator.
Once they are gone, I shift closer to the front of my cell. I get a better look at the mound of flesh and bones on the ground before me.
“Are you okay?” I break the silence.
The mound moves but does not respond. After a few moments, I lie back down on my mat and fall back to sleep.
The darkness is interrupted by flashes of white and color. The last flash wakes me up. I look around for the colors' source, but everything seems to be as it was when I lay down. It's dark and cold, and the body still lies in the middle of the cell across from me.
A whimper from the body draws my attention. I lean closer and can tell that the person is crying. My muscles clench at each whimper. I want to ease them of their pain.
“Are you okay?” I try again.
“I want to go home,” a muffled voice answers back.
“Where is home?” I pry.
The body sits up, and I finally get a good look at my neighbor. It's a girl, which I didn't expect. Her clothes are dirty and tattered. She's not from the compound. Her short, dark hair hangs in front of her face. Though caked in dirt, blood, and tears, her face screams innocence. I can't imagine her doing anything or hurting anyone to put her in a place like this. She is here because she is an outsider, and in the eyes of those who run this compound, that is a crime. It sickens me. What gave the scientists divine control?
“You're one of them.” The girl's words snap me out of my head. I must have been staring.
“One of who?” I ask.
“Those clones. The ones that captured me and brought me down here,” she replies. Her eyes study me hard.
“Yeah. Well, I used to be.” I don't feel like one anymore.
She moves to the front of her cell. Her face winces at the pain. “What do you mean you used to be? Why are you down here?”
“I was shot in the eye, so I can't do my job anymore.” I run my hand over my eye patch. It's funny how now that I see things with a new perspective, I only have one eye to do it with. “They were supposed to kill me as they do with every other useless drone, but Atom saved me.”
“Azazel!” she shouts. It startles me.
“What?” I retort.
“He's the devil! He's the reason we are all going to die!” The disdain in her face is physical, and the anger behind it makes my skin shiver.
“No. He's—please don't. He doesn't even know.” I stumble over my words.
Her anger recedes, and the pain returns. Her eyes spew out tears. “I just want to go home. I want to see my family.”
I sit back on my mat, unsure of what to say. Is there a way I can help her get back to her family? I can't imagine what she must be feeling. Before meeting Atom, I wouldn't even know how to define family. The other drones are not family. Work as one, care for none. That's how we are programmed. It's a sad existence. Atom helped me realize that there is more out there. More people, more experiences, more perspectives. He feels more like family than any of the drones ever have.
The girl's crying has stopped, and I can tell by the rhythm of her breaths that she's asleep. I lie back down on my mat and close my eyes. All I want to do down here is sleep. They must be pumping some kind of gas in here. It makes sense—if you are sleeping all the time, you can't cause any problems. The blackness comes hard.
I wake up, but the silence and the little light make me feel as though I'm still in the grasp of sleep. Propping myself up onto my elbows, I look over to the girl's cell. She's gone. My body betrays my mind, and I don't move as fast as I would like to the front of my cell. When I get there, the sound of the elevator doors opening pulls my attention. Two drones drag the girl by her arms.
“What did you do to her?” I yell in anger. Her body hangs lifeless. Whatever they are doing will kill her, if she's not already dead.
“Answer me!” I scream louder. The drones drop her body off in her cell and walk back to the elevator. My eyes search her body for signs of life.
“Traitor,” one of the drones shouts. When I look over, they are gone. Is that what they think of me now? That I'm a traitor? All because Dr. Anfang spared me. Because I was not allowed to die.
I don't care what they call me. I'm not one of them anymore. I'm not a drone who aimlessly follows orders with no purpose or sense of what life is and can be. Those hours with Atom outside of the compound's walls when we ran to the pyramid, heard the music, and tasted the chicken; they awoke me to what was outside the boundaries of my mind. My brain and thoughts were trapped in a darkened cell. Much as I am right now. In need of the light.
“What's your name?” Her soft voice crackles through the silence, pulling me out of my trance.
I get as close as my cell allows me. The girl's body lies on the ground, more beaten than when I last saw her. The little light that this dungeon has reflects off her eyes, and I can tell she is looking right at me. “80. What's yours?”
“Anna,” she sighs out. Her breathing has grown deep and long. “Do you think we will ever get out of here?”
The despair in her voice forces a pain in my chest. I don't know the answer to her question, so I lie. “Yes, and soon. You'll be able to see your family again. Tell me about them.”
She sniffles and speaks through her tears. “It's me, my sister, my mother, and my grandmother.”
“All women?” I ask.
“My father and brother were killed,” she answers with the pain of their loss still in her heart.
“How? By who?” I'm pretty sure I already know the answer.
“You all.” There is intense hatred in her voice.
My heart begins to share her hatred. It cries out for her. “I'm so sorry.”
“I just want to go home. My mother needs me. I have to help take care of my grandmother.” It amazes me how selfless her thoughts are when she is the one in need of help.
“I promise I will get you out of here.” I try to convince myself that I'm telling the truth.
She doesn't respond. My eyelids are feeling heavy again. I lie down on the ground at the edge of my cell and look at Anna. Her eyes are open, and they meet mine. She smiles, and I smile back. Her expression shows hope of leaving this dungeon, but her eyes know that it might not happen.
Our gazes stay locked on one another's. I fight hard to keep my eyes open, but the darkness of sleep wins again.
A light shines bright at the opposite end of the dungeon. I sit up, and the door to my cell is open. I look for the girl, but she is not there. Before I can look around more, I hear a faint chanting originating from the light. It’s my name: “80. 80.”
I run straight for the light. Faster and faster. I shield my eyes as my body crashes through the threshold of dark and light. When my eyes focus, I see my feet right on top of a ledge. Below me are thousands of drones, all looking up at me, chanting my name. Before I can make sense of the crowd below me, my feet slip, and I fall.
My eyes shoot open, and I flail my arms to stop myself from plummeting. The screams coming from my mouth jar me awake, and as I look around, I see that I am sitting in my cell. Right where I was before. What just happened? Where is the light? Was that real? I check my surroundings once more to confirm that I am still in my cell. Maybe Anna can explain what happened.
I walk to the edge of my cell, but like the last time I fell asleep, she is gone. I sit on the ground and wait. There isn't anything else for me to do, and I'm afraid that I will start to fall again if I close my eyes. The unwavering darkness and my ever-tiring brain make it hard to tell the difference between hours and minutes.
A sharp pain in my stomach makes me realize that I have not eaten since they brought me down here. I grab a couple of protein pouches and return to the same spot to wait for Anna and fight off sleep. The protein pouches cool my throat as I devour one right after the other. I must have eaten them too fast, because the energy in my body seems to have raced to my stomach to hel
p digest it. I lie down and keep my gaze in the direction of the elevators.
I'm not going to be able to fight off the darkness; it's too strong. But I also don't want to fall again. There is nothing in my cell to hold me down, so I wrap my arms around a couple of the bars and hold on tight. After testing my grip a few times, I feel secure enough to let myself fall asleep.
When I wake up, I see Grant standing over me. He pulls me to my feet. “Let's go!”
“What?” I'm out of sorts. I can't tell if this is real. My eyes dart around as Grant pushes me to the elevator. Anna's cell is still empty. “Where is the girl?”
There is no response from Grant. He pushes me toward the end of the dungeon. Reflexes get my legs in motion, because I am not moving them willingly. I look at him. “What did you do with her? Where is she?”
“Who?” Grant replies as we enter the elevator. I can see a slight hint of light peeking through the crack above my head.
“Anna!” I demand.
“She's dead,” he states, emotionless.
My heart drops, and my legs follow. The metal hits hard against my knees as I catch one last glimpse of what used to be Anna's cell. The doors shut. Tears roll down my cheeks. She should be home with her family. She didn't deserve this. No one does!
A pinch in my neck sends tingles through my body, and I fall to the ground.
“You'll be fine.” Grant kneels next to me. He's blurry, but I can tell that he’s holding a needle in his hand. With his other hand, he closes my eyes.
CHAPTER II
I wake up to my body shaking. As my eyes open, I notice that the ground is miles below me, and I panic. A strong hand grabs my shoulder and holds me down in my seat. I look back to see a large man at the other end of the hand. He looks familiar, but I'm not sure why.
“Relax 80,” he says with a very calm and deep voice. His eyes are kind and compassionate.
“Where am I?” My eyes dart around to make sense of my surroundings. I'm in one of the military Flyz, like the one that saved Atom and me from the building's roof. Next to the large man are two other scientists. Both women. One has a frame that rivals the man; the other is the exact opposite. Small in all ways possible, with darker skin and hair that looks like rope.