by Aaron Denius
KJ smiles but pulls her hand away. “Did they follow you?”
I'm confused by the mixed messages she's sending me. She seems anxious. “Are you okay?”
“They are attacking the bunker.” KJ looks at me, hoping for something to calm her nerves.
“What? What do you mean? Who?” I'm confused, and KJ's changing emotions aren't helping.
“We. Well, they. The people of the city. After you came to have dinner and told us everything about what was going on, my mother started talking to people.” Her knees get weak, and she sits on the ground. She looks like she hasn't eaten or slept in days. “I didn't know. I tried to stop her. I didn't know.”
I sit down beside her and wrap my arms around her. “It's okay. Just tell me what's going on. What happened?”
She leans her head on my shoulder, finding comfort in my embrace. “I found out a few days ago. My mom started talking to a lot of the more able-bodied people, letting them know about what you told her. She told them about the compound in Egypt and about what the scientists were planning to do. They gathered some more people, collected weapons, and are planning to overrun the stadium to sabotage the bunker.”
I look her in the eye. “They can't do that.”
“They have to try,” she yells at me, pushing me away.
“I mean, they won't succeed. There are hundreds of drones. They have a full arsenal of weapons with more power than anything your mom and her friends have. We have to tell her to stop,” I plead with her as I stand. I reach my hand to her to help her up.
She rises without taking my hand. “It's too late.”
“What do you mean?” I pry. “When are they planning the attack?”
“I tried to tell you sooner, but you never came.” The tears that roll down her face are pure pain.
“KJ, when are they planning the attack?” I ask again as I grab her arm.
“Tonight.” She wipes the tears from her face and looks me in the eye. “Now.”
CHAPTER XI
I stare at KJ. How did I miss this? How did we miss this? The drones will slaughter the outsiders. They could capture KJ's mom; the drones could kill her. They'd ask where she got her information, and there's no reason to protect me. She'd tell them it was me. She could ruin the whole operation.
“We need to stop them!” I shout.
KJ looks at me, dejected. “How?”
“I don't know.” I really don't. “You run back home. See if you can find your mom. Talk to her. Tell her what I told you about the weapons that they have at the stadium.”
“What are you going to do?” she asks, taking my hand with care. It's the first time I've felt her genuine warmth toward me since I got here.
I kiss her and pull her into my arms. Her hair caresses my cheek. I know that when I let go, I have to run. “I'm going to try to stop them from killing themselves.”
The second I pull away, I don't look back; I just run. The clouds have gotten lower to form a fog around the city again. I pass a few outsiders as I sprint, hoping that they are at the front of the line, but the sounds I hear coming from the stadium tell me that they are stragglers.
Screams and gunshots echo off the buildings. The battle has started. Soon, I pass some of the more sensible outsiders that have stayed back to save themselves but offer moral support. I rush over to a group of three, all much older.
“Where can I find Martha?” I shout at the group, hoping that KJ's mom is not with those already fighting. They startle and scatter away. I chase after the slowest one and catch him.
“Please don't kill me,” he stammers out.
I'm shocked. I wouldn't even consider it. “I won't. I promise. I need to find Martha.”
He points in the direction of the loudest sounds, right at the stadium. “She's at the front.”
I let go of him. “Try to get as many of your people to fall back as possible. They don't stand a chance.”
He salutes me and heads off in the opposite direction of where I'm headed. Every outsider I pass, I order to fall back. Most oblige, but some continue to push their fight forward. After a few more yards, I start seeing dozens of injured and dead outsiders. It appears as though they were dragged to this location from the fight. This is much different from what they taught us as drones. The scientists told us to leave the dead and injured where they lay until we won the battle. This is much more humane.
The few moans of pain I hear are faint compared to the yelling and the guns' amplified sound. I tiptoe around the bodies, trying to respect them as much as I can. My heart aches for the unnecessary loss of life. This is my fault. I should have never said anything to KJ's mom.
I'm about to clear the bodies when a hand grabs my ankle. My heart jumps in my throat, and my stomach feels exposed. I scream with fear and kick my foot loose. When I look down, the hand grasping at me belongs to a bloodied body clinging to her last breaths of life. She lies in a pool of her own draining life. Maybe a minute left, if she is lucky.
Her hand continues grasping for me, so I kneel to get a better look. The hair that isn't blood-soaked is blonde, and her face has features similar to… “Martha?”
She tries to smile with what little energy remains. Her hand grabs my wrist and pulls me down closer to her. I need to help her. I look around for anything that I can use. She drops the handgun in her other hand and, with it, tugs harder. She wants to say something, so I lean in closer.
“Protect my girls,” she whimpers. Her hand lets go and falls to her side.
I jump behind her and scoop her up. If she's not looked at right away, she won't make it. I speed back into the city, looking for anyone. “Help!”
Her body is limp in my arms, but I can still hear her gasp for air every few seconds. Her blood runs down my arms and soaks my shirt. “Somebody, please!”
The breathing slows further. She's not going to make it. I stop and find a flat spot on the ground to set her body. She looks at me, and I brush away the matted hair from her eyes. I grab her hand, and when I look back into her eyes, all I see is emptiness. She's gone.
Tears pour from my eyes as I place her lifeless hand up to my cheek. I hurt for KJ. I hurt for her sisters. This didn't have to happen, and I'm sickened knowing that I am the reason for it. How am I supposed to tell KJ?
I place Martha's hand down by her side and close her eyes. At this point, the outsiders that have been fighting are at the point of no return. There is nothing I can do or say that will save them.
My feet lead me away from the battle and toward a side entrance to the stadium. I don't have it in me to try to conceal myself. As I'm about to reach the entrance, a giant lumbering body charges toward me. It's Farouk.
He lifts me and pushes me against the wall. “Did you have anything to do with this?”
“No.” I grab his arms and pull them off of me. He's stronger than he looks, and built like a brick wall. The man lets me go, and I fall to one knee.
“I don't think anyone knows that you weren't in your room. So, if anyone asks, I'll tell them I got you.” I can't tell if he's upset that I left my room. “This isn't good.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
He doesn't look at me, just stares off toward the sounds of the battle waging at the entrance to the stadium. He's too preoccupied to notice the blood on my hands or the little I rubbed off on him when I pushed his arms off. “She will retaliate.”
“Lucie?” I stand next to him, joining him in my stare.
“Yes. And it won't be good. They completed the bunker yesterday. She doesn't need them anymore, and with the Ragnarok coming, she'll justify any deaths.” Despite his hardened shell, Farouk does care about others. The pain in his voice is heartbreaking.
“Is there anything we can do?” I already know the answer, but I'm hoping Farouk will surprise me.
“Not for them.” He grabs me by the shoulders and looks me in the eye. “You need to go tell 13 and the other Integers to be ready at a moment's notice. We might have to leave with
out much preparation. I'm going to see what information I can get out of Lucie.”
He walks off, leaving me in the low-lying clouds. My body shivers as my other senses have gone numb. This is my fault. I should have never told Martha about the Ragnarok. I put KJ and her family in danger, and I'm responsible for every outsider's death happening before me.
The sounds of gunfire and screams pierce through the clouds and into my head. The focus returns to my eyes, and my legs start to move. Though my heart tells me I should make sure KJ is safe, my mind tells me to do as Farouk said and go to Badwater to talk to 13 and the drones. I'm also not sure yet how to tell KJ about her mother. I'll go to her tomorrow.
The walk to Badwater takes me away from the battle. I can't tell if the sounds are getting fainter because of my increasing distance or if the drones have secured victory. The numbness in my body persists as my feet carry me to the edge of Badwater.
Three Integers approach me, but their voices are garbled hums. I only have one thing on my agenda. “Take me to 13.”
They don't question me and guide me to the front of the building that had become the center of our turning operation. There are about a dozen other Integers gathered outside. They group up next to me as one of them runs to the building to fetch 13.
Some of them are seeing me for the first time in their new woke state, and it's making me uncomfortable. It's a childish adoration akin to that which Pocket has for me, but it's odd coming from them.
“80!” 13 steps through the doorway with a big smile on his face. He puts his arm around my shoulder with a playful demeanor. “Where have you been?”
I faint a smile. “It's complicated.”
He looks at my hands. Martha's blood still covers them. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I'm fine.” I brush off his questions.
“Fair enough.” He peels off and joins the group of Integers, which has grown to about twenty. They all look at me with anticipation.
Their eyes bore holes into my body. I look around at them. Each one is eager to do as I say. I'm not sure of what I'm supposed to tell them, so I let the words roll out uninhibited.
“Each one of you has embarked on a new journey. A journey of free-thinking and choice. A journey where your fate has not been decided for you. Some of you have just started. Some are a little further along. But you all have a choice on where you end up. You are now finally understanding what life is, at a time when it might be too late. We have woken you to this life to help us fight to keep it. Some wish to destroy it, for they believe that it is the only option they have. This includes many here at this bunker. It's why we were created in the first place. To be the defense against those who might try to stop them.
“Soon, we will all be leaving to go to the compound in Egypt, to do what we can to stop them from destroying the world and every living thing on it. You have a choice to come with us and fight or go off on your own, but I want you all to be ready at a moment's notice.” I scan my audience. Every one of them hangs on each of my words.
A voice speaks up from the back. “Why don't we try to stop them here?”
“Care to answer this, 13?” I motion toward him.
He steps forward, and every Integer turns their attention to him. “This bunker is an arm to their operation. If you cut off an arm, the enemy can still fight. We must cut off the head.”
The Integers mumble in agreement. 13 looks at me, and I nod. He looks back at the crowd. “Dismissed!”
I turn and walk toward the edge of Badwater, and 13 joins me. I get more candid with him. “Be sure they are ready soon. We might have to leave as early as a few days from now. Some outsiders attacked the bunker, and Farouk thinks that Lucie will retaliate. He wants to leave during that chaos.”
“Were the outsiders able to do any damage?” He asks.
“I didn't see, but it sounded like a massacre.” I sigh. “They never stood a chance.”
“No.” He looks at me with genuine concern. “What about your girl?”
“She's fine, but her mother didn't make it.” Saying those words hits hard. A lump builds in my chest, and I fight to keep tears from falling in front of 13.
He reads my body language and stops. “I'll have the Integers ready. You do what you need to do.”
“Thank you.” The first tear slips down my cheek.
13 squeezes my shoulder and then runs back into Badwater. My eyes break open as I turn and walk back to my room. The weight of the dead outsiders, the loss of KJ's mom, and the guilt of knowing that I am responsible for all this have broken through.
The light breeze that has accompanied these low clouds cools my face where the tears streak down. These feelings of pain and sadness are not a welcome addition to this new woke life. When I was a drone, death was nothing more than a lifeless body occupying space, discarded like a used protein pouch. I look at my hands and see the blood-stained fingers. It's Martha's blood and the blood of the dozens of other lives that I took when I was no more than a drone. Though the color will wash off, these stains will never go away.
My knees buckle, and I fall to the ground. My body shakes, and my breath quickens. What have I done? How could I have done all those horrid things? Why didn't they stop me? Why did they have to create me like that?
I shiver as I look at my hands, the occasional teardrop hitting my palm. Approaching voices snap me back into the moment. It must be some of the drones doing a perimeter sweep after dispensing of the attacking outsiders. I run as fast as I can toward the stadium. The clouds give me enough cover to go unnoticed, and I find an entrance. I walk through and find myself looking out into the field in the middle of the stadium.
The clouds don't fall as low here, and I can see drones and scientists preparing about eight Flyz throughout the field. Farouk must be planning to take a couple of those, but the rest must be to attack the city. The crowd attending to the Flyz don't pay me any attention. I walk along the outside of the field until I get to the entrance that leads to my room.
The hallways are busier than usual as scientists check around for any damage to the bunkers, and the drones look for any outsiders that might have snuck in. Some of the drones have blood on them from the battle, so no one has looked twice at my hands. I turn the corner and see a familiar face standing outside my room.
“There you are.” Paz ambles toward me. She grabs me by my arm and leads me into my room. “Where have you been? Never mind. Sit.”
She nudges me onto the bed, and I fall back, wanting to lay my body down and sleep. My body aches. My mind aches. My heart aches. I look up at her, yearning for comfort.
Her eyes scan me up and down, analyzing every inch, pausing at my bloodied hands. “80. I need you to listen to the words I say. I need you to understand what I am saying.”
I sit up straight. “Okay.”
“There are times when you can lead with your heart, and there are times when you can lead with your brain. You have to make the decision as to which one you choose to lead with, in each situation. Even when they contradict each other.” She sits next to me, giving me the comfort I was craving. “Sometimes, leading with the heart can be exhausting and painful, and it will force you to lead with your brain as you should have in the first place. When you trust your brain first, it allows you to follow your heart later. Do you understand?”
“I think so.” If I weren't so exhausted, I know I would get it much easier.
Paz grabs my reddened hands, not caring about the origins of the blood. With the battle that went on, I am sure she's made assumptions about the blood's origins. She can tell that I don't want to talk about it, so she doesn't ask. Over the last few weeks, she's guided me through everything that I have dealt with and has shown me patience and sympathy. I have grown to care for her like KJ has said she cares for her mother. “I worry for you, 80. This exponential growth of emotions has taken over your decision-making. It would not be a problem under other circumstances, but we need you to lead with clarity and precision
. You can't do that when matters of the heart occupy your mind.”
She stands, and I stand with her. I know that she is talking about my relationship with KJ and how I've let it interfere with what we were trying to accomplish with the drones. “I understand what you mean. I'll make sure that I'm using my brain more. I need to rest.”
“I can tell.” She chuckles. “Lucie is planning on retaliating soon, so you need to be prepared.”
“What about you? What will you be doing?” I know Farouk plans on piloting one of the Flyz, but he didn't mention Paz in his plans.
“Focus on what you need to do.” She puts her hand on my arm.
I look her in the eyes and can tell that she isn't sure about her plans either. I reach for her and wrap my arms around her. She hugs me back. I can feel a couple of teardrops hit my shoulder and the base of my neck. She also sees our relationship to be very familial. I can't imagine not having her around.
She peels away and walks through my door as she wipes her face. I stick my head out to see her disappear down the hallway. I duck back into my room and head straight to the shower. I need to clean myself of everything, including the guilt, sadness, and pain on my hands.
The hot water punishes me until I can't handle it anymore and have to climb out. I put on fresh clothes that embrace me in a way that calms my body. With the last ounce of energy I have left, I climb into bed and close my eyes.
Paz is right; I need to keep myself focused on the primary goal. Tomorrow I will get KJ and her sisters and bring them to Badwater so they can be there when Farouk secures the Flyz to leave. I will also tell her about her mother if she hasn't already found out.
My mind betrays my logic, and I see KJ finding her mother's lifeless body. I see the anguish she goes through. A hole opens in my stomach, and a pain punctures my chest. Tears frame my face as I drift to sleep.
CHAPTER XII
The sound of my door being kicked open shocks me awake. I jump up on my bed, and my eyes blink in an attempt to make sense of my surroundings.