by M. A. Phipps
When we make it to the exit, we separate into two groups—ducking to either side of the stairway leading up into the city. Quinn and Jenner stand to the left while Ezra and I huddle together to the right.
Quinn peers around the corner but slinks back behind the wall a second later. Glancing over my shoulder, I notice the flash of a spotlight as it beams across the opening above us. I turn to meet his gaze.
He jerks his chin toward the stairs and mouths the words, “How many are up there?”
My back presses against the concrete behind me. Breathing in, I close my eyes and concentrate only on the area above us. After a moment, I peek over at Quinn.
“Two by the entrance,” I whisper, “and three more patrolling the square.”
Repositioning his gun, he cocks the slide in preparation. “Got it.”
Without another word, he dashes up the steps. Jenner flashes a surprised look at us before chasing after him, and Ezra and I follow—sprinting up the stairwell with no idea what’s about to happen.
A surprised gasp breaches my lips when Quinn hits one of the Enforcers standing by the entrance on the head, using the end of his gun to knock him out. Rushing forward, Jenner grabs the soldier on the other side, putting him in a chokehold. The man fights back at first, gripping at the arm locked tightly around his neck and squirming right up to the moment his body goes still. Jenner drops him to the ground in an unconscious heap.
Ezra helps them hide the bodies while I stand watch. They tuck them away in a dark corner of the station lobby—somewhere out of sight where no one will stumble across them by accident. By the time they regain consciousness, we’ll be long gone from here anyway.
When we return to the surface, Quinn gathers the Enforcers’ weapons and unloads the ammunition clips, which he then tosses to Ezra and Jenner. I observe his every movement, amazed by the immense difference between the man standing before me and the trembling boy I encountered on the helicopter. I have trouble believing it’s even the same person, making me wonder what happened to him to inspire this drastic change.
Whatever the cause, I’m glad for it.
I linger by the station entrance, using the time to assess our surroundings. My eyes scan the square ahead, and a shiver runs up my spine when the vision I saw before arises in my thoughts. The attack that transpired here comes to life right in front of me with only one alteration between what I see now and what I witnessed in my head. The darkness of night hides the damage well, however, the memory of the destruction is seared into my brain, scarring me forever.
I shake my head to rid myself of the image, fixing my gaze on the distant forms of the three Enforcers in the area ahead. Another shudder hurls through my body when the beams from their flashlights bounce off the bodies covering the ground.
Bile rises in my throat. My hand slaps over my mouth to hold it back, but the nausea is overwhelming. It takes all of my strength not to spew on the pavement in front of me.
A faint whistle grabs my attention, and turning, I glimpse Quinn and Jenner bent low to the ground, darting through the shadows. Ezra moves to follow them but stops in his tracks when I lag behind.
Sprinting back over to me, he whispers in a hurried voice, “We can’t stay here.” His hand takes hold of mine, forcing me to look at him.
In a weary daze, I lift my head. Meeting his gaze, I swallow and nod, trying my best to ignore the blanket of death laid out in front of us. Choking back the feelings of repulsion and remorse, I allow him to lead me after the others.
We stick to the densest patches of darkness, crouching to avoid detection. The piles of rubble littering the streets act as our hiding place whenever Enforcers come within an uncomfortable distance of our position. Quinn guides our every step since he’s the most familiar with the layout of the Heart. Despite our rocky past and his unresolved feelings toward Ezra and Jenner, I’m grateful that he’s here, helping us regardless of the danger it’s put him in. More than anything, we needed an ally.
At this moment, I couldn’t have asked for a better one.
As we progress through the city, I’m forced to recognize the atrocity of the recent attack. Still, it occurs to me that, without it, we wouldn’t have this freedom of movement. The uncharacteristic darkness that surrounds us reinforces my suspicion that the bombings knocked out security cameras, surveillance lights, and every other piece of technology that would alert authorities to our presence. The only reason we managed to operate the train was because there was a functional source channeling power into the station. If it weren’t for that, we would still be back in Zone 7.
Although I feel responsible for what’s happened here in the Heart, I try to find solace in the fact that, if the attack hadn’t occurred, we might’ve never known about Rai. With all the horror and sadness that’s been unleashed upon this day, at least there’s that one trace of hope shining through it.
Quinn comes to a sudden halt, and in a panicked gesture, motions for us to hide. Ezra drags me behind a ruined wall, which lies in disjointed pieces across the ground. We bow behind the remains while Quinn and Jenner stoop behind similar chunks of debris about twenty feet away. Fear prickles my skin as my eyes dart between their faces.
I stare at Jenner, wary of the distance separating us.
My heart races in wild bursts as we wait. Ezra clutches me against him, and we hold our breath as much as we’re able to—doing everything possible to remain undetected. His grip on me tightens when we register the thrumming approach of a vehicle.
The tires tread across the wreckage before coming to a complete stop just next to our hiding place. I peer at Quinn who casts an uneasy glance over his shoulder.
Following his gaze, I watch the patrol of Enforcers as they descend from the armored truck. Their heavy boots pound against the pavement, kicking up clouds of dust with each step. Their voices echo even more loudly.
“Start over there. This zone is to be cleared by morning.”
I hear the sound of clashing rocks as they uncover the wounded trapped beneath the rubble. For the briefest of moments, I find myself hoping they might be here to rescue them.
But just like in Jenner’s story, these Enforcers are not good people.
My eyes widen in shock as they throw the mangled corpses into the back of the truck. Body, after body, after body, with no care for how they handle them. They don’t even bother to check to see if any of them are alive. Until—
“Hey! We have a live one here!”
I can just make out the strangled voice of a woman. Her bloodied hand sticks out from where the rest of her body is buried, thrashing in desperation for someone to see her. Two Enforcers react, but neither one offers any help.
Her cries continue. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the senior Enforcer turn in place, releasing a grunt of annoyance. A grimace distorts his face, and after a moment, he walks over to join the other two men.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” he asks. When the men exchange glances, he elaborates with a sigh, “She’s crippled. This one’s nothing but a burden now.” His eyes fix on her broken body as his hand moves to his belt. Without hesitation, he pulls out his gun and puts a bullet in the top of her head.
Rage blossoms in the core of my body, forming an immense build-up of pressure. My hands ball into fists in an effort to contain it, but I can feel the anger seeping from my pores in a hungry search for revenge. The broken wall behind us begins to crack, taking the brunt of my wrath.
Ezra grips me tighter, holding me against him to calm my distress. Leaning into his chest, I try to get my emotions under control. I might have the power to protect us, but invisibility is still our best shot at getting out of this alive.
Thankfully, no one seems to have noticed my minor relapse, and after another few minutes of searching the area, the Enforcers finally proceed down the street. A breath of relief trickles from my lips when they pass out of view.
Once we’re sure they’re gone, we continue our trek through Zone 1. We manag
e another few kilometers before we come across another unit.
Unlike the last, this contingent is much larger.
We group together in one place this time, observing at least two dozen armored trucks lining the pavement. They unload wave after wave of Enforcers—each one armed and suited as if in preparation for battle. A single commanding officer paces in front of the converging company, barking out orders.
At the distant end of the road, a handful of soldiers erect a blockade. Just beyond that, I glimpse an eerie bright light. A humming noise resounds through the immediate area as the immense television screen positioned in the square farther ahead—typically used for the news and important State-mandated announcements—blinks back to life after a few static-filled attempts. We shrink back to remain hidden as a booming voice carries through the night.
* * *
“Attention, citizens. For the next forty-eight hours, you are officially under house-arrest. Following that, the nationwide curfew will be moved forward from 18:00 to 16:00. Please understand, this is for your own safety. We ask that you remain calm in this time of crisis and that you obey your local Enforcer units as they work to return our city to normal.”
* * *
The screen flickers once, then goes black, hurling the surrounding area back into darkness.
An unsettled feeling twists in my gut when I grasp that this means our time is running out. The State is getting everything back into working order, and we have no way of knowing how long we have before that happens. Before the cameras turn back on.
Scanning the crowd of Enforcers, I debate what to do.
“The Heads were right.” We all turn to face Quinn, but no one says anything. Letting out a deep breath, he adds, “They’re beginning the first phase of enacting martial law.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
He meets my gaze, and my heart drops when I register the grim look on his face.
“It means things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get better. If they get better.”
“Well, let’s hope Nolan can appease whoever’s attacking us before that happens,” Ezra says. “Or before a civil war breaks out when the people realize the State can no longer protect them.”
No one speaks following this statement, far too aware of the very real likelihood that a lot of people are going to die. And soon.
“Would that happen?” I whisper. “Everyone has been subdued for so long . . .”
Jenner tilts his head, cocking an eyebrow. “It didn’t take much to turn you around,” he points out.
“It was the same with us,” Ezra murmurs, his voice so hushed I barely hear it.
Once, he and Jenner were no different than me. I have to keep reminding myself of that—of the fact that they’re victims of our society too. Looking at them now, it’s hard to imagine them as oppressive servants of the State. Doing what they’re told. Following blindly. I suppose the opposite could be said of Quinn. He was the perfect example of what we were intended to become, and yet, here he is—sacrificing all of it because of the simple fact that it’s wrong.
“A little doubt can go a long way,” he muses.
Those words echo in my ears. As much as I want to believe them, I worry that we won’t have the chance to see such a concept in action.
“I think the State is far more likely to just kill everyone,” I grumble.
Quinn repositions his gun as he pulls himself up.
“We have to move. If we stay here any longer, someone will find us.” He jerks his chin, indicating a narrow street to our right. “The DSD is that way.”
Keeping a close eye on the nearby patrol, we follow behind Quinn. He takes us along a route that moves us away from the Enforcers, and as we chase him through the back alleys and streets, I notice the familiar features of the area—recognizing them from the last time I returned to the DSD.
I remember that moment with perfect clarity. The moment I let Richter fool me with the promise of a cure.
A growing weight presses down on me the closer we get to the facility, but I try to ignore the feeling.
Focus only on Rai and whatever we have to do to save her.
I concentrate on that thought as we round the corner that will take us to the front entrance of the building. Apprehension stirs in the pit of my stomach, taking hold as we’re knocked back by the unexpected destruction awaiting us. My eyes trail along the shattered remains as I step across shards of metal and glass.
My body spasms as I feel the DSD beneath my feet.
I shake my head in disbelief. “It’s as if they knew where to hit.”
Quinn raises his gun, keeping his voice low as he scans the perimeter. “PHOENIX has always had inside help. How else do you explain their cache of weapons and food?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Jenner asks. He holds his own gun close to his body as he positions himself beside me.
Quinn glares over his shoulder at us, and the look on his face suggests that the answer is obvious.
“What’s to say that whoever did this didn’t have someone on the inside?”
“What, you think the attackers have a spy within the State?” The skepticism in Ezra’s voice passes over into his lingering sneer.
“Anything’s possible,” Quinn points out. “I’m here helping you, aren’t I?”
Jenner leans forward, and his hot breath tickles my ear. “And aren’t we just lucky to have him,” he murmurs.
I suppress the grin working its way onto my lips. Clearing my throat, I take one last look at the demolished entrance.
There’s no way we’ll be able to get in through here.
With only one option left, I make my way toward the side of the building. I can feel Ezra, Jenner, and Quinn watching me in confusion.
“There’s a back door,” I call over my shoulder.
I don’t know which surprises me more, the lack of Enforcers patrolling the area or the fact that the back entrance to the DSD—which required more security than the rest of the building combined—is deserted and hanging off its hinges. The light on the keypad affixed to the adjoining wall blinks red.
As I stare at it, I get the impression that it’s trying to warn me.
Quinn enters first, followed by me and Ezra with Jenner bringing up the rear. The lights in the first corridor shudder to life only to extinguish and cast us in pitch blackness again seconds later. We stick close together, uncertain what we’ll find here.
“Where is everyone?” Jenner’s words carry through the hallway, haunting our every movement. “This place is deserted.”
My eyes dart from side to side, searching for the slightest hint of life. After a few paces, Quinn freezes in place. Using the barrel of his gun, he pushes open the nearest door.
“Is it?” he breathes.
All the air catches in my lungs when I glimpse the blood covering the floor. It expands out in a massive puddle from beneath the collapsed ceiling.
The only visible part of the body is an arm.
My feet stumble back as the guilt and rage rise to consume me. Once again, I’m forced to accept my fault in this needless death and destruction.
Ezra’s hands wrap around my arms. “It’s okay,” he says. “Just keep walking.”
Parts of the facility lay in ruin while other parts appear untouched. The anxiety running through my body forms a tight ball in my stomach, making the entirety of my nervous system a jumbled mess. I’m not sure if it should relieve or concern me that my uneasiness is shared by the others.
Ezra shakes his head. “This doesn’t feel right.”
I follow his gaze as he casts a suspicious glance along the corridor.
“Do you reckon it’s a trap?” Jenner asks him.
A trap. Just like the one we walked into with Bilken.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” I mumble under my breath.
When I lift my eyes, my feet stumble beneath me, freezing in place. My heart begins to race, climbing up my t
hroat as if intent on choking me.
I feel Ezra’s chest against my back as he presses his body against mine. Concern floods his voice as he releases a muted gasp in my ear.
“What is it?”
I don’t look at him. Instead, my eyes lock on the door at the end of the hall—the entrance to Exam Room B.
The irony is like a slap in the face. Of course, this is where he’d be waiting for us.
“In there.” I signal toward the door with a shaking finger. “That’s where I saw him.”
Quinn and Jenner glance down the corridor, but Ezra never looks away from me. Shifting so that we’re standing face-to-face, he clamps one hand around mine as the other cradles my cheek.
“Hey. I’ll be with you the whole time,” he promises.
I meet his gaze, and reluctantly—fearfully—I nod my head.
Taking a step forward, I embrace this moment. As I do, I try to imagine what awaits us on the other side of that door.
The handle of the door is cold against my skin, sending an icy shudder through every inch of my body. Unsteady breaths spill from my lungs when the latch clicks, echoing in sinister repetitions down the length of the corridor. As I take a cautious step over the threshold, the darkness of the room swallows me in a single mouthful.
My eyes lock on Dr. Richter. Turning at the sound of our entrance, his gaze meets mine as that familiar, menacing smile pulls at the corners of his lips.
“I knew you’d come,” he purrs.
The lighting in the room is dim—emergency fixtures from a backup generator. The glow they cast around him is terrifying, making him even more threatening than I’ve ever known him to be before.
Quinn and Jenner both raise their guns. My unease about this mission and the very real possibility that we’ve walked into a trap resurfaces, making me wonder if we made the right choice by coming here. Ezra doesn’t seem to feel that same fear.