by Jakob Farrar
When Mark awoke, blinding light filled his eyes. He tried to blink it out, but it persisted until his eyes got used to it. He stood, seeing that he was standing on a white floor. It expanded in all directions for as far as Mark could see. The sky was white and went up infinitely. One of the first things Mark noticed was that he was not alone. It the room with him stood four figures. He recognized all of them; they were his friends. Gabe, Kyle, Stephen, and Veronica stood in front of Mark.
"Veronica?" Mark said. She didn't seem to hear him, "How are you all here? You're all dead!"
Then Mark realized that he might be dead, too. This could be the afterlife; just floating around in an endless room, unable to communicate with anybody else for all of eternity.
But it was not to be.
Mark woke up in a van. He was seated in between Phoebe and Byron, both of which shouted at Kaytlen, who was at the driver's seat. Caleb, Nellie, and Oscar sat in the row behind Mark, and Ashley sat in the passenger's seat. Mark wondered what they were yelling at, but, when he looked behind the van, realized why they were in a van going easily illegal speeds.
Behind them was a wall of rocks and dirt pursuing them like an avalanche.
"Hurry up!" Byron shouted.
"I'm going as fast as I can!" Kaytlen yelled back.
"You're going the speed limit?!"
"No! What do you think I am, o-"
"Phoebe, can't you just pick this van up?" Oscar yelled up.
"Can't you just stop this landslide?" Phoebe yelled back.
"Watch out! There's a-" Ashley yelled.
Suddenly, the van lurched forward, tumbling over the edge of a cliff. The group screamed, except for Mark, who remained calm. He knew he wasn't really in a van, and that this wasn't really reality.
The bottom of the cliff suddenly became visible, growing closer and closer with every passing second. Mark ignored the screams in his ear, watching as they fell down, down, down.
Mark's eyes opened this time to a black, unending void. All he could see for miles on end was a deep darkness that engulfed him and surrounded him. He felt immobile, but even if he could move it wouldn't have mattered. He would've made no progression in the eternal blackness he had found himself in. Mark managed to keep himself calm, however. He knew where he was. He was simply dreaming, as he had been for the past month. His strange dreams had plagued him, but he knew that he consistently woke from them. However, what seemed like hours seemed to drag on and on. He began to worry. Would he ever wake up from this nightmare? Or would he simply go insane, his consciousness fading away until he had left nothing but an empty shell for his friends back in the land of the awake?
His friends. Mark found it strange that he thought of them that way. He had never truly had many friends. Usually it had just been him and Caleb, with whom Mark had recently reunited. But he felt more than a sense of comradery for the Unnatural he had met on his journey to the abyss he was now in. He felt as though he cared for each of them deeply, even those he had just recently met. He felt a connection to them that he had never felt with any group of people before. They had been his motivation this entire way. They had pushed him to care, to protect. They had brought something out in him that have him the instinct to fight ferociously. He understood now what the Unnatural were. They were not simply a group of individuals connected by their mutual persecution from the general population. They were friends; they were essentially family.
With this thought being his focus, Mark began to see a dull red light appear on the horizon. The light grew and grew and eventually gave way to a blinding white light.
And with that, Mark's eyes opened.
Later, Byron watched Phoebe and Mark. They were lying down next to each other, laughing and talking as they had been for a while now. Byron was very aware of Grace sitting next to him.
"I'm so sorry," Byron said to Grace.
"You don't need to be sorry" Grace said even though it was obvious she was distraught; her eyes were red from crying.
"You could be like them right now," Byron said, "If it weren't for me."
"I don't know what y-"
"It's all my fault!" Byron put his head into his palms, the feeling of absolute guilt washing over him as if it ran like heavy liquid through his veins.
"No, it's not, Byron, Stephen did what he had to do."
"But it is," Byron said, standing, "I did this! I killed Stephen and Gabriel and Kyle!"
"What do you mean?" said Grace, a confused and frightened look in her eye.
"I was the one who agreed to us fighting," Byron said, "Peyton told me that they had found Veronica and that she was Unnatural so she was alive and he said that I would see her again if we fought for them so I agreed! I was selfish, and I killed them all!" Byron kneeled down, head in his hands, tears flowing from his eyes.
The other Unnatural looked up at Byron. "You did what?" Phoebe whispered.
"Go ahead," Byron said, looking back up, "Leave me. It's what I deserve. I've done too many horrible, selfish things. I don't deserve all of you. You don't need me. I've become a liability and a weakness to you all."
The whole group was silent. "We should leave you," Mark said from his prone position, "Because you coming and gathering us was selfish. Because you jumping out of a helicopter with Stephen was selfish. Because you leading the charge into Sector Six was selfish. Because you making sure that Phoebe was healed at the price of not one but two people you loved was selfish. Byron, you may have done some bad things. You may have been impulsive, but we all are at some times. You may have been selfish, but you were also selfless."
"We'll find Veronica," Phoebe said, "Someday."
Kristine wanted to destroy something. She was the furthest behind in this race to control the Unnatural. Then only piece she had in the game was Veronica Garrett, and she would only be useful if Kristine knew where Byron Peters was, which she didn't. Kristine knew only that they had been in Sector Five and they were no longer there.
Maybe things would still work out. Kristine had received word of a new base being built several miles away from where she was, yet not very far. They called it Sector Nine, and, apparently, Sector Zero was going to use it to trap the Unnatural.
Kristine would keep watch on Sector Nine. She would watch it until she saw something happen, some weakness in Sector Nine's defenses, and then she would strike. She would take the Unnatural as her own weapon, and use them to destroy the Sectors, one by one until her victory was ensured.
"We've got them," Randy Vargas said to Thomas Garek in the Sector Nine Control Center. Sector Nine was located entirely underground, as it was supposed to be a hidden resistance.
"Excellent," Thomas said, "Were there any major casualties?"
"Kyle Hunter, Stephen Jaxon, and Gabriel Ramsey"
"Send a plane out to get them. Soldiers from Sector One should be arriving at their location soon, I want their only option to be coming to us."
"They aren't far from here," Caleb said, "If we go now, we should be able to reach the base by morning."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Phoebe said, "We're all pretty exhausted from today. We need rest."
"But the Secret Service will be after us soon."
"Yeah, but we don't want to be tired if we have to-"
An explosion shook the ground. Phoebe looked backwards, towards where she had heard the explosion.
About half a mile out were lines of tanks. The air was filled with helicopters, and soldiers marched in countless lines. This was the biggest force they had faced yet.
"We have to go," Caleb said, "Right now."
Phoebe and Byron ran over to Mark, helping him up. "I can take care of them," Mark said.
"Not alone," Phoebe said, "We're going to a place that will protect us, but we have to hurry."
"No, I got this; you go with them," Mark said, "I'll only slow you down."
"Mark, you're coming with us," Phoebe said, "No time for sacrifice."
Mark shook himself from their grasp. He nearly fell
over from the pain in his back. It was all he could do just to stand. A fire grew in his hands. "I can take care of them by myself," Mark said, "Leave, now. I'll catch up later."
"Mark, shut up and come on."
"Byron, please," Mark said, "You understand sacrifice, don't you?"
"I may understand sacrifice, yes," Byron said, "But not from you. Mark, you were the first to answer my call and you've been by my side ever since. We've had our differences in the past, but I've come to know you as a brother. I can't let you stay here and face the might of Sector Zero by yourself."
Mark was silent, but he knew what he had to do. He took the fire and threw it at the ground, creating a ring of fire around him.
"You said you loved be like a brother, Byron," Mark said, "Think of how much. I love Phoebe far more than you do me, so please, take her and go."
"Don't you dare," said Phoebe, her voice cracking. Byron looked at her, tears in his eyes.
"See you, Mark," Byron said. He grabbed Phoebe by the waist and picked her up. She screamed and wailed her fists on his back, but Byron began to run and didn't stop until her had caught up with the others.
Mark turned to face the army. He was well within firing range, but they didn't shoot. Mark knew why; they wanted to capture him again. But he wouldn't let them. If they really wanted him, he would have to be dead. Mark threw fire forward, sending it towards the army. This fire was different than other fireballs Mark had thrown, though. This fire burned hot and furious, incinerating and consuming all that it came across. It never stayed in one place for long; it hit one tank or soldier and moved to the next in a matter of nanoseconds. The army couldn't combat it; it was much too powerful. So they decided to go after the source.
He knew how it happened. He knew why it happened. And, most importantly, he knew that it had happened.
And now he stood, surrounded by an inferno, devastating the most powerful army on the world.
And he was brought down by a single bullet.
The bullet hit his chest. He fell backwards, but didn't feel any pain. In fact, the only thing he felt was a sense of accomplishment.
Mark had done it. He'd saved what was left of his group. He'd saved the people he loved. They were going to a better place now, one that would protect them, one that would shelter them. They would be kept safe from the evil tyranny that was Sector Zero.
Mark had done it, and he was content. He could die here, outside of Sector Five, in peace. Phoebe was going to a better place. Byron was going to a better place. Caleb and Nellie were going to a better place, and that was all that mattered.
Watching the devastation through the flames, Mark closed his eyes. He heard the hum of an engine nearby, and the sound of some sort of machine. He didn't care, though. Mark was done.
He took a breath.
And he was done.
Epilogue
Air
Air.
Mark gasped as he felt air enter his lungs. He opened his eyes, looking around franticly, studying his surroundings.
He was suspended on a wall, much like he had been in the Secret Service. He was in a small, square room, just like he had been in the Secret Service. And, in the center of the ceiling was a single, dim light just like that of the room in the Secret Service.
Panic surged through Mark. Had they found him? Was he back in the Secret Service? Had they found a way to bring him back to life? Is this what he was condemned to now; a life of constant torture knowing that Phoebe was far away from him? Or was this the afterlife? Was this hell? Reliving the moments when he was most afraid, tortured constantly with his own memories?
A door swung open on the wall opposite to Mark.
Just like it had in the Secret Service.
A single man stepped slowly into the room.
Just like Peyton had in the Secret Service.
What was happening? How was it happening? The man stepped inside, the door closing behind him.
Just like it had it the-
Stop it, Mark told himself, This man obviously isn't Peyton.
And he wasn't. This man looked younger. His head was uncovered, revealing well-kept-to brown hair. He wore jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket; he looked too casual to be in the Secret Service.
While Mark knew this thought should've comforted him, for some reason, it only frightened him more.
The man stopped just in front of Mark and looked at him, studying him. He was silent for several minutes. Mark jumped when he finally spoke.
"Mark Konners," the man said, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. My name is Thomas Garek. Welcome to Sector Nine."