First, I scratch an image of a round eye. Next to that, I carve out a big round chunk to represent my eye patch. My hands hurt from all they’ve already been through, but I finish. I look at my work and am pleased with the result.
Footsteps snap me out of my pride, and my heart skips. I can hear the echoes coming from the end of the long hallway, and I know that they will be turning the corner any second. I wipe up the bit of blood I got on the wall with my clean hand and rush back to my room. I'm gentle with the door, not making a sound as I close it. Now I wait and hope that Farouk sees it soon.
The sound of a thunderous pounding at my door jolts me awake. I open it, and Farouk pushes me against the wall.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he yells at me through a whisper. His strength is countless times more than mine, and fighting back would be futile on my part. I remain quiet, making sure my feet are firm underneath me until he eases up. He searches for confrontation in my eyes, but he won't find any. I hold my ground, trying hard to hold in any sign of pain that his weight is causing against my chest. Frustrated, he lets me go and shuts the door.
“I had to get your attention,” I rationalize.
“Well, unfortunately, I wasn't the only one to see it. Director Lucie saw it and immediately knew it was about you.” The disappointment in his eyes is crushing. He gave me a chance, and I wasn't careful.
“I'm sorry.” I mean it.
“It's fine for now. I convinced her that other drones must have done it to ostracize you for being different,” he explains. “But you need to be careful, because if she decides on something, I have to go along with it. What I'm doing is far too important to blow my cover.”
“I understand.” My mind dives into a pit of curiosity. What is he working on?
“She asked me to move you to the other side of the stadium to be housed with the drones. I convinced her otherwise, but I won't be able to do it a second time.”
The drones. I remember why I called him here in the first place. “I know how to turn the drones. How to wake them like me.”
“Spill it.” He folds his arms and leans against the door.
“They have to come back from the grasp of death.” I make it sound too easy. It won't be.
“Care to elaborate?” A smirk graces his face.
“I was out in the city when KJ saved me and took me to see her family. 13 found us and threatened to kill everyone. I got him into a chokehold and brought him to within his last remaining breaths before dragging him back to the compound.” I speak so fast that I don't realize the gravity of what I said.
The anger in Farouk's eyes could set fire to the world. The fact that his body and voice stay calm as he approaches me scares me more than anything. “You do realize that you have put this entire operation in danger by being so reckless. I don't care how or why you went out to the city, but you will not do it again. I don't care who this KJ person is to you; you will not see them again. We have a better chance of succeeding with you, especially since we now know how to turn more drones to our cause. But, if you continue to be this careless, we will succeed without you.”
I understand what he means. I am replaceable, more so now that I told him that 13 has been woken and how it is done.
He stares at me for a long, silent, and tense moment. He's making sure that I have registered what he was implying.
“I understand,” I whimper. My relationship with him is one I'm not sure I will ever understand. Am I just a cog in the machine he's building? Does he care for me at all, or am I still a drone to him, meant to follow his orders instead?
Satisfied with my answer, he opens the door. “I want you to steer clear of anyone today. Stay in here and work on a plan to turn more drones. You need to do better at keeping a low profile.”
“Okay.” I feel so small. The anger is easy to deal with, but his disappointment in me is what tightens my chest.
Farouk smiles at me and walks out.
I fall back onto the bed. An excruciating amount of different thoughts speed through my mind. It becomes so intense that all I see is a white blur. It's not long before the weight of my eyes sinks me into the darkness of sleep.
I'm standing alone in the middle of an open field. Not far from me is the older man and little girl I saw from the Fly on the way here. The girl looks different from the one I saw, though. Though it doesn’t look exactly like her, I know it is Pocket. I walk toward them, but a flash blinds me, followed by a deafening boom before I reach them. When my sight returns, I'm surrounded by nothing and everything at once. It's a massive white void, endless in all directions, yet it's so thick and dense that I can feel the pressure crushing my body.
My eyes shoot open, and my breathing deepens. Sweat drenches my body. These sleep visions have been an unfortunate side effect of becoming more self-aware.
I crawl out of bed, feeling sluggish and sore. Everything I have put my body through is catching up with me. A shower sounds like the
