He drops me, and I fall to my knees. He returns to the wall with the giant paper on it, yelling back at the other outsiders by the entrance. “Keep your guns pointed at him.”
I take that as my cue to join him at the back wall. After taking a deep breath, I stand and head toward the rear. I let my hands drag on the tables’ wood and some of the papers. The softness of each sheet feels like warm skin. “Where did you get the paper?”
“Brianna brought it to us from the compound.” He seems to be warming up to me, most likely because of his confidence that I would not be able to leave this building alive if I tried to do anything he didn't like. He anticipates my next question. “We found the tables in the basement of one of the older buildings. These were the only ones still in useable shape.”
I join him at the wall and see that the massive piece of paper stuck to it has an aerial diagram of the compound on it. I'm mesmerized by it. The map looks hand-drawn and includes details of each building's wings and rooms at the compound.
“What walls have not been rebuilt yet?” he asks as he dips his finger in a cup of a dark chalk-like powder.
I point to the three areas that are still more rubble than walls. “This one should be fixed up by tomorrow. The other two will take longer.”
Petros puts an 'X' over the wall I said was almost built using the dark powder. He sets the cup down and wipes the powder on his pants. He leans back and sits on the table; it looks like it's struggling to hold him up. He looks at the patch on my eye. “Speak.”
His gaze does not sway from my battle wound, and I hope it earns his respect. Or at least his trust. “I was left in charge of the Mutineers and the resistance at the compound. Brianna told me to come and speak with you so that we can coordinate any future attacks to make them more effective.”
“Hmm.” He contemplates my authority, then looks around at the other outsiders, keeping his posture large to convey to them that he's still in charge. “I guess it wouldn't hurt having one of the trained clones giving us intel.”
I tread carefully, keeping up appearances and not letting him feel like I'm taking over. “I will have a better sense of the strengths and weaknesses of the compound from the inside. I'll also know when and where to attack. We have maybe one more chance to try to stop them before they eradicate every last one of you?”
“How do you know that?” the older outsider that led me here yells from the door.
“I saw it happen in Nairobi, where they built one of the bunkers for the Genesys,” I answer, loud enough for all to hear.
“Why are you doing this? What makes you so different from the other clones?” Petros grabs my arm, ready to break it off if he doesn't like my answer.
“Because I was shot in the eye. I saw death embrace me, but I broke free and learned to want to live.” I look down at his hand.
He releases it and walks back to the wall. “So, what do you suggest, clone?”
“80,” I correct as I walk to the wall and join him. I look over the drawing of the compound and focus on the area behind the barracks that was laid with concrete and fenced in. “What does that say?”
Petros stares at me. “You can't read?”
“They never taught us,” I respond. “They saw it as a waste of time since we were engineered to serve one function. Protect.”
“It says hangar, but we aren't sure what's in there.” He leans in to get a closer look.
I think for a moment, and it clicks. That must hold whatever the Genesys will use to escape. “I think I know.”
“So, what is it?” Petros is becoming more impatient.
“Our target,” I shout back as I weave my way to the door and then push through the outsiders. “I'll send more information back soon. Just make sure you are all ready to attack. This needs to happen soon while their guards and defenses are down.”
“We don't got enough weapons and ammo.” The old outsider turns to walk with me.
“I'll send Brianna or some Integers like me out here with some munitions.” I pick up the pace of my step. “You can tell it's them because their hair is different, and they have a burn mark on their necks.”
The outsider stops and salutes me. I nod in his direction and increase my pace to a jog. My stomach rumbles, and I realize that I've been so busy that I have forgotten to eat. I want to get back to the barracks to grab some protein pouches and start to strategize.
I reach the barracks and see 13 leaning against the exterior wall. He must not like his room, given how much time he spends outside.
He notices me approaching and steps away from the wall. “You good?”
“Yeah.” I walk past him. “I need to figure some things out in my head.”
“Sounds good.” He leans back against the wall, and I close the door to my room. I look toward the wall he's on, and the high sun seems to have burned an outline of his body on the wall.
I sit on my bed and look down to the floor, recalling the drawing of the compound. I try to mentally visualize the different areas and discern what the most vulnerable parts must be.
“80, the chosen one wants to see you,” 13 yells through the wall and startles the image away from my mind. He must be referring to Atom.
“I'm not the chosen—” Atom snaps back.
“Save it.” 13 cuts him off. He leaves when he sees me step out.
I stand behind Atom. I'm not really in the
