Children don’t know just how good they’ve got it. I think it might be common practice for any living being to take their circumstances for granted. We can’t see air, but we breathe it. What we aren’t aware of simply doesn’t exist until someone brings it to our attention. That is how I’m feeling right now.
The room smells like something is burning.
The file in front of me is an extensive one belonging to a man named Jaroslav Ivanovic. Everything about him is wrong; he wasn’t born in a place called Serbia, and he didn’t get married for the first time when he was twenty-two. He would have told me about having a daughter living somewhere in Africa. Uncle Jay—this man—he would have told me. He just would have. Family doesn’t keep secrets from one another.
This chair feels rough, and I’m more than a little fidgety at the moment. If this man was an influencer, he knew the risks of going so close to the perimeter of the edge of the dome. He was the control of the experiment and I swear he cared about me. Maybe he believed this was a cause worth dying for.
The roars are few and far between now. Most of the Major’s guards are engaged in combat, and I’m sitting here because I’m still trying to figure out my place in all of this.
The Major walks up to the console on my left without acknowledging me. He’s preoccupied with what is going on and rightly so.
What am I doing here?
“How far out are they?” The Major looks as if he’s talking to no one in particular, but the light above his implant is on. “Try to direct them into the warren. It’s quiet here for the time being.”
I haven’t let go of the gun Garrick gave me earlier. One step at a time. My hands are shaking.
“I can find a room on one of the upper levels if you want to use somewhere else as a safehouse.” The Major is talking to me now. He clears his throat for emphasis. “You’ll just be a little out of reach if something happens.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine, I’m just not sure what I should be doing.”
He nods. “Well, I’ve had a couple of teams report in. Some of the subjects are exploring the outskirts of their domes.”
“And they’re being directed here?”
He presses some buttons on the console. “Exactly. Might be good if someone were here to greet them. I’m not much for this kind of diplomacy. You?”
“Here you go, Major. As promised.” Garrick enters the room looking a little more tired than when he left. He walks with one metal hand latched onto Bullock’s shoulder. Both men are limping—Bullock more so than Garrick.
I don’t move. I’m still holding the gun.
The Major grabs a chair and sets it down in front of one of the consoles. Garrick wastes no time in escorting Bullock to it.
Bullock leans back in his seat, exposing a small wound under his jacket. “This is dangerous, you know. If I die, then—”
The Major shakes his head. “Do not attempt to guilt me, Mr. Bullock. I assure you that in the long run your death would be insignificant.” He pauses. “Now, I need to know whether or not there’s a cutoff for the power.”
Bullock laughs. “Having some trouble getting to the generators? I’m glad the failsafes are working so well.”
Garrick kicks him in the ankle. “You better hope he doesn’t let me have my way with you. It’ll only be fun for one of us.”
“Have you figured it out yet?” Bullock is addressing me, but I’m not sure why. “The meaning of life?”
I shake my head. “Have you?”
He smiles. “I’m glad you’re finally starting to ask the right questions.”
Garrick kicks Bullock’s other shin. “Hey, eyes on me. We’re not done by a long shot.”
The Major turns to Garrick. “You’re authorized for level three interrogation.” He then turns to me. “It’s your choice, Petra, stay or go, but either way… this is going to get a little messy.”
I hesitate. “What exactly is level three interrogation?”
Garrick smiles. “I only get to do half the things I want.”
I make eye contact with the Major. “You can’t be serious.”
Garrick chuckles. “Oh, he’s quite serious. Never known Henry to be anything but.”
I shake my head. “That’s barbaric.”
Garrick reaches down, pulls a knife from his boot, and begins brushing the blade across Bullock’s cheek. “Believe it or not, that’s human.” Without warning Garrick’s blade starts making shallow cuts along Bullock’s neckline. The man winces, but stays silent. The Major looks satisfied, and Garrick looks like he’s a kid dissecting a slice of birthday cake. “How many layers of skin do you think I can peel away before you start screaming?”
This isn’t right.
I take a deep breath. Heavy footsteps echo from the hallway. I raise my weapon and step towards Garrick. “Stop.” But he doesn’t. “I said, stop it.”
Garrick continues cutting in a shallow—now zigzag—pattern. “Sorry, orders are orders. There’s only one person in this room who can tell me what to do, and even then only sometimes.”
I can feel the Major’s gaze. I don’t look at him; my eyes are only on Garrick.
Bullock, despite the wincing, looks rather amused.
I take a deep breath and steady my hand. I only hesitate as I hear voices approach. I recognize them instantly. The Major appears next to me, and my gun is out of my hand and into his before I realize what has happened. He takes an aggressive stance, his posture much like that of an animal looking to assert dominance.
“Wait, hold up.” Kyra steps into the room with James and a collection of people behind her.
The Major looks down at me. “The next move is yours, Petra. I’ll let you decide how this all plays out. Be warned, though, every action has consequences, and I am more than ready to respond to whatever it is you choose.”
The seconds feel like they’re counting down. On one side of the room, I have something I don’t agree with, and on the other I don’t know how the people will act if I address them. There’s bad blood there.
I suppose we are all faced with choices now and then. Two options stand in front of me, but I am well aware that there’s a third. I could just do nothing and let the scene play out as is.
The Major is right; actions have consequences, and inactions do as well. I honestly don’t know where to go from here. It’s like shooting a rifle in the dark. The chance of hitting a target is relatively small.
“Kyra.”
She looks at me with her gun in hand. “Don’t say another word.”
Action or inaction?
I step away from the Major and make my choice. The shooting begins.