In a nightmare world ravaged by misery, the Imperium offers utopia to a select few. When Arya and Everett are recruited into this elite society, they choose to leave their homes against their families' wishes.
Naive and young, Arya and Everett are...
After running through a dozen streets flanked by identical grey buildings, the wail of sirens is left far behind. Everett and I finally stumble across the stairs leading to the familiar skyscraper. This building — painted in a shade of blue so light that it's almost white — is taller than the rest. Big tinted windows stare back like a hundred glass eyes.
I break into a light sweat while climbing the stairs with Everett by my side. I hold my injured hand close to my chest, so the drops of blood leaking from my wound are soaked up by my suit. By the time we reach the top of the colossal stairs, a sizeable bloodstain is splattered over my steel-grey suit.
Upon entering the building, we are greeted by empty hallways, and the only sound in the air is that of a soft mechanical hum. Everett glances down at me, the worry in his eyes growing deeper as he notices the dark, misshapen splatter of blood on my suit.
"Do you remember anything about this place from the last time we were here?" I ask, desperately searching my mind for hints about where any of these hallways might lead. But all I can summon from my memory is a disconcerting series of images of Everett and me strapped to beds, the Foreman's unkind face looming over us.
"Not really," Everett says in answer. He gestures uncertainly towards the closest hallway to my right. "How about that one?"
I shrug in agreement, gritting my teeth as a fresh wave of pain suddenly slices through my hand.
As we wander down the hallway, I search the plain walls and long rows of closed doors for any distinctions, but everything is sterile, white, and frustratingly bare. At the far end, the hallway forks into two paths.
Suddenly, one of the doors from several feet ahead of us falls open noiselessly, a woman emerging from behind. I freeze, clutching Everett's hand in a vice-like grip. Thankfully, the woman's attention is buried in a glass slab between her hands as she heads down the corridor, leaving us unnoticed.
The woman's petite, almost childlike form evokes an abrupt spark of recognition in me. I gasp at the unannounced onslaught of images: a throng of people under the burning sun; my hand in Everett's; a girl, loud and buoyant, gushing about her sister who was recruited by the Imperium a few years earlier.
"She's Lorelai's sister!" The words leave my mouth in a quiet rush, and the realization fully hits me a few seconds later. The idea of seeing another familiar face amongst a sea of hostile strangers gives me a sudden jolt of hope. I say with more conviction, "Do you remember Lorelai? She was recruited with us, and her sister was recruited five years before we were!"
"Whoa, y-you're right." Everett exhales, running a hand through his hair, his eyebrows knitting together as he works through his own torrent of memories. "But, Arya . . . neither Lorelai nor her sister will remember each other now."
"Oh. Right." I whisper, the burst of energy quickly seeping out of my body, leaving me even more drained.
Lorelai was thrilled to be recruited. She had declared joyously that the first thing she wanted to do when she reached the Imperium was meet her sister. But now, these two sisters — once bonded by blood, pain, and suffering — are perfect strangers to each other.
"Let's just follow her anyway, okay?" Everett says consolingly, tipping his head towards her receding figure. "Maybe she'll lead us to the Foreman."
I quickly consider and dismiss the alternative of venturing into each room, unaware of what's behind the door. Finally, I nod in agreement with Everett's idea and turn my attention to where Lorelai's sister was, only to find no trace of her.
"She must've turned when we weren't looking," I groan.
Exchanging frustrated glances, we break into a run, our shoes squeaking faintly against the smooth floor. By the time we reach the end of the path, my lungs are burning from the unendurable effort.
I manage to catch a glimpse of Lorelai's sister just before she disappears into yet another turn. I point to the right, silently motioning with my uninjured hand.
After having applied steady pressure on my wound, the bleeding has started to ebb, but the broken skin still throbs painfully, the wound threatening to reopen at the slightest provocation.
We spend the next several minutes shadowing the citizen as she takes several turns along the long, tranquil, identical-looking hallways. Her eyes are glued to the glass slab almost the entire time, her fingers deftly flying over the surface. Finally, she stops in front of a door twice as wide as the ones in its vicinity. A pyramid glows on the door at eye-level — a wispy, exquisite formation in gold.
Fascinated, I watch from a few feet away as the woman lowers the glass slab in her hand and stares at the pyramid for a few, unblinking seconds. Suddenly, the pyramid's glow intensifies and the door buzzes wide open. She walks in, quickly vanishing from my sight as the door begins to slide shut.
Without a word, Everett suddenly races towards the door, throwing himself in its path mere moments before it unites with the wall again. My heart leaps up to my throat, and I'm petrified that the door may injure him, or a barrage of ear-splitting alarms may go off, or both.
"Everett!" I gasp, rushing over to him.
"It's open!" he beams, unfazed aside from being slightly winded.
"Give me a warning before you do something like that again!" I chastise Everett, thumping my fist against his shoulder, my heart still hammering violently against my ribcage.
I quickly glance into the space behind the door to ensure Lorelai's sister hasn't noticed the commotion. Fortunately, she is nowhere in sight. Raising my eyes to the ceiling for a second, I exhale in relief when I realize that the mechanical hum in the background hasn't been interrupted by any sirens.
"Hey, I'm okay!" Everett says with a gentle laugh, giving me a triumphant grin that I can't help but return. His gaze shifts to the aisle in front of us before he quirks an eyebrow at me questioningly. "This looks like the perfect place to look for the Foreman."
Unlike the bright hallways we've come across so far, this one is dimly lit by strange, misshapen blue fixtures. Something about the cold space seems highly confidential, forbidden. But my apprehension is laced with a thread of curiosity.
With a heavy sigh, I nod reluctantly. "I don't think the Foreman's going to be happy if he sees us here, but . . . Let's go."
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Hey guys! I hope you liked this chapter! Please let me know what you think of this story and Arya & Everett so far! The next chapter is already in the works, so I should have it ready very soon.
