PANIC ROOM II

Six

Johnny snatches the gun out of my hand and saunters up the stairs without another word. The thin surviving bonds of trust have been diminished, burned beyond the repair.

"Let's keep moving." James orders hastily. The others get to their feet. Nick helps Chris, still shaken, to his feet, whispering comfort to him in low tones.

"Is he alright?" I ask Nick, muttering slightly. For once he appears to not hear me. Nick shrugs.

"Chris, what happened back there?"

"Doesn't matter. I told you to keep Charlie a secret," He snaps. His anger erupts like a tempest, his brown eyes flashing with resentment. "But you can't keep your fuckin' mouth shut."

"Stop making this about me. I'm talking about when the panic room voice took over you."

"You haven't changed one but since that dream about the trial. Still the same, selfish child, always playing the victim. I should've let Charlie kill you."

It takes all my nerve to suppress the urge to press him against the wall, my knife's cold steel resting on his throat, and yell in his smug face how badly I want to kill him, the only person who knows my complete history, that even I don't know of. He stole it from me.

I grab the hilt of my katana, ready to fulfill my wish, but too late. Finn gently pulls me away from Chris, leading me to the front. I replace my sword back in my belt.

At the front of the group, Kun, James, Lucas and Tommy lead the way. Tommy seems to have matured two years in the past week, whereas Kun, now the oldest after Will died, has a new fear in his eyes, renewing youth-like innocence into his still young face.

"How old are you, Kun?" I ask, conversationally.

"Twenty six in February." He replies. I sigh, in spite of myself. He's still so young, forced to see so many sights of blood and death. But that's just like the rest of us, I guess.

"What about you, 020?" Tommy asks, wide eyes glittering beneath his clear visor. I think hard.

"I don't know yet. I only just learned my name, I guess other details will come in time."

"What's your name then?" James asks.

"Alexa."

Tommy stops dead.

"What's your surname?"

"Gray. What's wrong?"

"Oh my god."

~

We continue running without another word. Tommy watches me the whole way, his eyes peppering my skin, even beneath the mask.

Candidates, one of your cohort has been granted immunity from the disease of trust. They have been branded with red.

Johnny collapses onto his shins, gripping his wrist. My head burns. He is the one. I'm sure of it. But more people fall to the floor.

Finn.

Peter.

Mike.

Tommy.

"What's happening?" Taro asks, as the kneeling candidates check their wrists for the new brand.

"Who has it?"

No one. Another trick.

"We'll stay here for the night. Two guards at the top and bottom, switch out every three hours, okay?" James disciplines thoroughly.

"Yes Chief!"

Lucas paces across the top stairs, whilst Jaemin paces the bottom stairs, equally serious. Mark begins to cook a meal, which smells amazing in comparison with my vacuum packed stew.

"Alexa, can I talk with you for a moment?" James beckons me over privately.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. It's just... Can I sleep next to you again tonight?" His question catches me by surprise.

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I slept really well last night, that's all."

"Of course, but what about the others?"

"You don't want them to get the wrong idea?" He asks, and I nod. "There's far worse shit we need to worry about."

"DINNERRRRR!" Mark calls, serving up the hot soup with white crustless bread. Everyone takes a bowl and eats like scavengers.

I haven't touched my soup, too scared to take off my mask, my head still burning. My immediate thought is a punishment, to curse me for revealing the cause of the disease.

The burning fades, and I remove my mask. The group turns and stares and a lock of cherry red hair hovers in front of my eyes.

My entire scalp has been branded.