Unplugged: The Hidden World (#2, Unplugged Trilogy)

Chapter Eight

  I wake before anyone else the next morning, just as the sun hesitantly peeks over the horizon. I lift and fall gently with each of Matthew's balanced breaths, and I hold still to refrain from waking him. The car seems to be coasting faster than before and my mother hums tunelessly, obviously fighting to stay awake. I find myself admiring her perseverance: if I were in her shoes, I'd have fallen asleep hours ago. Ariel lies curled on the passenger seat as usual, eyes closed, almost like a cat. It surprises me that someone once so talkative could manage to sleep at all.

Staring out at the barren, rocky landscape, I struggle to remember the dream that woke me. It wasn't much different from the first dream I had only days ago, apart from being more frightening. I remember staring into darkness illuminated only by two, bright yellow eyes. A raspy, throaty voice echoed around a stone room. "Enna," it said. It simply repeated my name over and over again, all while I sat frozen in fear. Then I woke up. I wish Matthew were awake so I could explain my dreams to him; my mother would never understand their significance.

If I'm right, the raspy voice and discolored eyes belong to a very important political head. I remember hearing it weeks ago, when Matthew and I managed to infiltrate the Pillar. John Elliot seemed to be intimidated by this person. Whoever I'm dreaming about is not a force to be reckoned with: I only wish I understood why I was dreaming about him. To still my troubled mind, I untie the bloody jacket from my wound. It still looks puffy and aggravated, but it no longer bleeds heavily. I find a small, clean patch of fabric and place it over the injury, re-tying the jacket around my thigh. As I scoot towards the other side of the car, something out the window catches my eye.

Short, dead trees line the rocky highway. This scene must look incredibly strange as our car zips down the road all alone, almost like we were the last people left on Earth. I make it a game to count all of the abandoned houses and buildings and shopping centers that we pass... A long stretch of time goes by until Matthew stirs. He reaches his arms around my waist and pulls me closer to him.

"Good morning," I whisper.

"How long have you been up?"

"Since the sun rose."

"Hey, are you guys awake back there?" My mother asks drowsily, every word slurring into the next. I nervously remove Matthew's hands from my waist.

"Barely," he replies, yawning.

"During the night we've entered Region Four. I got some more gas, and the security guard gave me a helpful map. Region Six is just ahead." I can't help but feel a little nervous. What will be waiting for us at Region Six?

"How did you manage to convince the guard you had the right intentions?" Matthew asks. At the front of the car, Ariel sits up and rubs her eyes, stretching out her legs. My mother shrugs her shoulders and looks back towards us, smiling faintly.

"I told him the same story I told the last guy. He ate it up." She watches Matthew and I for a moment longer, a pained haze clouding her gaze, then she turns back to the front. "Hopefully the next guy does. If something really is going on in Region Six, then I expect security to be much tighter." I nod in agreement. We're all going to have to do some acting.

"Can I have that map?" Matthew asks, reaching out a hand. My mother hands it back to him, and I join him in reading it. My eyes scan over the ten regions of the United States. That title just sounds wrong now: why hasn't it been changed to the "United Regions"? Shrugging off my curiosity, I follow the map from New York City in Region Two to Region Six, the center city of which is Denton. The map is a population map as well: small blue, yellow, and red dots heavily cover the eastern coast. There is no key to explain what the colors mean. The expanse of land to the west has no dots on it. I vaguely remember the history program I'd been watching, and how it talked about the refusal of some to embark on the Atlantic Trek. Clearly, they'd been forced to do so anyway.