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

Chapter Seventeen

Enna

"I'll be back in a couple hours."

"How many hours?"

The metal door slams shut, causing my ears to ring. I almost wish that Victoria had stayed: being with someone who knows more about our prison might have kept me calmer. But Gale and I are strangers here, and she knows it. They all know it. Our fear of the unknown is what they rely on to keep us quiet.

I'm too tired to care much about our new surroundings: the two dirty mattresses spotted with something that looks uncannily like blood, the table lamp on the floor with a missing shade. I might have preferred sleeping in the parking garage were it not for the numbing cold. Gale--with a faraway, calculating look--hobbles over to one of the mattresses shoved against the wall.

"Trying to find a way to escape?" I sigh, sinking down onto the bare stone floor. On our way here, we passed through several musty hallways branching off from Base Central. Try as I might, I simply couldn't manage to memorize the labyrinthine twists and turns we'd made on our way here. Eventually I abandoned the attempt altogether and took to staring at anything unusual that I passed on my journey. So far the base seems normal enough to me, perhaps minus the fact that the floor seems to tremble every once in a while.

"I'm not trying to form an escape plan." Gale picks at one of her cuticles thoughtfully. "I'm just trying to figure out what this place really is."

The spacious elevator and excess amount of weapons and machinery gives me reason to believe that the base is simply in the business of weapons manufacturing. Perhaps the shaking of the ground is caused by bomb tests. But then, why would they need all of those innocent people from the Depot if all they do is test weapons? My stomach drops as I come to a bleak conclusion.

"Gale, what if..?" Suddenly, a flap at the bottom of the door flips open and a hand sloppily shoves a tray through. The tray consists of two plates, each containing a hard chunk of bread and a wet slab of pink meat.

"They expect us to eat this?" Gale walks over and picks up the meat, holding it away from her face as though it were a worm. Bile rises in my throat at the smell of the stale bread and I scoot towards the back of the room. I'm never going to make it out of here alive. That thought finally sinks in. This is it. There is nothing more to look forward to. My throat begins to squeeze.

"Are you alright?" Gale asks quietly.

"I just miss Matthew. And my mother," I choke. After a moment of silence, Gale nods somberly.

"Do you love him?" She whispers. She looks far away again, but in a different way. A regretful, pained way.

"W-what?"

"Do you love him?" She says it forcefully, taking me by surprise. I struggle with the question far too long, and Gale slowly breaks out of her trance. "If you do, then you shouldn't have left him." The emotion in her voice shocks me, as if she knows exactly what it's like to leave someone behind. Or to be left behind. I don't know which would be more upsetting.

Unease spills into me, rising up through my throat: is Gale right? Does leaving Matthew equate to not loving him? Even when I don't fully understand our relationship, the idea of that hurts. But I don't tread on the topic any longer than I have to, though I'm curious to know how Gale is so familiar with the subject. Instead, I walk over to my mattress and flip it over. A small beetle scampers across the floor and squeezes its tiny body through a crack in the wall. The underside of the mattress is much cleaner than the top.

"What do you think we should do?" Gale asks, biting her fingernail. I pause, a bit surprised that Gale would even think to ask for my input.

"Who knows? There's no way we're going to get out of here."

"Don't talk like that," she whispers, shuddering. "There has to be a way. There's always a way out of a prison."

I'm about to answer, Not this one, but I don't have the heart. Instead, I resign myself to sitting against the stone wall and waiting for Victoria's return. Eventually I fall asleep. A dream replaces my consciousness.

* * *

Matthew

The path appears clear as we leave the elevators for the hotel lobby. If Gale had gotten her facts right, the Workers should be down here any minute. Show time, I think to myself. Alice grunts and nods her head towards the couch in the lounge area. I understand what she means by her indication: resting spot. Grabbing a tighter hold on both of their wrists, I lead them over to the couch and let them land on the bouncy cushions, taking a moment to adjust their gags. Alice begins to look slightly alarmed. At first I think I'm hurting her, then she inclines her head towards me ever so slightly. Getting the cue, I whip around. Five silent Workers stand tall, pointing their guns straight at my chest. I do what feels natural in this situation: put my hands up in the air.

"Who are you?" A man steps forward. He has close-cropped, light brown hair and a face like a rhinoceros. His mustached lip quivers in anger, and the tip of his gun buries itself in my coat. It's a struggle not to take a step backwards.

"Sir," a short woman with long red hair begins tensely. "We will fire if you don't answer within five seconds."

"I'm..." I croak. Come on, I scold myself. Stop cowering like a kid. You know who you are. An unprecedented burst of courage starts to pulse through me like adrenaline, and I force myself to step forward, even though the male Worker's gun presses farther into my ribs.

"I'm Matthew Elliot." I'm surprised at how strengthened my voice sounds when it comes out, like I'm a man instead of a scared teenager. "Son of John Elliot, Executive of Region Two."

The female Worker raises her eyebrows skeptically, as though she thinks I'm lying. The male soldier simply glances at Alice and Ariel who cower together on the couch. Slowly, he lowers his weapon, signaling for the others to do so as well. He still remains wary.

"He's lying," the woman scoffs, twisting her mouth into a grimace.

"No, he's not." The man says. "His eyes. They look like his mother's."

I feel as though everything slows down, except my own heartbeat. My mother? Is she here? She can't possibly be. My throat becomes dry as sandpaper. Since that fateful day when my father broke the news of her demise, I'd given up all hope of finally reuniting with my mom. Could it truly be possible still?

"M-my mother? Do you know her?" The guards glance at each other quickly, coming to a silent consensus.

"That's for us to know and you to find out," the woman says darkly. She gruffly motions towards my captives on the couch. "Who are they?"

"Ariel and Alice Price from New York. Stowaways." I swallow, struggling furiously to regain my composure. "Found them trying to smuggle themselves into Region Six on my way here."

"Alice Price, eh?" The man asks slyly. "As in Enna Price's mother?"

Alice makes a garbled noise of consent. My breaths quicken: maybe I can sneak some information out of these Workers.

"Enna Price." I mutter nonchalantly, leaning against a column in the middle of the room. "What's going on with her?"

"Last I know, she and Gale McAllister had been placed in a temporary holding room while the Master was updated on the situation. They should hold an audience with him any moment now."

"So she's... alive?" The man bares his yellowing teeth.

"Unfortunately." The wave of relief that crashes over Alice, Ariel and I is almost tangible. Enna's safe. She's alive. There may be a chance, however slim, that she can be saved. I recall the terrifying image of her limp body being dragged towards a golf cart in the dead of night. We must find her: today.

"Can you help me hitch a ride to the base? I need to submit these two for testing." I stand up straight and try to look as imposing as the rest of the Workers filing into the hotel lobby. Though I like to consider myself muscular, I don't have to think twice about who would win in a fist fight here. The woman looks me over for a moment then nods tersely.

"But you ride in the back with the stowaways. We don't want any more dissidents on the run."