54 - Bits and Pieces

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a/n: If you finish this story, PLEASE COMMENT your thoughts of the overall novel. I want your thoughts and feedback! Thanks :)

"So does this mean the revolutionaries are thirty-two strong again?" a male voice with an accent cheers.

I hear a distant chuckle. "I wouldn't say you guys count. You're not revolutionaries. You're the reason the madness is at the level it is. You're like...liabilities. Travis can count. So I'd say we're up by one. Twenty-eight. Not so much strong, though," a female responds.

My head bobbles up and down at a sluggish, intervalled rate. I feel as if weights are tied to my every limb as they dangle from who knows what.

"Gee, thanks," a new voice remarks, sounding close. "I am the one carrying her after all." The sound reverberates against my left side.

Another identical laugh spouts off; it's more like a snicker. "You could use the arm training."


"When will they be back?" a woman asks, her voice nervous.

"Anytime now," another female states.

I squirm around on a squishy, smooth surface, but can't force my eyelids open to see where I am. Nevertheless, I'm comfortable.

"Brink removed all of their chips, right?"

I hear no verbal response.

"If this doesn't work...if one of them is taken, or worse..."

"This is why I've been assigned to you," one interrupts the other. "You worry too much," she says lightheartedly. "You're just like Aurora. I figured by now, after all you've done, you'd have a heart of steel."

The woman sighs. "I'm just nervous for her. I know she'd be right there with them if she were awake. She's so brave."

"She is. I envy that of her."


A jolt knocks my eyes open wide before they roll to the back of my head again. I saw blue. Only blue. And feel a burning sensation along my back.

"Be careful with her!" a man growls.

Someone near me scoffs. "Just keep in your seat belt, soldier boy. She's fine."

Icy fingers brush against my forearm before they lock around my palm. The hand is thin and soft. I'm unable to squeeze it or flinch at its temperature.

There's beeping all around me, in random pitches and variations. Loud. Quiet. Consistent. Intervallic. "All systems engaged," a male voice announces. Gasps enter my ears from both my left and right sides. I wonder why, but my mind doesn't linger. New sounds distract it, along with another jolt. "Ready?"

Something of a groan escapes my throat, my lame endeavor to respond. A few uneasy laughs follow.

"Is she okay?"

"She's alright," replies a woman. I sense the chilly hand go to my forehead. "How will the liftoff affect her body?"

The response takes a while to emerge from the throat of another female. "It'll be like she's sleeping on a roller coaster."

"What Stella is trying to say, is that the force of the whiplash will more than likely snap her neck," a guy clarifies, seeming unaffected by the severity of his words. "Keep her head stable."

Two hands rush to grasp my face and thrust it in a different direction. I tense up and my eyes roll open for a brief moment, but I only see a black blur. No shapes or silhouettes.

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