Trace

Twenty-Three

Trace awoke to heavy breathing and stuffy air. Immediately, her mind freaked out, her mind clouded by the memory of waking up to sleeping gas. She opened her eyes quickly, choking on her own breath as she sat up and sniffed the air. It smelt recirculated and musty but not sickening like the sleeping gas. She sank back onto her pillow with heave of a sigh and massaged her temple. She could feel a headache coming on, even though she was sure it was some time in the middle of the night.

Her eyes began to close and she felt herself begin to drift off, until a strangled cry came from the bed across the room. She opened her eyes again, only to find Glint sitting up, rubbing her face with the back of her hands.

"Glint?" She asked softly, using her hands to brace herself as she sat up, the blanket falling to her knees. "You okay?"

Glint glanced at her, nodding her head before changing her mind. "No."

She placed her hands on her eyes, peeling one off to look at Trace. "Do you remember when I said you were going to be murdered? That night back at Allivan's?'

"Yeah. Guess you were wrong 'cause I'm not dead."

"No, Trace You don't understand. I was in the room when Yang said they were going to murder you. I saw your school picture brought up from two years ago, the last recorded year you completed, which was how I knew who you were. When I saw you, I had to warn you but, now that I'm thinking about it, I think they meant they were going to murder you later in their plan." Glint paused and sat up quickly. "Oh my gosh."

"What?"
She faced Trace fully. "Trace, they've been planning this from the beginning. Every detail, every situation, every person we've met, they've calculated the outcome to precision. They've been playing us this whole time! And we've followed them blindly."

Trace froze, her mouth moving but no noise coming out. She gulped down the lump in her throat before choking out, "But, how did they... why would they... that means..."

"We've been duped, Trace. Someone's a traitor. And they've come to kill you."

***

The hours melded together into painful fits of sleep, shackled together with flickering dreams from history and yawning gaps of silence and wondering and crying. Actually, Trace thought as she washed her face for the thousandth time that night, there was more crying than anything. A lot more.

She stared at her reflection, hollow and streaked with salty red lines from her recent waking in tears. Grey shadows curled under her eyes, seeming haunted and ghostly in the moonlight. Trace sighed, turning the tap off and leaving the bathroom, creeping through the main room that had been transformed into a bedroom. Glint lay on her bed, the covers shoved unceremoniously to the side as she shifted in her sleep.

At least she could sleep.

Trace walked into the small kitchen with the door that lead outside. She winced when her foot hit the creaky board but, when Glint didn't stir, shrugged on the jacket Phoenix had left hanging on one of the few chairs in the cabin. While the temperatures soared into the thirties in the day, it plummeted at night in the mountains. Pausing at the door, one hand already twisting the handle, she turned back around and shoved her hands into the bag left on the counter. He hands hit cans of non-perishables, a packet of biscuits and bottles of water until they found their prize. She pulled them back into the open, smiling as her fingers enclosed around the bar in her palm.

Ah, how she loved Toblerone.

Pulling the wrapping off, she broke a perfect pyramid of chocolate goodness from the row and bit into it, her mouth flooding with warmth and an amazing taste she'd been craving for ages now. Chocolate. Chocolate.