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Pen Your Pride

Chapter Forty-One

 “But you can’t just leave,” Mr Jones tries to tell us.

We have found a campervan parked in one of the underground car parks. It’s quite modern. Must be worth a fortune. Unlike the one we arrived in, this one has windows and bedding for everyone. This will be our home.

For now, anyway.

“Try and stop us,” Chad suggests.

After seeing us fight Twelve to a standstill, the idea obviously does not appeal to Mr Jones.

While we’re talking, we’re packing our few belongings into the van. There’s precious little. The Agency took away our names, our homes, our families. Everything that identified us as who we were. The Agency took almost everything away from us.

All we have left now is each other.

“I’m not sanctioning what Twelve did,” Mr Jones says. “I can’t sanction what he did. The other branches of The Agency are up in arms over it. They’re completely disavowing Twelve’s actions. It’s a complete betrayal of everything for which The Agency stands.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” I replied.

It’s hard to know what’s true and what’s a lie. Mr Jones and some of the others at The Agency knew about The Alpha Project. Trying to prove it or track down all those in charge would be a pointless exercise. Doctor Richards destroyed all the records and the death of Twelve signaled the final end to the whole experiment.

Mr Jones has already told us that a replacement is being brought in for Twelve. He has said there will be more accountability for projects within The Agency. Personally, I don’t care. I’m just glad we’re getting out of here.

We’re taking the campervan. Now we just want to be left alone to make our own place in the world. If we can.

Just before we start our journey, Mr Jones makes one last attempt to stop us.

“I understand why you’re upset.” He tries to be conciliatory. “And the last thing I would ever want to do is threaten you -.”


“You may have forgotten those poisonous capsules we implanted in your bodies -.”

I reach into my pocket. “Oh? You mean these?”

His jaw drops as I hand them to him.

“They were difficult to find,” I tell him. “But fortunately they’re made from metal and Dan has a special affinity for metallic substances.”

“You mean -.”

“It was painful,” I tell Jones. “But he got them out.”

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