Jonas~~
Florescent lights. A blurred face framed in the color blonde. A mouth that moves without words.
I slip into darkness.
*****
There are hands on my arms. I only see darkness but I can feel them pushing up my sleeve, pulling at the bandage wrapped around my Mark.
I try moving my arm, but it feels as if weights have been sewn inside it.
A dream.
I must be in a dream.
*****
Bluish light hits my eyes, and I squint. Vienna crouches before me, her hand on my Marked arm where my Expiration Date is. And I feel her skin there, on mine. Nothing in between us.
I try jerking my arm but wince when it doesn't move more than an inch. "V . . ." I can't get her name out, my lungs too heavy.
I'm in what appears to be the back of a work van. Behind Vienna are two people, a man and a woman, shackled to the wall. They look vaguely familiar and appear to be asleep.
To my right is another woman, chained as well. I squint again, trying to make her out.
It's my aunt, Bently's mother. An Amoris.
Vienna grabs hold of my shoulders, forcing my attention to her.
I open my mouth but she move her hands, one covering my mouth, the other pointed at an opening at the top of the wall on my left.
I nod.
She pulls out her phone and moves to the man. His hair is blonde, his skin white, and my vision is still blurred, but it's possible there are freckles dotting his cheeks. I've seen him before. Spoken with him, I'm sure.
Vienna pushes up the sleeve of his cotton shirt, revealing his Expiration Date. He stirs, his eyes opening, and I drop my gaze before I can see what color his eyes are.
Vienna holds her phone above his Mark and taps the screen before pulling the sleeve back down.
She returns to me, her phone now in her back pocket, a small knife replacing its spot in her hand. "They want to know your Date." She keeps her voice low and points at my Mark with the knife.
And I understand.
Even so I try curling in on myself, my heart racing. It's too soon after receiving whatever they drugged me with, and my head swims in response.
Vienna places her hand on my shoulder. "Do you think they will—"
She breaks off. There are Amoris present, but I know she was trying to ask if the rebels would kill me.
"Aren't you one of them?"
"The Society would say I am." Her eyes flick to the wall on my left. "I don't know what the rebels would say."
I know what has to happen to my Mark. My stomach churns, but even so I say, "Do it."
Biting her lip, she moves closer to my arm. Her hand and the knife wobble as she positions the blade over my Mark.
I shake my head, and she draws back. The shackle is positioned on my wrist, and I can move my arm up and down slightly. I only need the 4 to be unreadable, and then probably the 1, so they don't know I'm not supposed to live past this decade. The year is what matters.
I press my palms flat into the floor and push my left arm forward as much as possible in the shackle.
This has to be done.
I start to raise myself up, fighting through the fog that still clings to my body and the
pain as the top rim of the shackle digs into my skin. There's burning but it's different than what I've often felt around Amoris since I Expired. It's sharp and targeted and feels like a bite.
When I collapse, there's blood on my wrist, but I can't tell if I've done anything to my Mark.
I may end up just bleeding out, and this will be for nothing.
Vienna cuts off a piece of her shirt, wrapping it right above the shackle and looks me in the eyes. "I can do it."
I grunt. "Do you have any more of what you used to knock me out?"
"It's still in your system. It'd be too much of a risk." She slices a piece of my shirt and holds the scrap to my month. I open, biting down on it.
I'm grateful to have the distraction when she starts carving. She begins with the year. The 4 and then the 1. The year that has been with me since the day I was born, when the Mark was tattooed onto my skin in ink that was imbued with drops of pure Amorian blood to keep it forever intact.
My teeth dig into the fabric as tears roll down my cheeks. There's no getting away from the pain.
This won't be the first time someone destroys their Mark, but I've never known of a Preeminence that mutilated his.
A disgrace, they'd call it.
She reaches the eight in the day I was supposed to die in the explosion my cousin set off.
The day that foretold the tragic death of a young Preeminence only a few days into his reign.
Instead of cutting it, she pulls away. Blood runs down my arm, and she uses another piece of her shirt to tie it around the parts from which she's cut away. "Should I keep going?"
She's carved enough of the numbers for no human to know my exact Expiration Date. I have a feeling that once these cuts start to heal, they'll have to be ripped open again before they'll remain unreadable.
Do I have her slice away the rest of the Date that's kept me company throughout the entirety of my life?
"Jonas?" my aunt asks. With the cloth in my mouth, I can't answer.
I shake my head at Vienna. If I make it out of this, I want part of this Expired Mark. A reminder that I did what should have been impossible and lived past my Expiration Date.
The loss of blood makes my head swim, and as Vienna cuts and wraps a piece of my shirt around the fabric that's already there, trying to stanch the blood flow, darkness rises to greet me.