Stuck

by Samantha Durante

  Either that, or the Developer had set this up as yet another way to mess with her head; another way to remind her of all the destruction her misplaced trust had caused – all their manipulation had caused, really.

  Gone. Everything was gone.

  Lizzie couldn’t stomach looking at the desolation that was Raptor for one minute longer. There was no way this was an accident.

  So much for all the Engineers’ talk about every life in Paragon being necessary, Lizzie scoffed to herself.

  Liars.

  Her blood boiling, Lizzie closed the file and moved on to the next. This one was focused on the area a few clicks north of Raptor’s former site. At least she wouldn’t have to stare at that recriminating hole in the ground any longer.

  Her innards in a knot, she set the footage to triple speed and scanned the trees for any sign of life, her mind reeling with questions almost as fast as the film.

  Did anyone survive?

  Could the resistance really be finished?

  Were the Engineers actually behind the explosion?

  And what were she and Alex and Deion supposed to do about any of it without the rebels’ help?

  She paused the playback and sat back in her chair, exhaling a heavy breath.

  How did everything go so wrong?

  Lizzie closed her eyes and tried to push the thoughts away. She tried to swallow the guilt.

  She’d done the best she could, with the information she had. She had to believe that. She had to.

  After a few more breaths, she could feel the tension in her shoulders beginning to release. But it wasn’t enough.

  She needed to get out of this room.

  Pushing back from the desk, Lizzie’s hand slipped, inadvertently activating the slide gesture for the zoom control. The focused area of the screen magnified several times and Lizzie raised her hand to dismiss the window.

  But before she performed the close gesture, something caught her eye. And her heart began to race.

  Could it be?

  There, at the edge of a clearing, set between the trees – something that looked startlingly like the outlines of a face.

  Lizzie frantically slid her fingers apart to zoom further.

  This close up, even an ultra-high resolution image was pixelated and blurry, so she couldn’t be sure…

  But for the first time in weeks, something like hope clenched her heart.

  Lizzie knew at least one training mission had been off-base at the time of the blast. And they should have been much further from ground zero than even she had been…

  If Lizzie survived, it wasn’t out of the question that others had as well.

  She checked the timestamp on the file. It was only a week old. If the rebels were camped out in that area, they couldn’t have gotten far.

  Which meant that Paragon could find them, too. She couldn’t let that happen.

  Opening an older file with the same geotag, Lizzie copied a clip of the same shot from another date and replaced the few seconds of film that featured the face. Playing it back, the transition was nearly undetectable, especially if it was running at 2x or higher speed, as anyone who would be reviewing this footage would almost certainly be.

  Lizzie saved the file and carefully closed all the open folders, eliminating any evidence of tampering.

  She just prayed no one checked the metadata and saw that the file had been edited – though she reasoned she could always play that off as a beginner’s mistake.

  If the rebels were still out there, that meant she wasn’t alone. It meant they might be able to get help.

  It meant maybe this wasn’t over just yet.

  36. CARNAGE

  It was carnage. Pure and total carnage. Alessa couldn’t think of another word to describe it.

  It had been hours since their test run with the Stuck attack, but still the ground was sodden with something Alessa didn’t want to think about, something that left a red-brown tinge around the edge of her boots. She tried not to look too closely at the forest floor; the last time she’d let her eyes focus, they’d landed on a stray limb.

  But she didn’t need her eyes to tell her what had transpired here. She could feel it.

  Confusion. Terror. Pain.

  Death.

  She could feel each one of the soldiers’ ends, relive their last moments. The crushing anguish. The throbbing fear. The unbearable physical agony.

  The Stuck had performed, all right, had barely even taken any losses. And against this unified, murderous horde, the company of Paragon’s fighters never stood a chance.

  But all Alessa could feel was remorse.

  She spied blood-spattered leaves fluttering in the breeze, and Alessa grimaced, her face flushing.

  This was not okay.

  And she’d given the order.

  Bile stung the back of her throat.

  Isaac had been surveying the site as well, his lips drawn in a tight line. He looked up at her across the clearing. “Less…?”

  Noticing her distress, Isaac swiftly crossed the glade, his boots squelching in the mud as he folded her into his arms. “Hey. Hey,” he questioned gently. “What’s going on?”

  Her lungs constricting like a vice, she couldn’t choke the words out, could only look up into the blue of his eyes, so startlingly beautiful against this backdrop of horror.

  Regret welled in her eyes.

  “Hey,” Isaac soothed again. “Talk to me.”

  Finally, the words broke free and spilled out in a torrent.

  “We can’t do this, Isaac. We can’t bring them to Paragon. We can’t.”

  Isaac gulped, unsure how to respond. “I know this looks pretty… brutal… but they got the job done. Far better than we could have ever managed on our own.”

  She shook her head, mania rising up in her chest. “No.”

  He couldn’t feel what she could. He couldn’t understand.

  This could not happen again.

  What had she been thinking?

  “Alessa,” Isaac debated, “no one likes it, but this is war. Think of all Paragon has done. This –” he motioned at the bodies strewn in the immediate area, “– is just a drop in the bucket.”

  A vision of a literal pail overflowing with blood rose unbidden in Alessa’s mind, complete with a figment of herself dipping her hands in the viscous crimson and smearing it lustily over her face.

  She fought back a gag.

  “If the situation were reversed,” Isaac reasoned, “you know they wouldn’t hesitate. And neither would Regina,” he added.

  He was right, of course. Their chips were down, and this was pretty much their only chance at a comeback.

  But at what cost?

  Yes, the Stuck were sure to annihilate the Engineers, and anyone else who stood in their path. But there were innocent people inside Paragon, too.

  Just because Regina and Paragon’s elusive leaders chose to lead a certain way didn’t mean it was the only way.

  In this moment, regardless of whatever desire she might harbor for payback, it had become strikingly, painfully clear that the ends did not justify the means.

  What had she done?

  Alessa took a deep, shuddering breath, and steeled her resolve.

  No, she absolutely could not risk it. The citizens of Paragon had paid a heavy enough price as it was. The Engineers had taken everyone they loved. And then Regina’s quest for retribution had brought far too many of them to their own graves.

  Alessa could not continue the trend. It would stop today.

  “Isaac,” she responded, her voice quiet but firm. “We need to find another plan.”

  37. ACTION

  Deion had done his best to act normal over the past five days, but it was no use – he just couldn’t get what Lizzie had shown them out of his head. And the mundane tasks he’d been assigned to all week – today was cleaning duty in the efficiency unit’s showers – had only highlighted the mindboggling disconnect between the Paragon he’d thought he’d known,
and what was really happening underneath it all. He felt sick and restless and powerless and just so incredibly mad.

  He thrust the mop into the bucket with a little more force than was strictly necessary, the murky water splashing to the floor in every direction. And then, for the thousandth time that day, he wiped it up, taking with it all the filth and grime that’d built up on tile. What he wouldn’t give to be able to really clean up Paragon so easily.

  Sighing, Deion glanced at his watch. It was time for a break.

  He stashed his mop against the nearest stall and headed outside into a bright, warm afternoon that felt totally incongruous with the turmoil in his soul. Paragon suddenly felt like an alien planet in so many different ways.

  Approaching from down the block, Deion could see that Alex was back at his wall, a pained look on his face as he took it apart. He seemed to be strategically scattering the stones across the ground to look like they’d been the epicenter of some kind of destruction. He was, of course, shirtless.

  At least some things never changed, Deion laughed to himself.

  “I knew that thing wasn’t going to last,” Deion called out in greeting.

  Alex paused and looked up. “I’m trying to remind myself that sometimes the best art is fleeting.” He sighed melodramatically.

  Deion raised an eyebrow in the direction of his friend’s bare torso. “Expecting a visitor?”

  Alex feigned indignity. “This is backbreaking work! I’m getting overheated as it is. I might have to take my pants off next,” he taunted.

  Deion guffawed despite his foul mood. “What time is she getting here?”

  Alex resumed placing the rock he was holding and answered without looking up from his task. “Any minute.” He could barely contain the grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

  Smiling and shaking his head, Deion reflected that life was certainly less complicated before they met Lizzie, but he’d also never seen Alex quite so smitten with, well, anything really.

  As if on cue, the sound of quiet footsteps rang in Deion’s ears and he turned to find Lizzie sauntering up the street as if she owned the place, her thick golden locks streaming out behind her.

  The girl was not lacking for confidence, he had to give her that. And the hungry gleam in Alex’s eyes made it clear he couldn’t get enough of it.

  Lizzie broke into a wide, dazzling smile when she saw Alex’s expression, and Deion busied himself looking at his watch. If this break lasted too much longer, he might start feeling like a third wheel…

  “Hey!” Lizzie’s voice was bright and upbeat, more so than Deion would have expected possible for someone who’d been through all she had. How did she manage it? “Deion, I’m glad you’re here – I wanted to talk to you both.”

  Alex, to his credit, didn’t show even a twinge of jealousy at her attentions; Deion supposed Alex had never really been lacking for confidence, either. And it was a good thing, too, because Deion didn’t know how you could date a woman like Lizzie otherwise – she was a formidable match on every level, never mind her looks.

  Judging by the dauntless glint in her eyes, Deion had a feeling that the next words out of her mouth would prove just how true that assessment was. Reaching them, she glanced around to ensure they were alone and then said conspiratorially, “What do you say we ditch this joint and reignite the rebellion?”

  Looking both amused and impressed, Alex joked, “I dunno, my schedule is pretty packed…”

  Lizzie just elbowed him in the ribs and turned expectantly to Deion.

  “Well, what did you have in mind?” Deion replied, more curious than he would have expected of himself. Just a few short weeks ago the thought of leaving Paragon would have turned his stomach with fear, but knowing what he now knew, it was staying that seemed inconceivable.

  “It’s not without risks, obviously,” Lizzie conceded. “And it may be a bust. But I saw something on the satellite feeds… I think maybe some of the resistance may have survived.”

  That definitely piqued Deion’s interest.

  “We’re listening,” Alex intoned, stepping closer and cupping her upper arm.

  Lizzie explained what she’d come across while editing the footage for the drama and how she suspected that the squad who was out on a training mission during the nuclear detonation may have made it.

  “And if I’m right,” she concluded, her words hushed but animated, “we could have quite the team out there. Carlos, our head of militia, and several talented fighters that he’d brought to test out some powerful weapons. Isaac and Alessa, some of our top agents. Alicia, our medical expert. It’s only a fraction of what we had,” she qualified, her eyes darkening, “but it’s not nothing. If we can find them, I bet we could come up with a plan.”

  Alex glanced quickly to Deion for confirmation, and it was apparent they were having the same thought: how could they turn down this chance?

  They’d already spent too long living in ignorance, blind to the horrors happening right under their noses. Sure, he was scared of what they might encounter outside the compound, but Lizzie had shown them that the worst of the monsters were living within Paragon’s walls – and he wasn’t thinking of the Stuck. There was nothing left for them here anymore. If there was something they could do to change things – even if it cost them their lives – they had to try.

  Alex turned back to Lizzie and replied, “We’re game.”

  The only way Deion was getting through this day was denial. Having valiant intentions was one thing; actually doing the damn thing? That, he was finding, was another.

  Lizzie’s plan was no joke. The more Deion thought about what they were intending to do, the more he realized he needed to just not think about it.

  And so that was what he was doing now. Head down, focused on the day’s menial tasks, not allowing his mind to wander to the fact that by this time tomorrow, they would be far from Paragon’s gates, on their own in a barren world he had not experienced in nearly a decade, with untold horrors waiting around every corner.

  Either that, or they would be very possibly dead.

  Nope, definitely wouldn’t do anyone any good to think of that.

  And so Deion plugged away, pretending to the world and especially to himself that today was a day like any other, and it would end just like every other day had for the past nine-plus years.

  Only it wasn’t. And it most absolutely would not.

  As dusk drew a blanket of lilac and tangerine across the sky, Deion’s heart quickened to a gallop, the pace increasing with every minute he stood outside the dining hall waiting for Alex to arrive. Deion couldn’t deny it any longer – this was really happening.

  The appointed time came, and Alex ambled up the street, an unnatural calm infused into his gait. He guessed Alex was in denial, too.

  They met wordlessly at the door, and turned into the cafeteria together, quickly grabbing their trays and finding a quiet seat amongst the few remaining stragglers finishing their meals. They ate in near-silence, keeping a discreet eye on their neighbors as the cafe slowly emptied and the workers on duty cleared out the buffet trays one by one and disappeared into the back to clean up.

  It was time.

  Alex motioned with his eyes towards the door beside the kitchen entrance that Lizzie had indicated they head for. Deion glanced around, confirming they were alone, and nodded in affirmation.

  Hearts racing, they each grabbed the remainder of their meals and walked briskly but casually towards the tray deposit. Glancing through the kitchen window as they emptied their plates, they double checked that no one was within sight, then quickly shuffled over to the door. Alex withdrew the stolen access card Lizzie had given him earlier that day and swiped it to unlock the door. They passed through, closing it gently behind them with a click.

  Deion and Alex looked at each other in the dim stairwell.

  “So far so good,” Alex shrugged.

  “We’re really going through with this, right?” Deion hissed, girding hi
s nerves for the next phase of the plan.

  “We’re really doing it,” Alex affirmed, though his voice still sounded as disbelieving as Deion felt, despite the allegretto pounding away in his chest.

  Taking a deep breath, the friends descended the stairs into the utility area of the building, finding themselves – as Lizzie had promised – in a narrow basement tunnel that connected several different buildings on the supply chain for Paragon’s food halls. Deion had heard that such a network existed, but his own shifts had never given him cause to use one.

  Now he only hoped that anyone who did have cause to use this particular route had already finished their work and headed off to their efficiency unit for the night.

  Apparently having the same thought, Alex paused and picked up a box of potatoes that was stashed on the side of the hallway. He nodded for Deion to do the same. “If anyone asks, we’re bringing these excess rations to the warehouse for cold storage.”

  Deion felt slightly better having a cover story, but only slightly.

  They paced quickly down the hallway, parsing the numbered signs on the walls as they traversed the underground equivalent of several blocks. Finally, they reached their destination.

  “Here’s our stop,” Alex stated. “The garage.”

  Deion deposited his box beside the door, his limbs feeling shaky from a sudden rush of adrenaline as he realized this was it: the point of no return.

  Alex piled his decoy box on top of Deion’s and reached for the doorknob. “Let’s go.”

  Inside, the large open space was deserted, the sparse bluish security lighting reflecting off the rows of charging vehicles that were utilized by Paragon’s various operations workers.

  Alex withdrew a key fob from his pocket – another gift from Lizzie – and clicked it twice. A few rows over, flashing orange headlights and one quick beep drew their attention to a sleek white van that Deion recognized as a typical rig for distributing food and supplies across the colony.

  But as they headed toward the vehicle, Deion and Alex realized they weren’t the only ones whose attention the van had roused.

  Before they could duck out of view, brisk footsteps rounded the far corner of the row and a smallish woman with an inquisitive expression emerged from beside the cars. She was wearing the compound’s standard-issue jumpsuit, holding a wrench in one hand and a greasy rag in the other. She spotted Alex and Deion immediately.