Iris

by Nick Whitesides

  “Open it,” I command, digging in the knife for emphasis.

  “All right!” he says, holding up his BAND to the sensor. It pings, turning the screen green and the door sliding into the floor. Thin strips of light beam in from the other room.

  “Move.” I push him forward but he resists.

  “How did you break in here? You couldn’t have without prior knowledge.”

  “Move!” I feel a swift blow to my abdomen as Trenton elbows me, then slams my wrist against the wall. “You’re the dissenter from the Triad!”

  He takes advantage of my surprise and knees me in the stomach again, no doubt retaliating from our last encounter. I let go of the knife and kick him in the groin.

  He drops instantly, yelping in pain. With little time left, I drag him into the garage. Ten sleek autos lined up in a row, the light refracting off the black finish.

  “Which one is it?”

  Incoherent moans jumble out of his mouth.

  “Which one, Trenton?”

  He points over to the auto at the end.

  Losing my composure, I pick him up and shove him forward. “Start it up.”

  Another ping rings out as he opens the door and starts the engine, a low hum droning as it idles in place.

  “Why are you doing this, Krys?” he asks me, out of breath.

  “Why would you betray the IRIS? You were an SIO. You were pardoned by the Council and then you turned your back on us. Why?” His sincerity jerks my heart for a second, letting remorse coat over my indignant vengeance.

  “The IRIS is a lie.” I take the blunt end of the knife and strike the back of his head, leaving him slumbering once more against the cool asphalt. The tires of the auto squeal as I pull out. It’s safer to break with this than on foot.

  Having never driven before, I seem to do well enough even with one hand, going off of what I’ve seen Jathom do. The ramp curves up and out to the north entrance, then I head straight for my target. The Host Server. I slam on the brakes suddenly and pull over to the sidewalk.

  The schematics! They got drenched in the sewers! Opening the pack, I take out the soggy, ink smeared pages. Horrified, I scream in pure agony.

  “You idiot! You destroyed the only map to Host Server! No!”

  I’ll have to go off of memory. Hatred for my idiocy lingers as I fume with unforgiving repugnance. As I approach the gigantic skyscraper, I push out those feelings; readying myself for the next step.

  I can see the blueprints in my mind, but the details are hazy. Come on Krys, remember. Where is the Host Server? A vague arrow points to the top from what I can recall. Was it at the top? That makes the most sense for now.

  I pass a few unsuspecting Atlases along the way, none of them paying me any attention. It’s not unusual for an Arbiter to be called out at all hours of the night. The gap between the two Triad buildings leaves a perfect opening, displaying the Cathedral in all its oppressive splendor.

  I drive forward into the square, repressing all the Cleansings I was forced to witness. Stinging tears build up as my fury engorges.

  “You did this to me.” My foot slams on the break while the other holds down the acceleration. White smoke spews from the tailpipe, sending out whiffs of burnt rubber as the tires shriek against the pavement. “You killed my Father.”

  The numbers on the dashboard ascend. Forty… fifty… sixty. . . “You killed Eli.” The auto scoots forward, the brakes unable to keep it still. “You killed Jathom!” The smoke turns dark, the revving engine crying out, catching the attention of a few appearing SIO’s.

  “It’s your fault. I hate you!” I scream, releasing the brake and launching the auto at the front of the Cathedral. Seconds before the crash, I jump out the door and roll to a stop; lifting my head just in time to see the impact.

  The glass doors implode against the heavy vehicle as it smashes inside. Instantly, the alarms start blaring but are then drowned out by shattering glass and flames as the auto explodes into pieces; sending a giant fireball up into the night sky with a thunderous bang.

  A powerful euphoria detonates within me, simultaneously, watching the fire spread; purging all my past fears. “As a former dependent of the city of Pura, I sentence you to Cleansing!”

  Chapter 19 Cleansing

  Thick waves of black smoke, gush out from within the white walls of the imposing superstructure. I watch in disbelief as Pura’s symbol of control, begins to slowly burn away into ashes; replicating the surrounding wasteland. Shouts echo from the on looking SIO’s who have turned their focus to the Cathedral.

  I don’t care if they find me. I’ve already done more than any dependent could dream. For now, I’ll enjoy the spectacle. Heavy drops of water spray onto the flames, dousing them until the fire all but dies out. Billowing white smoke replacing the black. Of course. I shouldn’t be surprised.

  “Krys!” A familiar voice calls out to me. I swivel to my left in response. Leina stands at the foot of the Triad, waving me over frantically. “Hurry!” She darts inside. She didn’t turn me in at the fields. I have no reason not to trust her now.

  I sprint away from the fading inferno, my legs moving faster than ever before. Distant lights of oncoming autos weave in and out of the darkness towards the explosion. Two SIO’s exit the front, a man and a woman, as I reach the bottom of the stairs.

  “What the—” says the man in confusion, reaching for the firearm in his holster. A first class. He points the gun at me and fires. He missed! The echoes of my rapid steps summon vivid memories of me walking up them as a new SIO.

  I grab the side of the barrel, yank the pistol free, then redirect it and fire. BANG! BANG!

  I had to. I repeat to myself. I had to.

  The atrium is still as enormous as I remember, especially when it’s empty; with Leina nowhere to be seen. Where did she go? I hold my breath and listen for the sounds of retreating footsteps… Nothing.

  Why would she lead me here, then run off? The answer comes as soon as I ask the question, Brutus. Not again. I couldn’t navigate well enough the last time, and every Atlas in Pura will be swarming the Cathedral.

  My own words come back to me. Is one life out of 100,000 worth it? I glance at the doors, then forward to the maze-like corridors. “She is.” If I had my other hand I’d feel more confident, I’ll have to get used to the disadvantage and rely on stealth for now.

  My clothes reek from the sewer water, but are dry enough for me to move uninhibited. I travel close to the walls, keeping out of sight. Normally, there would be a handful of SIO’s on watch. Hopefully they were drawn out by the fire as well.

  Each movement is calculated with extreme accuracy. When I approach a four way, I peak around the corners before moving on, placing my ears against the walls to listen for nearby voices. All is quiet. It puts me on edge, dissolving my apathy into trepidation.

  So this is how Alvah felt about her mother disappearing. Brutus is a first class SIO. He killed his own trainer to prove his loyalty to the Council and the IRIS. Leina… is trying to help me. I disband my initial reluctance, giving in fully to the deep rooted concern I’ve been suppressing.

  I have to find her. I will find her this time. We’ll undo the IRIS together. Voices patrol down the other side of the hallway. I press myself flat against the wall as they dissipate. “Everyone stick to with your partners.”

  They’ll be securing the perimeter in the next few minutes. We need to leave as soon as possible. But I’m not even sure which building I’m in.

  My mouth dries up as a powerful thirst disrupts my focus. I lean my arm against the wall, resting my head. The adrenaline is wearing off while the SIO pills have waned completely. The soreness from the crash begins to set, stiffening my joints; beckoning my body to rest.

  But I can’t fulfill that request just yet. I don’t think I’ll ever get another night’s sleep. I wipe my forehead and psyche myself up. You can’t let Brutus kill her. You can’t. I stick the gun in my pocket, the full weight of guilt bleeding into
my ruthlessness.

  No one else is going to die tonight if I can help it. I quiet down, unsure if some anomaly resounded from afar. I try to calm myself to listen better, every heartbeat pounding like a missile. “Slow it down.” I say, taking in deep breaths. “Slow it down.” Motionless I wait, with hypervigilance, for the sound to repeat itself; the seconds dragging on mercilessly.

  Sweat drips down my battered body, bones bruised and muscles inflamed from the constant damage. But I push it away. I can’t be distracted. Chills course down my spine as a nearly imperceptible yells sounds out. I turn my head right toward the next dimly lit hall. In a moment of pure instinct, I let out a primal shout and run.

  “Leina!” The corners of my eyes blur with a hint of tears. “Leina!” I scream again. The hall curves around leading me to a tall, open room with: desks, chairs, computers and other devices. This is where the SIO’s analyze the daily BAND recordings. From the other end of the room I see her.

  “Leina!” Blood has stained her forehead, dripping onto the gray uniform with cuts streaking across her torso.

  “Krys!” she strides weakly.

  I blitz forward, almost knocking her down; throwing my arms around her neck and squeezing tight. The relief is sweet as the fear expels with every prolonged sigh. How I wish we could stay in this moment. Right here, forever.

  “It’s really you?” she cries, clinging to me, then looks at me with those hypnotic eyes. They water when she asks again, “It’s really you?”

  I respond shakily, “Yes, it’s really me.” She coughs violently, covering her mouth with a crimson hand. “Krys! We have to hurry, he’s coming,” she heaves, out of breath.

  “Okay, let’s go.” I reply, placing her arm over my shoulder. Her sticky clothes glue to mine leaving patches of red on my shirt. The cuts aren’t deep, she’ll live. She trips after a few steps, groaning in pain. Effortlessly, I scoop her up and stomp towards the exit.

  “Where are your SIO pills?” I ask.

  “In my office. We need to pass by there anyways. Did you really blow up the Cathedral?”

  I smile, unable to hide my pride. Just a few feet away from the hallway entrance, a loud bang rings out behind me. My body reacts before I can process it, instinctively ducking down behind the closest desk.

  “I knew it was you!” belts out a manic voice. Three more deafening shots fire just above us. “The moment those two sentries cancelled the injunction, I knew you’d return for her.”

  Leina coughs again, spitting spots of blood onto my chest. I lay her down as gently as I can. Placing the gun in her hands, I whisper, “Stay down.”

  Brutus footsteps give away his position, strafing thirty feet from me. Quietly, I sneak off; moving in-between desks til I circle round to the other side unheard. His heels position, preparing to turn around; so I dash behind one of four thin pillars that hold up the ceiling.

  “What is this?” he demands. “Where are you?” The confusion is obvious in his tone. He underestimated my developed stealth. He’s still the better fighter, but I hold the advantage. “You’ve gotten better since we last met.” His sinister grin chills me out of the corner of my eye. “Good, this will make things more fun. Tell you what, I won’t even use my gun.”

  He trots to the middle of the room while I shimmy along the pillar to avoid being seen. “Besides, I want to have you begging for death before I kill you.” He and Fash would have gotten along just fine. Zigzagging in and out of the blanched desks, I whisk to the far left of the room.

  The clank of his gun against the dark and transparent floor tiles, resonates all around. A clear keyboard lays atop each desk. I reach over and steal one, adjusting my grip. Brutus has both of his arms raised high as if to say ‘Here I am.’

  I pitch the keyboard across the room, smacking one of the thin computer screens. His neck twists in that direction, ready for an attack. I advance closer while he’s distracted. “I don’t like games, Krys,” he gripes impatiently. I grab another one and toss it at my last position. His head whips around again and runs to the noise.

  “Come out!” The more I get under his skin, the more distracted he’ll be. Then I’ll strike. I raise my hand and smack it against the desk closest to me. Looking all around, he dashes to the opposite direction, thinking I’ve gone that way. Now’s my chance!

  His free hand runs through his hair out of frustration. This leaves me with just enough of an opening to go on the offensive. Out of the darkness, I charge; ripping out the knife underneath my shirt.

  Everything turns to slow motion as I close the distance to my prey; thrusting my knife at his sternum. With incredible speed he counters with his own knife; a thin double-edged white blade with a matching white handle.

  The impact of the two metals rings out a high pitched ting. I take a step back, holding the knife up in a defensive combat position. Unbridled elation seeps into every pore of his twisted face.

  “I can’t believe it. You almost had me!” He chuckles, twirling his knife with gleeful anticipation; baring a monstrous smile. “I’m impressed. And it takes a lot to impress me.” Without saying another word, he swipes at me furiously, the blade leaving streaks of white. He’s so fast! I can barely keep up.

  Somehow, I manage to deflect each strike; countering with a few swipes of my own. He steps backwards, chest heaving with exhilaration, then attacks again. Choking out a demented laugh. “Yes, yes, yes!” He says hitting harder and harder. “That’s it, put up a good fight. Your life depends on it!” he mocks viciously, pushing me against one of the pillars.

  “I’m going to kill your whore first and make you watch.” Fury ignites within me, as Brutus’s face is replaced with Fash’s. He licks the tip of his blade and rears it back to plunge into my stomach. Just before he does, I snort and spit in his face.

  This halts him enough for me to move away. Pure, loathsome disgust wears across his visage. Mouth hanging open, his eyes widened, making perfect circles. The veins in his neck and forehead throbbing.

  “How dare you! You sucio!” He flings the saliva off with his fingers, his red eyes bulging out of their sockets; twitching involuntarily from the rage.

  Then, without warning, he pounces; hacking and swinging without any restraint. He cuts my shoulder, then my neck, then stabs my side; the warm liquid spilling down to my chest. I block his fourth attack when a warning screeches from his BAND, then I pound his forehead with the bud of the knife; followed up with a front kick to the chest.

  The gashes rip open more from my movements. Brutus springs to his feet, ready to go another round. At this rate, I don’t know if I can kill him. I don’t want to. I don’t want to kill anyone again if it can be helped. So many faces haunt me when I close my eyes. The two SIO’s I shot adding to the list. But if I don’t, he’ll kill me and Leina. I have no choice. I am going to have to kill him.

  I turn my blade so it’s facing right side up and stand straight. “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

  “You’re gonna be sorry,” he retorts with a cruel laugh. I rush him with increased speed, slashing with the full intent to kill. Unprepared for my swing, the blade slices his forearm; spraying a thin line of blood onto the ground. Then I swing straight down and cut off part of his ear.

  He screams and holds it with his hand.

  “I didn’t want it to be this way, Brutus.”

  Removing his hand, he looks at the blood. An unexpected timidness roots into his facial features. “What have you done? I’m… I’m bleeding.”

  Seeing his weakened confidence tempts me to pity him. “We all bleed, Brutus. You’re human like the rest of us.”

  My words only seem to make him more irate. Displaying the now bloody forearm, his face twists into a snarl. “Look what you did! No one has ever spilled my blood!”

  The warnings on his BAND flash one after another, his anger getting the better of him. I watch the countdown as his heart rate rises, the last five seconds turning into deep bongs and then his muscles contort all at once. He fa
lls down, seizing. I let out a sigh of relief and turn around. Leina emerges from behind the hiding spot.

  “What happened?” she asks, still holding her stomach. I open my mouth to reply when I’m caught off guard by footsteps. As I turn my head, Brutus is in mid-air holding his blade downwards; his mouth wide open with blood on his teeth.

  “No!” His knife pierces an inch into my chest when a shot rings out; a bullet passing right between his eyes. His body smacks down limply, his eyes wide open. Smoke trickles out from the muzzle of the gun Leina holds with trembling fingers; unable to look away from the bleeding carcass.

  I put up my arms in a disarming manner. “Leina, are you okay?” Her chest rises and falls, struggling to quelch the flooding hysteria. “Leina?” I say again, taking the gun away.

  Her eyes meet mine, sinking deeply. “We need to go,” I say gently, imitating my Father’s tone.

  “I’ve never killed anyone before,” she laments, returning her gaze to Brutus.

  In the blur of all that’s happened, I’m unable to find the right words; settling for an inadequate “I know,” and press her cheek against my chest.

  “Come on, we need to move,” I nudge her softly.

  “Krys, I just shot a first class SIO. A member of the execution squad. I’ll be put to death for this! Why did you come back? What did I do this for?”

  “Leina, I can deactivate every BAND in Pura.”

  “What?” I let her pull away from my grasp, lock eyes and tap the still unpowered device on my arm.

  “We can, together.”

  She lets out a long exhale, composing herself, then gives me a confirming nod.

  “Ok. I’m in,” she relents and we exit together, discarding the empty vessel that so frequently infected my peace of mind. “We’re not going to get anywhere without my pills.”

  It’s easy to discern her attempts to distract from the traumatic encounter. The emotional suppression so inherent in dependents; a symptom of living according to the IRIS. She tries wiping away at stray tears with discretion.