My voice no longer echoes as the execution squad lines up, preparing to take their shots.
It won’t be long. But I won’t hang my head in shame.
“Ready,” one of them shouts. I square my shoulders, ready to receive my death with dignity. Surprisingly conflicted eyes peer through the slits of their helmets, as if to say, ‘I don’t want to do this.’
They’re going to have to nonetheless.
“Aim.” They straighten the sights and aim for my chest, my heart pounding wildly! Muffled stirrings come from the crowd.
This is it. If only I had a chance to say goodbye to Leina. To tell her ‘I love her.’ Or at least, that I loved her more than I ever thought possible. Her deep green eyes flash in my mind, drawing out a sigh. The last ounce of breath she would steal away. The palm of my hand covers the calloused skin over my heart as I puff out my chest. “I’m ready.”
Waiting for the guns to go off, my eyes are fixed on the glass of the Sphere that I so triumphantly traversed through. The crowd goes silent so I can breathe my last breath, my heart beating its last moments furiously. I coax my mind to dwell on something good before it’s forced to retire. Jathom, Eli, Leina, Maxis, all of them as the command shatters in my ears.
“Fire!” I ready myself for the impact. But nothing happens.
I look forward at the squad as Kalen had leapt from his seat and wrestles ferociously with the nearest guard.
“No! No! I won’t let you! Krys, run!” he screams.
“Fire!” Cornelus bellows, standing from his own seat.
Nothing again. My vision blurs as my strength wanes; my knees buckling under the weight of my body. I can’t hold on. Everything fades away into nothing, the colors swishing around as I close my eyes. The last sleep.
Out of the converging shadows are the words “Fire!” followed by six loud shots that sound all at once and then, darkness… In the darkness, a gentle knock taps upon a rotted door.
“I could hear you tossin’,”
“I don’t sleep very well anymore,” I reply in monotone.
“I can tell,” he quips with a smile. Putting his arm around my shoulder, he points at the dresser mirror and asks. “What do you see?”
Annoyed, I look into the cracked surface and say, “A decaying old house.”
With great enthusiasm, he ushers me to my feet and we take a step towards it. “Now what do you see?”
I sigh, “I see… the room?”
Taking another step closer, he repeats, “Now what do you see?”
The two of us fill every inch of the broken reflection. “Us?” I answer apathetically.
He slides to the side, out of frame. “Now… what do you see?”
With a huff, I look closely at my face. The heavy bags under my eye sockets, begging for sleep. The deep worry lines carved across my forehead. All I can see is weariness and fatigue and pain. That is, until a deep blue color catches my attention. My eyes. Mine. My own. I begin to open my mouth when he stops me.
“I don’t want you to tell me. . . I want you to tell yourself.” And with that, he pats my back and leaves.
I stood there for some time before they came to me. The first words I ever wrote with a free hand. The first words I chose to believe in. The first words I would willingly die for.
“I… see… me.”
Epilogue
I still hear it when I close my eyes, as if it were happening right in front of me. The buzzing alarms on the dashboard, the screeching of the incoming missiles, the chuffing of the helicopter blades.
I tore off the headphones and leapt from the pilot's seat as soon as Krys jumped. I felt the wind rushing in my ears as I fell, followed by the explosion. The ground came up fast, but I had to wait to pull the chord of the parachute.
I angled just enough to dodge any heavy wreckage that plummeted to the crowd below. At a hundred feet, I deployed the chute but it slammed my shoulder against the wall of the Cathedral. As the pavement calls me downwards, I open my eyes and awake in a cold sweat; wiping the moisture from my cheeks.
I’ve been crying in my sleep. Krys’s execution was yesterday. At first I was worried about them discovering me as his accomplice, but it seems the Council have greater things to draw their gaze.
I was lucky. Resyncing my BAND over and over, kept me from being tracked. I floated away to the north end of the Cathedral and discarded the parachute, then rejoined the other SIO’s.
No one knew. I thought it’d be harder to convince my superiors, but they accepted my story. I was one of the first to arrive at the scene, when I was abducted by the dissenter. He took me captive, forcing me to take the helicopter, and at the first chance to escape, I took it.
At least, that’s what I told them. I had to take a polygraph test to convince them further, but I’ve always been good at keeping secrets. It wasn’t hard to fake. Looking at my BAND, it reads 05:07 am.
I still have a few hours before I start the day. I lay myself back down and stare up at the ceiling.
I can’t stop seeing him in my dreams. From the day I met him, my life became… complicated. Why didn’t I just turn him in? Why did I let myself get so caught up in his talk of overthrowing IRIS and the Council? I even volunteered to oversee Atlas activity in the fields, just because of his story about those three granger adolescents.
Cold shivers cover every inch of my skin, so I curl into the sheets and roll onto my side as a dull ache burbles in my stomach. My body is still recovering. Unable to fall back asleep, I throw off the covers, ping on the lights, and pour myself a glass of water.
An open container of SIO pills stands atop the glossy kitchen counter. I scoop up half a dozen and swallow them. It helps dull the pain. I finish my drink and place the glass down hard.
Looking out the tinted window, the lights of Pura shine dimly and I think of him. I trace my lips with the edge of my fingertips and relive that moment in the Triad, a stolen kiss that was never meant to be.
It sends a warm sensation all throughout my body, until a harsh vibration breaks my daydream and brings back the ache in my stomach. I never used to get like this. I never used to get warnings. Almost never.
The glass shatters into pieces as, in a fit of anger, I chuck it against the chilled tile. Heaving from lack of breath, I move my matted hair out of my face and bend down to clean up the mess.
I can’t do this to myself anymore. First Jathom and now Krys. Anyone who gets close to me, get hurt. I let out a gasp as a shard pricks my finger; the blood leaking out with sluggish drips.
In the bathroom, I run cold water onto it. The soothing liquid washes out the red on my hands. I almost don’t recognize myself as I look into the mirror. My long blond hair is scattered everywhere and my lips have cracked from dryness.
I’ve never cared about my appearance. It doesn’t matter what you look like. You do your duty and you live. It’s as simple as that. I place a bandage over the cut as the bleeding has nearly stopped and then finish picking up the broken glass.
Well, I’m already awake. I ping open the fridge, make myself a plate and return to my bed to cuddle with the cool sheets. Longingly, I squeeze my pillow tightly, pretending for a moment that it was him.
A single tear sips out of the corner of my eye. I wipe it away and force them shut while a slight pressure builds on the front of my forehead. I rub at it and try to fall back asleep. The aching eventually subsides and I let my body go limp.
I hated him so much at first. For stealing away time with Jathom and for being rewarded for his crimes. But, something changed . . . My eyes shoot open as I’m greeted by the morning light. I kick the covers off, sit up and yawn; pulling my arms over my head.
Time to begin my routine. Outside, the dependents of Pura are stirring from their slumber. I stand up and check to see what time it is, only to be met with my own reflection; as the once brilliant light of my BAND is now extinguished.
AUTHOR BIO
Nick Whitesides is a musician, writer, and now
first time author, born and raised and still living in South Ogden, Utah. After composing over 600 original songs, Nick decided to try his hand at authorship. From a young age, he had an interest in philosophical questions and “what if” scenarios, this prompted the idea for his first full length novel “IRIS.”
Iris Page 30
