I’m scared, Hades thought as the darkness encroached upon the edges of his vision. I don’t want to die. Not like this.
There was still so much he wanted to do, things he hadn’t even thought of until this very moment. So much he wanted to see.
So much he would never have.
Is this what the people I killed felt like?
Where was the light? Was it night already? Was he going back into the tank?
He was seeing through the hatch of the deprivation tank, sinking into the darkness. He heard more voices and a wailing siren. It sounded so far away, though.
Sinking. Vanishing. Good night.
I don’t want to be alone anymore.
Darkness.
Good-bye.
Final Report:
Project Pandora
As police cruisers, ambulances, and SWAT vans swarmed the streets of Georgetown, Tyler watched Washington, D.C., disappear into the downpour. At first, it resembled a ruined labyrinth through the gray mist, reduced to jagged spires and vague suggestions of what once were walls. Then the city dissolved away entirely.
He closed his eyes and leaned into the upholstery, listening to the rain tap against the roof of the car. Thunder rumbled overhead, and the echo of sirens faded behind them.
He tried to forget about how Dr. Kosta had collapsed, his face a gory mess, but he couldn’t escape from the lasting image. He had a feeling it would stay in his mind forever.
Days ago, even mere hours ago, he wouldn’t have thought he was capable of conscious, cold-blooded murder. But when he had pulled the trigger, he had felt nothing. The action had been as natural as breathing, not even murder, just the obliteration of a greater evil. Necessary.
“We can never go home.” Like murder, the idea of leaving his foster house behind didn’t bother him as much as it once would have. His entire history had been built on the foundation of one great lie. He would never have to return to an empty house again or go to school and pretend like nothing was wrong, when the truth was that deep down, something was terribly wrong.
“We aren’t going home,” Shannon said, glancing at him. The tears had long since dried on her freckled face, and her delicate jaw was clenched in determination. He sensed she had changed, too, the moment she had pulled the trigger and shot the man on the stairwell.
But that was different. She had saved a life. Tyler had simply taken one.
They drove in silence for a while, and his racing heartbeat mellowed. The cold sweat dissolved on the nape of his neck, and the warm air rushing from the heaters dried his rain-drenched clothes.
Shannon took her gaze off the road to look at him from time to time. Once, she reached over and laid her hand on his leg. Her touch was warm, comforting. He reached down and squeezed her hand, and when their eyes met, an unspoken message passed between them.
You are not alone, her velvety brown eyes said. We are in this together. To the end.
When they turned onto the interstate, Tyler began telling Shannon about his final conversation with Dr. Kosta. She responded better than he expected, keeping her eyes on the road even as she listened to what he had to say.
“So, that’s it, then,” she said and gave a mirthless laugh. “Everything that I thought was me. None of it was.”
“That’s not true,” he said. “We’re still the same people we were yesterday and the day before that. Nothing has changed.”
“Except now we know who did this to us and where it all began. The Academy.”
“We have to go there,” Tyler said. “We have to stop this. There’s no other choice. I won’t let any more innocent lives be lost. Project Pandora will end with us.”
Acknowledgments
There are a number of people who I would like to thank for their role in making Project Pandora a reality.
First of all, I would like to thank my agent, Mallory Brown, who saw literary merit in what others might have dismissed as a good substitute for toilet paper. Your support has been invaluable, and I’m extremely grateful for it.
My editor, Jenn Mishler, whose guidance has helped shaped Project Pandora into what it is today. Without your wonderful input, I would still be staring at a 63,000 word manuscript, hopelessly lost. As well, I would like to thank everyone at Entangled Publishing for believing in me and making Project Pandora a reality.
Barbara Young of the NAU Honors Writing Center, whose encouragement and insight saved me from the pits of procrastination and more than a few treacherous plot holes. I’ll never be able to pass a bakery without thinking of the witty nicknames you gave my characters.
My critique partners, Brenda Marie Smith, Laura Creedle, and Diamond Wortham. Your recommendations allowed me to see my characters and plotline in a new light, and aided me in refining my manuscript into something I can be proud of.
Jacob Blair and Kerry Blair, for without your confidence-boosting encouragement, I probably wouldn’t have had the courage to try tackling a novel in the first place.
About the Author
Aden Polydoros grew up in Long Grove, Illinois. He is a writer of young adult fiction. When he isn’t writing, he enjoys reading and going on hikes. He is currently working toward his Bachelor of Science degree in Creative Media and Film.
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