by Marina Epley
Chelsey frowns, still hesitating, then her expression becomes decisive.
“I’ll do it,” she says. “I’ll steal the control key. I always play dumb around the guards anyway, so they don’t take me seriously. I don’t think they’ll pay much attention to what I’m doing.”
“I believe in you,” I say. “You’re a good little actress and you’re really brave.”
“Thank you,” she utters, smiling slightly. This is a different kind of smile, shy and sincere. I begin feeling guilty for making Chelsey risk her life for me.
“Please don’t leave me behind,” she begs. “I’ll bring you the key. I’ll do anything you ask. Only help me get out of this place. I hate it here. I can’t stand all this killing and hearing all the cries all the time and…” She pauses, taking in a breath. “They wanted to make me a guard at first, and have me execute prisoners. I refused and they beat me really badly. They kept me in solitary with no food or light for a few days and I thought I’d go crazy. And then Guardian arrived.” Chelsey shivers at her painful memories. “He raised me up into the air to the very ceiling, then turned me upside down. He promised to break every single bone in my body if I didn’t agree to entertain you. And I knew he’d do it, I could feel it. It was just…”
She closes her eyes, becoming quiet. I let her recover. I still remember Guardian throwing me across the room and smashing me into a wall.
“Okay,” Chelsey says, getting to her feet. “I’d better go now. I have work to do.” She grins happily and adds, studying my face, “You’re different from what I first thought.”
Her words send a chill down my spine. I remember Christina saying almost the same things about me a few hours before she was shot. I get an image of little Lena leading me through prison passageways, helping to hunt down our enemies. A few minutes later she was dead. I become really worried that something bad may now happen to Chelsey. I seem to endanger anyone coming into close contact with me.
“Chelsey, if anything goes wrong, anything at all, stop immediately,” I say. “Please be careful and don’t get caught. I promise to take you with me, even if you don’t bring that key.”
“I want to help,” she interrupts. “I hate Guardian and want to do something to get back at him. And don’t worry. I won’t get caught.”
She knocks on the door and guards let her out of the room. I remain motionless for a few more minutes, thinking. I can’t understand whether I’m correct in trusting this girl. What if she rats me out, reporting my intentions to Guardian? What if he decides I’m too resistant and not worth the trouble? He’d probably simply waste me in that case.
The sounds of rifle fire outside become louder. I hear another scream. My head begins aching. I groan and lie down on the bed, pressing my left ear tightly against the pillow. This way I can’t hear much of anything.
I spend the rest of the day worrying and having doubts. I try to contact Kitty again, but don’t succeed. I feel ashamed for using Chelsey to help me escape. She’s already been used and abused by Elimination and Guardian, and here I am, talking her into risking her life. At the same time, I can easily imagine Chelsey marching straight to Guardian and telling him about my plans. And if even she doesn’t rat me out and does bring the key, what then? What exactly am I going to do tomorrow? How am I going to fight my way out past a few dozen guards?
An opening door makes me turn around. A short thin man with gray hair walks in. He’s in his late fifties, but his face is youngish-looking. He always wears a dark business suit and tie. In spite of my best effort, I become nervous.
“Good evening, my friend,” the man says softly. He has an overly soft voice and is always excessively polite. Nobody knows his real name, but he calls himself Guardian. He’s the very one who’s destroyed the country and ruined my life.
“Good evening, sir,” I answer.
“Are you excited about tomorrow’s parade?” he asks, watching me warily.
“Very excited, sir,” I assure him. “It will be great to finally meet the breakers we’ve liberated.”
“You’re a bad liar, Rex,” Guardian says. “Do you really think I don’t know you’re plotting an escape?”
I hold my breath. Chelsey must have ratted me out. I don’t have time to become disappointed or angry. The next moment a chair rises abruptly into the air. It flies across the room and smashes into the wall just inches above my head, splintering into many pieces.
He’s going to kill me, I realize.
Chapter 2
I freeze, sitting on the edge of the bed. I know I can’t put him under or fight with him in any way. All I can do is to try and conceal my frustration.
“I have to admit I’m a bit disappointed, my friend,” Guardian says. “I’ve given you everything a human being could ever hope for. From an average boy, I’ve developed you into a national hero. I’ve molded you into the primary commander of my army. And after everything I’ve done, you’re ungrateful enough to continue plotting against me. Behavior I find very disrespectful.”
“I’m not plotting anything, sir,” I answer.
I work hard on showing no emotion.
“I’m afraid you still don’t fully realize who I am,” Guardian says. “Telekinesis is not the only ability I possess. I’m also a strong telepath who can read your mind.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “I’m inside your head now and know well what you’re thinking,” he adds.
The next moment an invisible force grabs me and throws me against the floor. The tremendous impact knocks my breath out of my lungs. I’m dragged across the room and slammed into a wall. Pain pierces my body. I hear Guardian laughing. I know I can’t fight back, but instinctively begin swinging my arms and kicking at the air. I’m trying to fight off whatever is holding me. Nothing works. I’m totally defenseless. Still tightly pressing me against the wall, he raises me up to the ceiling.
I gasp for air. My head begins spinning. I’ve been tortured and beaten many times before, but nothing comes close to this experience. It’s something indescribable and surreal, like something straight out of a horror movie or really bad dream.
“Do you really think you’re so unique or special?” I hear Guardian’s voice below. “You’re nothing unless I will it. Completely worthless. I can easily find a suitable replacement. Level 4 breakers are not such a rare breed. So you should feel very lucky I chose you solely based on propaganda considerations. Serving me is the only purpose in life you now have.”
I want to yell at him to go to hell, but something squeezes at my throat, cutting off my air. An enormous invisible weight presses against my entire body. I can’t breathe.
“Give up any hopes of ever escaping from here,” Guardian says. “All your friends are dead, and nobody will be coming to rescue you this time.”
The strong grip on my throat tightens. My vision darkens. He’s not human, I think in horror, no human being can possess such power, nobody at all.
“I could easily kill you,” Guardian says, relishing in my predicament. “I can explode your head or smash you into a bloody pulp against the wall. You’ll have to completely submit and give up any further thoughts of resistance if you wish to continue to survive.”
I momentarily lose consciousness. He drops me to the floor. I land hard and lie unmoving for a few seconds, recovering my senses. My neck hurts.
“I’ll kill you along with everybody you love or care about should you choose to disobey again,” Guardian adds, still smiling.
I look up at him with hatred and disgust.
“You’ve already killed everybody I love and care about,” I counter.
“What about that sweet little girl whose company you seem to enjoy so much?” he asks. “What’s her name? You do like her, don’t you?”
“She’s all right,” I answer.
“You wouldn’t wish anything bad to happen to her, would you?” he continues. “I’m sure you care deeply about her well-being. Chelsey is a very nice and obedient little thing. You can be sur
e I’ll skin her alive while you watch, should you attempt anything off hand during tomorrow’s parade.”
I don’t say anything. I suddenly realize Guardian must be bluffing. He can’t read my thoughts, otherwise he’d be aware about my plot with Chelsey. He’s just trying to intimidate me, to make sure I’ve given up on any thoughts of escape. And Chelsey hasn’t ratted me out. I’d be already dead if she had.
“Are you all right?” Guardian asks mockingly. “You look a little pale. Getting some fresh air tomorrow might do you some good.”
What a jerk, I think angrily.
“You don’t need to be scared,” Guardian says. “I’m not threatening you. It was just a little sample of what could happen, should you forget your place.”
“I get it, sir,” I say.
He thinks for a moment.
“You still feel sympathetic toward ordinary people, don’t you?” he asks.
“I despise all non-breakers, sir,” I answer readily. “They’re a lower race and don’t deserve to be living as equals.”
I have no idea whether he’s buying what I’m saying or not.
“Breakers are a significantly superior race,” Guardian agrees. “Non-breakers are like cave dwellers in comparison. Everything happening today is simply the logical result of our evolution. Breakers must rule the world and dominate humanity as the higher species. Our time is now. Ordinary humans must become subservient, else be killed.”
He pauses, waiting for my response.
“You’re absolutely right, sir,” I answer. What else can I say?
Guardian approaches the window and stares out into the yard. I remain on the floor, tensed for another possible attack. I feel like a cornered rabbit trapped in a cage with a hungry wolf. One false move and it will be dinner time.
“I’ve saved the breaker race,” Guardian says. “Without me, breakers would continue being hunted by Elimination, resorting to hiding and living fearfully in the shadows. You may think I’m too violent or even evil, with the blood of thousands of breakers on my hands. But you must also realize the sacrifice was necessary to force breakers into action. I didn’t have another option, but to take everything under my control. What else could I have done, burdened with such responsibilities? I’m the only level 5 breaker in existence. How else might I achieve my potential and fulfill my destiny? It is my fate to dominate this world.”
“I get it, sir,” I repeat. “I only can’t understand why you need me.”
“I prefer to remain in the shadows,” he explains. “I perceive the world as a grand stage and everything that happens is like a play. My role is not to be an actor in this play. I’m the director. I’m offering you the leading role along with an opportunity to provide inspiration for breakers. This role can be delivered by others should you perform poorly. I can always find new actors.”
“I see clearly now,” I say.
“I’m pleased you finally understand,” he answers, heading toward the door.
“Sir, I do have one small request,” I say. “I’d like for Chelsey to be permitted to attend tomorrow’s parade. I believe some fresh air might be good for her, too.”
He gives me a long look, then nods with an understanding smile.
“You’re truly enjoying my little gift, aren’t you?” he asks. “I personally chose her for you. Does she treat you well and meet your needs?”
“Chelsey exceeds all expectations,” I answer honestly.
Guardian grins.
“Good. She’ll be permitted to attend the tomorrow’s parade with you,” he adds, exiting the room.
I give a finger to the closing door. It’s all I can do for now.
I slowly get to my feet, overcoming the pain in my aching muscles. My throat hurts and I’m dizzy from a lack of oxygen. I walk into the bathroom and check my reflection in the mirror. I have darkening purple bruises all over my neck.
I return to the room and sit down on the bed, but can’t keep still. I approach the window, taking a glance outside. I see a now familiar scene, guards in camo beating and shooting down groups of defenseless prisoners. I turn away and begin pacing the floor.
Chelsey hasn’t ratted me out, but where the heck is she? What is taking her so long? I can’t stop worrying. What if the guards have caught her in a restricted area?
I feel ashamed. I’ve likely just sent a twelve-year-old girl straight to her doom. The guards would execute Chelsey for such a violation of rules. Disobedience in any form is punishable by death in this joint.
When I can’t stand it anymore, I knock on the door. A guard opens up, asking what the hell I need.
“Do you know where Chelsey is?” I ask.
“Getting lonely in there, hero?” he asks, holding his rifle on me.
“Very lonely,” I answer. “Where is she?”
“No idea,” he answers, slamming the door in my face.
“Jerk,” I say, and continue pacing the room.
I think of Guardian’s words concerning my deceased friends. I wonder whether he spoke the truth. What if Kitty and everybody else are really dead? What if the certainty of her death was too much for me to handle and led me into creating false hopes? What if I’m just trapped in my own overly optimistic illusion?
Chelsey finally returns around midnight.
“What happened?” I ask hurriedly, looking her over.
She doesn’t answer. Smiling, she raises up a small metallic object over her head. The key.
“Amazing,” I whisper. “You did it.”
“I did!” Chelsey exclaims. “I stole the control key!”
She lets out a short laugh and runs toward me, spreading her arms into a tight hug. She almost chokes the life out of me.
“I had to wait forever until it was safe,” Chelsey gushes. “Those stupid guards never noticed anything. Gosh, I wish you could have seen me. I was invisible. I was like a ninja. Oh, I’m so excited! I can’t wait to get out of this place.”
“You did great, Chelsey,” I say. “I’m so proud of you!”
She finally releases me from the bear hug and begins jumping around the room.
“Freedom! Freedom!” she repeats happily. I don’t recognize this side of her.
“Chelsey, calm down,” I say. “We gotta keep cool.”
But she can’t help herself. She continues jumping around and giggling. Her excitement becomes contagious, and I begin feeling wired and anxious as well. I start laughing along with her. I realize that we may finally get a chance to escape. The thought of freedom can be intoxicating.
I spend the next several minutes trying to bring Chelsey back to her senses. I decide to make her sit down on the bed and practice deep breathing exercises.
“Calm down,” I repeat. “Just breathe in and out. Slowly.”
I demonstrate the technique for her, taking in a deep breath. Chelsey shrieks, falling onto her back and laughing. Her eyes begin tearing.
“Please, stop already,” she begs. “You’re killing me.”
“Gosh, Chelsey,” I exclaim. “Get control of yourself.”
Exhausted, she finally calms down.
“Do you know how to use this thing?” she asks, holding the key up to her face.
“No, I don’t,” I admit. “How about you?”
“No clue,” Chelsey sighs.
We both stare at the strange remote control key, passing it back and forth and turning it every way. It has several buttons. I press a few.
“Did it work?” Chelsey asks.
“I can’t tell if it deactivated the collar yet,” I answer. “I guess, we’ll find out tomorrow.”
“We need to check it somehow,” she says. “I know how. I’m just a level 1 breaker. You can easily hypnotize me, can’t you?”
I probably can, although I’m really uncomfortable with the idea. Chelsey looks at me expectantly. She’s right. We have to know whether my collar has been deactivated before tomorrow.
“Have you ever been hypnotized before?” I ask.
; “No,” Chelsey answers.
“It can be very unpleasant,” I warn.
She shrugs.
“All right then,” I agree, concentrating. I haven’t practiced hypnosis since the time of my capture. As I direct my thoughts toward Chelsey, an intense pain envelops my head. It’s more painful than usual.
Obviously, it works. I can almost physically sense the moment I capture her mind. Chelsey must be a very weak breaker, because I don’t feel any resistance. Her face relaxes, losing all expression. Her eyes become glazed and unfocused. My blocking collar is definitely deactivated.
The second I realize this I stop the hypnosis.
“Wake up,” I say, shaking her. “Hey, come back. Can you hear me?”
Chelsey snaps from her trance, staring at me in a near panic. I know exactly what she’s going through.
“Did it work?” she asks in an unsteady voice. I nod.
It’s getting very late and time for Chelsey to leave. She lingers, looking at me with hesitation.
“I’m afraid the guards may discover the control key missing,” she finally says. “If Guardian learns about this, he’ll become really angry.” She pauses, lowering her eyes, then asks shyly, “May I stay till morning? I’m just really scared. I know you can’t protect me from Guardian. But being with you makes it less scary somehow.”
“Sure,” I say. “Of course, you can stay.”
“But where will I sleep?” she wonders. “There’s only one bed.”
She nervously looks at me, her expression almost fearful again.
“Yeah, but look at this nice comfortable chair,” I answer. “I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable sleeping in it.”
Smiling, she kicks off her shoes and settles down in the chair. It’s too small for her to stretch out so she curls up into an uncomfortable half-sitting position. I switch the light off and crawl into bed, feeling somewhat guilty. Maybe it should be me sleeping in the chair or on the floor? I finally decide what the heck. It’s my bed and I still have work to do, trying to contact Kitty.
I close my eyes and concentrate on Kitty’s image. I can draw her in my mind in perfect detail, but can’t feel any connection. The first few weeks after my capture, I was getting very strong visions and even managed to telepathically exchange messages with her. Then for some inexplicable reason our connection faded.
