Elimination (The Mind Breaker Book 1)

by Marina Epley

  When Wheeler opens the door, I flinch. The trial must be over. My pulse goes up and I notice my hands trembling.

  “Congratulations, breaker,” Wheeler says with a mocking smile. “You’ve been sentenced to death.”

  Chapter 7

  I’m still in shock when guards come in to unchain me. My mind refuses to accept the fact that my life is over. They wouldn’t really kill an innocent man, would they? This must be a mistake.

  As guards lead me out of the room, I resist as much as possible, although I know it’s completely useless. I’m tired of conforming. I want my freedom back and all this insanity to be over.

  Being handcuffed and outnumbered, I have no chance to escape. The guards slam me against a wall and get a few additional licks in with their nightsticks. I fall, landing on my side. My ribs hurt and my head starts bleeding again. I concentrate, projecting calming thoughts onto the guards. It doesn’t work. The collar around my neck blocks any ability to hypnotize.

  “Let me go!” I yell desperately. Multiple pairs of strong hands grab hold, dragging me along the jail passageway. My feet barely touch the floor. Somebody places a smelly dark bag over my head, blinding me.

  They throw me back into the same windowless cell, where I waited before the trial. I collapse onto the floor. When guards finally remove the bag from my head, I see an overly excited Lola and her team come in, escorted by Wheeler and Chase. I squint, turning away from cameras. Guards hold me tightly, making sure I can’t move.

  “You’ve been sentenced to death,” Lola says joyfully. “Do you think you’ve gotten what you deserve?”

  She holds the microphone close to my mouth, waiting. Everybody peers at me. I take a deep breath. This is my chance. I need to come up with something brilliant, something to change people’s minds and prove my innocence. Nothing intelligent comes to my head.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I blurt out.

  “Surprise! Just what they all say!” Lola yells at the camera. “Instead of begging for forgiveness, he continues lying and feigning innocence. What a calculating, cold blooded murderer!”

  Anger boils inside me. A death sentence isn’t enough for them. Now I’m forced to be a part of this freak show, playing the role of a despised villain. This makes me sick! I’m not going to be their puppet.

  Lola sticks her microphone to my face again. I remain silent, lips pressed tightly together, glaring at Lola. No matter what she does, I won’t utter another word. Hope it drops her ratings.

  After a few more failed attempts to get me to speak, Lola gives up and leaves. Guards remove my handcuffs and order me to stand facing the wall until they’re gone.

  Alone in the room I walk in circles, fighting a growing anxiety. I still can’t believe all this is happening. It’s like a bad dream, surreal and ridiculous. The more I think about it, the angrier I become. I’m not going to let them kill me so easily. This fight isn’t over, maybe I’ll find a way to survive yet.

  Random thoughts cross my mind. If I could figure out how to fake a suicide, they might transport me to a hospital where escape would be more feasible. There’s no easy way to go about it as guards made certain it’s impossible for me to harm myself. I have no knife or rope. Of course I could slam my head against the wall, splitting my skull, but in that case I’d be done in for real. No, suicide isn’t an option. I have to think of something else.

  Discouraged, I sit on the floor holding my head.

  Hypnosis. This is the only real advantage I have. Most of the guards aren’t resistant. If I could only regain my abilities, I’d put them under and use them to clear a path to the exit.

  I touch the collar on my neck. It’s made of metal and securely locked. Smooth and seamless, I can’t even find the place where it fits together. Agitated, I yank on it, wincing from the pain shooting through my neck.

  “Nice try, breaker,” I hear a mocking voice.

  Officer Chase comes in, carrying a tray with sandwiches. I leave the collar alone, sitting motionless. Chase places the tray near me. He appears a bit arrogant, walking in here without other guards. He probably doesn’t expect an attack. For a moment I consider my chances.

  “Don’t even think of doing something stupid,” Chase says, smiling. “I’m used to dealing with far tougher breakers than you. There’s no way you could surprise me.”

  He must have noticed my tension. Frustrated, I glance at sandwiches and push the tray away from me.

  “Come on,” Chase says. “You need to eat.”

  He’s right. If I want to escape, I need to eat to become stronger. I take a bite out of a sandwich.

  “When will I be transported to the prison?” I ask, hoping to gather some information.

  “You’ll wait for your execution day right here,” Chase answers. “Actually it’s against standard procedures, but we make an exception for breakers. You’re supposed to be too dangerous to be transported.”

  This is really bad news. Being stuck in the same cell, I won’t get many opportunities to escape. I force myself to look unconcerned, hiding my disappointment.

  “See you later, breaker,” Chase says, leaving. “Enjoy.”

  What a jerk! I should have smashed his head.

  I really don’t want to die in this place. Most likely I only have a few days or weeks. What can I come up with during such a short time?

  The next several days I look desperately for any chance to escape. It never comes. They keep me locked away inside the same cell just as Chase promised. Three times a day he comes at the same time with the same sandwiches. I decide to give overpowering Chase a try. When he arrives like clockwork with the sandwiches, I’m waiting. I jump him, tackling Chase to the ground and reaching for his rifle. Chase reacts instantly, using his taser. I sprawl on the floor in shock and pain. I expect him to strike me, but Chase just leaves. The next day he returns at the same time with a tray, acting like nothing happened.

  Other officers drop by to taunt me. They stand outside the door, yelling insults and laughing.

  “You’re gonna die soon, freak,” one says, grinning. “A broken breaker.”

  I suppress my hatred and desire to punch one of them, because that’s all they need to beat me. I won’t let them manipulate me into giving them a reason to add injury to insult.

  When I’m not plotting an escape, I spend my time worrying about Kitty. Not being with her hurts the most. My reckless little sister is on her own now. Hopefully, she did as I asked. But what if she didn’t? Kitty is stubborn and arrogant enough to try rescuing me. It’d do about as much good as walking into a police station and asking to be locked up. Please Kitty, get away, I repeat over and over in my mind. Forget me and save your own life.

  The cell seems smaller with each passing day. I feel suffocated and claustrophobic. They keep the lights on in the room 24/7. I can’t tell the difference between day and night and have no idea how long I’ve been here. Distracting myself, I walk in circles and do pushups. Escape, I think, I need to escape.

  One day Wheeler comes in with a squad of Elimination officers.

  “Let’s go, breaker,” he says. “We’re escorting you to death row. Tomorrow’s your big day.”

  Looks like Wheeler truly enjoys delivering bad news. I wonder how many times he has spoken the same words to other breakers captured before. Smirking, he waits for my reaction. I remain calm, keeping my anger and frustration deeply inside. I’m not going to give him the pleasure of seeing me distraught or begging. I look hard into his eyes, saying nothing.

  “Face the wall,” Chase says, stepping toward me. “Hands behind your back.”

  I have to suppress the impulse to fight. There are too many of them. Resisting now won’t do any good.

  “Come on, breaker,” Chase says with a smile. “You don’t want to get tased again, do you?”

  I have no choice but to do as he orders. Chase handcuffs me and leads to the door. Other officers watch, ready to tase and beat me at the first sign of disobedience.

&nbs
p; “By this same time tomorrow you’ll be dead,” I hear Wheeler’s voice. “And the world will be a better place.”

  Don’t answer, I remind myself. Don’t react. That’s exactly what he’s fishing for.

  I lower my head and walk. Chase leads me through a lonely maze of passages. They probably evacuated the entire route ahead of time.

  As we step out of the jail building, a crowd of journalists swarms us. The officers form a circle around me, pushing the story crazed cameramen out of the way. I’m overwhelmed by countless flashes, a cacophony of high pitched voices and hands with microphones jammed forward, reaching for me. I turn my face away and squint. I hate being the main attraction for their wicked show.

  “No interviews!” Wheeler yells. “Out of the way!”

  The officers shove away the more persistent journalists in our path ahead. Chase pushes me from behind and we move toward the sedans parked along the side of the road. Too bad I can’t use my breaker abilities. It’d be the perfect opportunity to escape. I’d easily twist the journalists’ minds, creating panic and confusion. A headache comes, but I can’t project one single thought. Perhaps if I’m lucky, I’ll get a chance to make a break for it during this trip.

  I breathe in the fresh cold air greedily, taking a look around. I haven’t been outside for so long. This may be the last time I see the sky, trees or feel the wind on my face. For the first time I truly realize how close I’ve come to death. I almost sense its shadow creeping up behind me.

  The officers push me inside one of the vehicles. Wheeler and Chase sit on either side of me. Journalists crowd against the car, pounding the windows and shouting questions. Chase puts a bag over my head as the car lurches forward.

  “Are you scared, freak?” Wheeler whispers. “You should be. We’ll be killing you soon enough.”

  This guy is sadistic with zero compassion toward breakers. Wheeler’s joyful laughter disgusts me. Chase and the driver remain silent, not showing any appreciation for Wheeler’s mean spirited jokes.

  The car moves slowly ahead, making several turns. We never stop. They’re not taking any chances.

  I calculate how much time I likely have. Probably less than twenty four hours. Not much to come up with a means of escape.

  Don’t lose hope, I tell myself. Don’t let them break you. They want you to give up and play out the role as the fall guy. Public enemy number one.

  I hold out hope that I can still find a way to deny them and survive.

  There’s a solemn atmosphere in the car during the last part of the trip. Everybody knows where we’re going and precisely why. I suddenly realize that these men are soon to be my killers. They’re all aware of my innocence. They all saw the actual video from the bank. Nobody cares.

  As the car stops, I’m forced to get out and walk. I can’t see anything. Chase and Wheeler grab my arms, pulling me forward. I hear heavy doors closing behind. A shiver runs down my spine. I’ve just stepped inside the place where I’m to die.

  They remove the bag from my head and I squint from bright ceiling lights. I’m in a large room, surrounded by Elimination guards holding rifles. For a second I think they’re about to shoot me right here, but it turns out it’s just their way of welcoming breakers to death row.

  An officer searches me for concealed weapons. That’s funny that they’re so worried about my committing suicide when their intent is to kill me. Suicide is not part of my plan. I want to escape and find Kitty.

  The officers lead me to a separate room and order me to undress. Unwillingly, I strip off all my jail clothing. They leave the blocking collar on my neck. An officer brings a hose and knocks me off my feet with a forceful spray of cold water. The officers burst out laughing. Of course, letting me take a normal shower isn’t their first option. Elimination has to find a more humiliating and violent method to wash their inmates. When the procedure is over, I get up, shivering and spitting water. Chase throws some fresh clothes at my feet. Apparently, he’s the only one not amused at my predicament.

  The officers lock me up in a large cell with the cameras mounted on the ceiling. They probably broadcast this video throughout the entire Republic. It hurts to think that my imprisonment and death are just part of the show. This is how they divert public attention from real problems into hatred for breakers. We’re blamed for the high criminal rate in society, shortages of food and crumbling dilapidated housing. No matter what tragedy occurs, some poor breaker will have to be killed to satisfy the public bloodlust for revenge.

  I lie down, resting and trying to think. All normal people can’t hate us, can they? I heard there’s a group of protesters. They don’t do much, just walk with signs calling for freedom and equality for breakers. They haven’t actually rescued anyone yet.

  Time marches steadily on, each tick on the clock bringing me closer to the time of my execution. There are only a few hours left. I have to do something right now, before it’s too late. I can’t think of a damn thing.

  My hands tremble and I close my eyes to calm down. If I have to die, I want to die like a man.

  Being so frightened and desperate, I find my only peace in thinking of Kitty. She’s still free and hopefully untraceable for Elimination. I haven’t failed her after all. I did all right. I can accept dying for Kitty. It’s much better than both of us being killed.

  I can’t help from smiling as I remember our first Christmas together. The only Christmas tree we could afford was a total disaster, one with broken branches and needles already falling off. Despite everything, Kitty was overjoyed. She never had a Christmas tree before. We decorated it with paper ornaments and then drank hot chocolate, another luxury we couldn’t afford every day. I remember Kitty laughing and singing. Gosh, we were so happy together. Even being so different, we managed to become really close friends. Now I’m on my own, just as I was before I met her.

  It’s fine, I tell myself. You can handle it.

  I’ve probably been doomed from the very beginning. Even as a child I was unwanted and even despised by my own mother. What other fate could I expect to have? Any memories of my mother are vague. She was younger than I am now, when I was born. I’ve never known my father. My mother often told he was a nasty man, a vicious breaker who took advantage of her. If she had enough money, she’d have gotten rid of me before it was too late.

  In spite of everything, I loved her as any little child would love his mother. She always made sure to make me feel guilty for my very existence. She said I was the spitting image of my father. Even as a kid I hated myself for being a constant living reminder of what had happened to her. I remember her crying and throwing things, wishing that she was dead. Being upset and depressed most of time, she wasn’t capable of taking proper care about my younger sister. That soon became my job. I fed, washed and then calmed her by making up bed time stories about a happier future. She had red curly hair and green eyes, just like my Kitty.

  My mother first learned about my abilities to hypnotize when I turned eight. Afterward, she spent the whole night crying. When morning arrived she gave me a basket with food and asked me to leave.

  “Go away and never come back,” she said. “Forget your name. Never tell anybody about me or your sister.”

  I cried, pleading to stay. Nothing could change her mind. I don’t think I can blame her now. Elimination would lock her up for concealing a breaker.

  I left. Since that time, I’ve been on my own.

  A door opening snaps me back from the grim memories. Chase comes in with a dull face.

  “You have the right to one phone call,” he says. “Do you have anybody you wish to call?”

  I shake my head negatively. Presented as an act of humanity, a phone call is just one more method Elimination would use to track people I may know.

  “Too bad,” Chase sighs. “Well, breaker, then tell me what you want for your supper,” he pauses and then adds. “Your last supper, I mean.”

  One more sadistic ritual, feeding an animal before sacrificing it
.

  “I’m not hungry,” I answer, unwilling to play along their game.

  “Come on, breaker,” Chase exclaims. “Order something. You don’t need to spend your last hours hungry.”

  “What do you care?” I ask. “You and your friends are gonna murder me anyway.”

  He averts his eyes.

  “Listen, breaker,” he says. “This is not personal, okay? I’m just doing my job.”

  “You know I haven’t done anything to deserve this,” I insist. “You saw the video from the bank, didn’t you?”

  Chase sighs.

  “Just order your darn supper,” he says. “I didn’t come here to chit chat. Actually, I’m not allowed to talk to you outside of procedural matters.”

  “I’ll take a huge juicy steak with mashed potatoes,” I say. That was my favorite food when I lived on the farm. “Medium rare, with onions,” I order. “And ice cream for dessert.”

  “Maybe you’d also like some freaking lobster tails with butter sauce?” Chase asks. “We’re on a tight budget here.”

  “You got to be kidding,” I laugh. “My last supper and you’re on a budget.”

  Chase fidgets on his feet. I’m starting to have a bit of fun with him.

  “I’ll see what can be done,” he says, leaving.

  I lie down and become motionless, thinking. What can I do to escape? Probably nothing, although I refuse to believe it.

  Kitty, just think of Kitty. Make the time you have left less miserable.

  Chase comes back with a tray and places it in front of me. Looks like a tray straight out of a frozen TV dinner. It’s only slightly warmed up.

  “What the heck is this supposed to be?!” I exclaim.

  “Sorry,” Chase says. “That’s all we had. At least it’s steak.”

  “I’m not gonna eat this garbage,” I say.

  Chase rolls his eyes.

  “You won’t get any breakfast,” he says, pushing the tray closer. “Just eat!” he orders.

  Groaning, I take the plastic spoon and try some mashed potatoes. Chase watches me attentively. This is weird. What is he waiting for?