Hundred Stolen Breaths

by Campbell, Jamie

  I barely had enough time to climb back into bed before the mist ghosted through the vent again. It put me into a deep sleep immediately, no chance for escape or protest.

  Sleep was almost a welcome reprieve from the worry but it didn’t help with my escape plan. Which was probably entirely the point. They wanted to keep me incapacitated, subdued, under their control.

  I didn’t blame them.

  But I did hate them.

  When I awoke, I still felt tired. The drugs were still circling inside my bloodstream. I didn’t wake naturally, I realized. I was pulled from sleep by a presence standing outside my cell.

  I summoned up some energy from deep within to turn my head and see who my visitor was.

  It was a decision I instantly regretted.

  President Stone stared back at me.

  Chapter 4: Reece

  I faced my firing squad with a level of courage I never thought I had.

  I didn’t flinch.

  I just waited for the shots to ring out a few seconds before they would rip through my heart.

  It wouldn’t be long now.

  With three executioners, one of them at least would pierce through my body.

  Their helmets hid their faces. I would never know my killer. Perhaps that was a good thing.

  I almost wished it would just be over.

  I couldn’t handle the waiting. Not when every second felt like an hour.

  “Stop!” The single word spread over the killing field, full of authority and no question.

  My heart felt like it stopped beating as I tried to make sense of what was going on. I should have been dead, shot to pieces. Instead, someone had called for the execution to stop.

  Had the Resistance found a way to save me?

  The three shooters lowered their weapons and turned to face the source of the noise. Not one, but six members of the President’s Personal Guard marched onto the field.

  So, not the Resistance then.

  Unless they found some excellent disguises.

  Washington’s face was red with anger as he confronted them. They spoke amongst themselves, their words not carrying over the field to reach my ears.

  Whatever the guards were saying was making him really angry, whatever it was. Surely it could have waited a few moments instead of leaving me to stand in the middle of the field awaiting my death?

  Four of the guards left the troopers and crossed the field to stand in front of me. They were wearing full uniform, the black so dark against the troopers’ white.

  It was the guard immediately in front of me that spoke. “Corporal Thompson, you are being requisitioned to the President’s Personal Guard. You are to come with us. Now.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “You’re coming with us. That’s all you need to know.”

  Clearly, it was all they were going to tell me. Still, with my only other choice being shot to death, I didn’t really have a decision to make.

  The guards marched me out the front entrance of the base and bustled me into their waiting vehicle. I could still hear Washington protesting even as the door closed.

  No matter how many times I asked for information, those around me were tight-lipped. They stared forward in their helmets and refused to acknowledge my existence.

  I had no choice except to wait.

  More waiting.

  Just what I needed.

  Aria City whizzed by the windows outside as we headed toward a building near Parliament. All hopes that my rescuers were members of the Resistance faded away. They would never operate this close to the secured building.

  The driver pulled in and I was escorted out of the vehicle. They took me to the guard dormitories. Four of them fell away, leaving only one to show me to a small room.

  “This is your new home,” he said. “We’re roommates. You better not snore.”

  For the life of me, I couldn’t work out what the hell was happening. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

  “You’re the newest member of the President’s Personal Guard. Congratulations. That bed’s yours.” He pointed to the one on the left – farthest from the window. “Uniforms are in the cupboard. Briefing is in ten minutes, it’s conducted in the room at the end of the corridor. Don’t be late.”

  He turned to leave and a rush of panic swept through me. “Wait.” My mouth opened but I had nothing to say. All I could come up with was the lamest question on earth. “What’s your name?”

  My new roommate swiveled his head as he waited by the door. “Harry. Sergeant Harry Parsons.”

  “Reece Thompson.”

  He smirked. “I know who you are. You’ve got eight minutes to get suited up.”

  Parsons left me alone in the room that was far too quiet and separate from the fate I had prepared for. All I kept thinking was that it had to be a trap. Somehow I was missing the punchline but it would come eventually.

  It always did.

  And when it did, it would punch me in the gut and knock all the wind out of me.

  The only thing I could do for now was work out what the hell was going on. To do that, I had to play along. They would have to reveal their hand eventually.

  The black uniform was neatly hanging in the closet just like Parsons said. I pulled it out, surprised to see it was even the correct size. It was the same as the troopers’ uniform except black where the other one was white. It was supposed to make it easy for the public to separate the general army from the president’s personal protection squad.

  I got dressed quickly and followed the directions to get to the meeting room. It was crowded with a sea of black uniforms as dozens of guards stood at attention.

  Apparently the president didn’t believe in chairs.

  They probably weren’t in the budget.

  We stood in neat rows as a man in his forties stepped up on the podium at the front. He was wearing the same uniform as the rest of us with the exception of a patch across his chest. It was too small for me to see details but it was red, in stark contrast to the lack of color everywhere else.

  A hushed silence ran over the crowd. This was obviously a man they needed to listen to. His brows knitted together, showing hardly any wrinkles. That wasn’t unusual. Doctors had more than enough technology to wind back the aging clock. While he looked about forty, his actual age was probably far older.

  His eyes remained fixed while he spoke.

  “We have a plague in Aria City. A plague that needs eradication in order to ensure the safety of its citizens. We have been tasked by the president herself to deal with this scourge that has been allowed to continue for too long.”

  He paused to look around the room, as if it were our fault this plague existed and was allowed to continue. He had a way of making sure everyone felt his wrath.

  Including me.

  And I literally just got here.

  He continued. “The troopers are not doing enough, the police are not doing enough, we need to fix this situation so Aria can return to the exceptional city it has always been. The Defective Clones have had their fun. We have allowed them to live out their lives in peace and comfort and they have taken advantage of our generosity.”

  Had he actually visited the Defectives’ village? There was nothing peaceful or comfortable about it. They were horrible, horrible places. If he spent two minutes in one he would run away screaming like a little girl.

  He didn’t know shit.

  There was nothing generous about creating clones and then throwing them out like garbage when they had a defect. Even the small act of mercy they showed them when the troopers delivered them food was only to benefit the Makers to ensure their products didn’t die before they could take their organs.

  Everything that came out of his mouth was a lie, told exactly like Stone herself was up there.

  It was beyond words.

  He kept going anyway. “Operation Orange has officially been approved by parliament today. We are to hunt down the selfish Defectiv
es and remind them of their true purpose. They will be detained until their Makers issue orders for their destruction. We will eradicate this plague, and we will return our city streets back to the unblemished state they once were.”

  A few of the guards in the room nodded slightly in agreement, like this was the only way to deal with the matter. Like the Defective Clones were nothing more than rats that needed to be exterminated.

  All I could think of was Wren. How she had been so scared when the troopers raided the village to hunt her down. The look in her eyes on that first night I had found her, it was haunting me. I could only picture that expression on all the other clones we would be hunting.

  I didn’t want to be a part of this.

  I didn’t want to be a part of any of this.

  Stone didn’t need to do this. She could issue orders for the Makers to house the Defective Clones as they did the Valid Clones. She could make it illegal to dispose of a Defective and the problem for the troopers and guards would go away.

  It wouldn’t help the bigger issue, of the fact that murders took place all the time and were legal just because they were clones. But it would stop the need for the villages and the Defectives to be living in such poor conditions.

  Instead of acting reasonably, she was acting with her heavy hand. As usual. Nobody saw the clones as anything other than a means to an end, I shouldn’t have expected anything further from these people.

  The man at the podium started talking again, breaking me from my silent rant. “Stage two of Operation Orange is to target the sympathizers. They are committing the worst crime of the two by helping perpetuate this plague. We will find them and they will be brought to justice. We start tomorrow.”

  His gaze travelled around the room again, falling on every face before moving onto the next one. Finally, his eyes met mine as I stared ahead. “We have a new guard joining us tonight. Cadet Reece Thompson.”

  My heart thundered in my ears as everyone turned to find me in the crowd. It was attention I didn’t want.

  “Cadet Thompson has been promoted from the President’s Trooper Division. As I’m sure he is already aware, we are very keen to see his progress with us. Something I’m certain will be monitored closely.”

  He nodded curtly just once before turning and leaving the briefing room. Once the door was closed behind him, people started to leave the room.

  Nobody spoke to me.

  I followed them out, heading for my room and the privacy it offered. The superior had made it quite clear that they were watching me. If I made one wrong move, they would include me in the eradication program.

  It was like I’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire. Maybe execution back at the base was the better outcome. This was just prolonging my agony.

  But it was also giving me an opportunity to help Wren and that made it all worthwhile.

  A piece of paper was resting in the plastic container attached to my dorm room door. I pulled it out and scanned through until I saw my name. It was the group assignments for the next day. I was in Group Charlie for Operation Orange along with three others. Parsons was in a different group.

  I left the paper in the holder so he could read through when he returned and went inside. The room was smaller than at the base but it was more comfortable. There was carpet on the floor which was a luxury in itself. The beds were narrow but soft, the hologram television larger.

  Lying on the bed, I didn’t have long to wait before my new roommate came in. He glanced at me before mimicking me on his own bed.

  The silence in the room was deafening.

  “So was that our motivational speech for the day?” I asked, nodding toward the briefing room.

  Parsons laughed. “As close as it gets. That was Captain Johnson, he’s the bigwig here. He doesn’t normally get too involved. I guess they wanted to make a point with the new operation.”

  I wasn’t going to discuss the merits of the new operation until I knew more about Parsons. If he was like the rest, he would report me straight away and I would be back before the firing squad in time for sunrise.

  “He certainly made a point,” I muttered.

  Parsons studied me, sizing me up to see what I was worth. His lips pursed together like he’d sucked on a lemon and it had permanently frozen his face in place.

  He took a deep breath and climbed off the bed. Extending his index finger, he pointed to the mirror hanging on the wall and then grabbed at his ears.

  While doing this, he mouthed, “They listen.”

  I nodded with understanding. The rooms were fitted with listening devices, picking up what should have been personal conversations between guards.

  Good to know.

  He returned to his bed and closed his eyes, the talking portion of the night done with.

  I turned around to face the wall, trying to ignore the rumbling of my stomach. It had been hours since I was fed back at the base. Morning breakfast couldn’t come fast enough.

  Sleep was nearly impossible while my mind was so full of questions and problems that I couldn’t solve. The way Stone’s guards had saved me from the firing squad was only one of them. Had they been only a few minutes later…

  I was on borrowed time.

  That much was clear.

  Captain Johnson had made it obvious that he was going to watch me. And if not him, then someone else. They were going to ensure I didn’t get an opportunity to step out of line and waste the chance they had given me. Was he the one behind my last minute reprieve?

  All I could think about was how much I needed to speak with Joseph and the Resistance. They might be able to see the reasons behind the captain’s actions. At the very least they would be able to give me some guidance about how I could help them as a member of the President’s Personal Guard.

  It was going to be impossible to slip away but I would look for an opportunity. After all, no place was completely foolproof. Where there’s a will, there’s a way and I had both in bucket loads.

  I couldn’t help but think there had to be something more to my appointment in the guards. There had to be a bigger picture that I was missing. They wouldn’t care so much about one trooper and they certainly wouldn’t feel the need to spare my life like they had done.

  One trooper.

  What was so interesting about me?

  The solution eluded me, remaining just outside my grasp no matter how much I thought about it. It felt like I would be able to hold onto it if I could only unlock the thought.

  Or was it a memory?

  I had no idea what it was, only that it was important. If I could solve the riddle, everything would be clear. I would know my purpose, know my part in someone else’s big plan.

  But it wasn’t happening tonight. I finally drifted off to sleep only to be plagued by nightmares all night. The amount of times I was shot by a firing squad was numerous. Each time I felt the bullets as they pierced my skin and sent sticky wet blood flowing down my body.

  I awoke more fatigued than when I went to bed. It was five a.m. when the alarm sounded overhead. The loud, echoing noise startled me awake as I grabbed my boots and prepared to run.

  “It’s only a wakeup call,” Parsons said sleepily, rubbing his eyes and stretching. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “Do they always wake us up at the crack of dawn?”

  He threw a pillow at me. “You should be used to it, Trooper.”

  He was right. I should have been used to the alarms and early mornings. It had been my life on the base for four years. Somehow it had only taken a few days in the cells to break my routine and sense of familiarity.

  I took a shower and changed into a fresh uniform, losing track of Parsons as he did the same thing before slipping out of the room. I guessed I would have to find my way to breakfast alone.

  If the guards’ base was anything like the troopers’, the mess hall should be centrally located so everyone could get in, get fed, and leave in the most efficient manner. That was all I had to go on a
s I wandered along the corridors.

  The base was smaller than I was used to. President Stone used the guards to protect all the government buildings and members of parliament. This was far smaller than the entire city the troopers protected around the clock.

  It wasn’t long before I was completely turned around. Even with the smaller size, the place was like a maze. Buildings seemed to have been built haphazardly and not in the neat rows I was used to. They all looked the same with nothing being signposted.

  How was anyone supposed to find their way around?

  Maybe that was the point.

  You couldn’t attack if you couldn’t get your bearings. They must have done it on purpose as an extra layer of protection. They weren’t just being paranoid, I knew from meeting with the Resistance that guards were very high on their hit list.

  If you wanted the president, you had to eliminate her protection first. Take out the guards and you could get to her. It was basic stuff on how to assassinate the most powerful woman in the country.

  I discreetly followed a group of three guards and hoped they were going toward the food hall. If they weren’t, it wasn’t like I could get any more lost.

  As it turned out, they were.

  We entered the mess hall together, the smell of bacon and eggs hitting my nose and instantly making me drool. They were the fake, powdered variety but I would have eaten cardboard by that stage and thought it tasted like pancakes.

  I scoffed down the food until my stomach stopped growling for attention. The meals were slightly larger than at the trooper base but still not quite enough to fill you up. Food was a powerful commodity in Aria and it seemed like they enjoyed using it as a control mechanism here too.

  I bet Stone never went hungry.

  Parsons was in the mess hall and pointed out the way to my group assembly. I followed his directions carefully, determined not to get lost again and miss my call. I had to start out on the right foot, give Captain Johnson no reason to watch me too closely.

  Group Charlie was waiting for me when I arrived, impatiently tapping their feet in annoyance. I was barely a few minutes late. Clearly they were going to make sure the rookie got initiated.