Ominous Order

by Felisha Antonette

  “I am sitting on the inside of these bars trying to talk to you about a plan to get us out,” he states matter-of-factly, his tone growing harsh as though I’ve angered him.

  “Yeah, after we lost three lives, Marc. Stop talking to me for a while, okay? You pushed me off when you were determined I was a traitor. Now I’m pushing you away because I know you are one.”

  There’s a shuffling before his heavy boots plod across the glass to my side. In a hushed voice he says, “I pushed you away because I had chosen you over my brother and knew I’d do it again. I blamed it on you being a traitor. But as it’s been revealed to you, I didn’t care about any of that. I don’t care about what’s on your inside, what your genetic makeup is or whose side you’re on because I’m on your side, Kylie.”

  I crane my neck to look up at him. His stoic expression brings me a comfort I reject. When our eyes meet, his shoulders slacken, and he exhales as he rolls his eyes to look away from me. “When you were ordered to execute Luke and I, had that Vojin not interrupted, you would’ve done it. No?”

  He shakes his head. “Never.” His answer comes out as a whisper. “I knew he was going to be interrupted. Only recent events had not gone as planned. Everything else was as we expected.”

  I wave my hand dismissively.

  “Tonight, Sean and I will help you, Jord, and Seits escape. As soon as the lights dim. The night guards will have other arrangements this evening.” He flicks his gaze to Noranti, and she nods, agreeing. “With our alliance, they’ll free all of us and lead us through the halls to our exit. The room we’ll have to pass through will unfortunately alert those gray Vojin, so one of the blue ones has agreed to sacrifice itself for our freedom. We’ll shoot him, and he’ll explode to kill the others, even the one responsible for killing Luke. I’ll get your mask for you and make sure you have your weapons before you leave your cell. Once the gray Vojin are out, we’re home free. We’ll get back, save our country,” he scoffs, correcting, “our world, and be done with the whole thing.” He goes silent, and then asks, “You in?”

  “Duh, Marc. I wouldn’t choose to sit here.”

  He sits beside me and grabs my hand. “When we get home—”

  “When I get home, just stay away from me. I know my mission. I don’t need help from you to accomplish it.”

  Fool me twice, shame on me…

  Grumbling, he stands. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “That’s right,” I call behind him as the bars rise. “You go keep up appearances.”

  He halts, back to me. His head bows forward as he groans, and then he continues onward, and the bars close behind him.

  Chapter Seven

  My eyes droop.

  I snap up, refusing the sleep my body craves. The lights have dimmed, and if Marc was right, any minute now, he and Sean will be walking through those doors to break Jord, Seits, and me out of here.

  “Kylie?” Jord calls from his cell. “How are you holding up over there?”

  I stand to wake myself up. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re a fighter, Kylie,” Seits says. “Don’t dwell on your loss while you’re here or when we get back. Keep pushing until you fall. Fight everyday with your all as if you had a twin.”

  I snort a laugh and mumble under my breath, “Luke wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  I cross the floor to the bars and look at Cory’s empty cell. It all happened so fast. Cory, Harold, and Luke did not go out the way they deserved, and it’s not fair. I press my forehead against one of the cool, glass bars and try to keep my gaze from focusing on the green and blue particles stuck to the glass floor. Cory’s words weigh heavy on me. I knew you and Luke were mixed and Your parents where implants for the Trade. Does that mean he may have been responsible for putting those letters on Luke’s and my beds? And if he knew this entire time, why’d he take so much smack from Luke and I? He could have hung this over our heads and had us dancing in his palm if he wanted. I would’ve loved to learn more, and maybe I could have if I weren’t so unforgiving.

  At least Cory and I were able to share a laugh before he went. At least he finally told me the truth. Turning my attention back to Seits and Jord, I say, “Cory said there were implants inserted by the Trade among the Vojin. He thought the Vojin may be in close association with the Guidance.”

  Jord rubs his hand over his chocolate bald head. His brows knit as he meets my eyes. “If they’re working together—”

  Seits cut in, “What does that mean for back home? Does the Guidance know about the Zombies? Are they going along with this proposed theory?”

  “Better question. Does the Guidance agree with the elimination of Creations? If so, that’d put us all in a tight spot.”

  The door swipes open, and the dim hall lightens with a pink glow. The pink Vojin is joined by another that is blue. They shade the hall in purple. Marc and Sean are on their flanks. The four of them stop at Jord’s cell first, freeing him and Seits. They come to mine, and I barge out before the bars make it into the ceiling.

  I take the gun and mask Marc hands me and am last in line to follow them out of the prison hall. As I’m passing Luke’s cell, I spot something under the pillow laid upon his cot. I leave the line and go to it, grabbing a folded scrap of paper. I stuff it into my pocket and hurry to follow the group to freedom. Or to another set up…

  It’s hard to accept Luke isn’t next to me, and I’m about to attack this mission without him. His voice echoes in my mind. “You ready?”

  “Yes,” I respond. “You ready?”

  “Yes.” He comes into view, a transparent shine of particles making up my brother’s frame.

  “Don’t stop until we’re out,” I tell him.

  “Don’t drop.”

  “Don’t doubt.”

  “I got you,” he says and—maybe I’m imagining all of this—he lifts his arm and fist for me to meet.

  I lift mine and meet his. “I…I got you, Luke.” We bump fists, and he disintegrates. I breathe and shake my head.

  The others are a bit ahead of me when I turn my attention back to the mission. I use the anger that’s yet to wane and boost my adrenaline to push onward.

  The pain is all in my head, it’s not real, I try to convince myself.

  Pfft. Tell that to the burn crawling up my throat and the warm tear creeping from the corner of my right eye.

  Clearing my throat, I remind myself, Battle now, mourning is over.

  The others have loaded into the elevator room. Marc waves me in. I hustle to the elevator and move to the back. The two Vojin are in the front.

  The door slides closed, and the elevator descends until we come to a smooth stop. The pink and blue Vojin are out first. The five of us silently follow out behind them into the wide, circular room where we had our first battle a few days ago. We walk through what could pass as a starless night sky. The room is dark, barely lit by the deep blue glass walls, floor, and ceiling. It’s quiet.

  We cross the open floor to the wall on the other side, and a door slides up instead of sideways. It opens to another narrow hall, and we enter in a line, Marc taking the spot behind the blue Vojin.

  We remain quiet as she jogs through the hall to another door where we stop. Marc pulls his handgun, one provided by the scientists that can handle the bullets specially made to kill the Vojin.

  The blue Vojin faces the door, shoulders rising and falling as though he’s breathing nervously. He doesn’t speak but keeps his attention on the pink Vojin. Standing aside, Noranti places her hand against the center of the door before us. A blue horizontal line slides down the length of her hand from the four fingers to the heel of the palm, seeming to read her prints. Before Noranti presses down on the reader, she looks at Marc.

  Marc clicks the safety off his gun as the blue Vojin turns to face him. The blue Vojin adjusts, scrunching down by a couple inches so the barrel of Marc’s hand gun can be aimed just left of where the heart should be. The precise area the scientists advised us
is required to do the most damage to a Vojin. The blue Vojin nods to Noranti and readies himself for the next step, balling his fists and holding his head high.

  I blink, and Marc fires a shot into the blue Vojin’s chest. The shot is silent, and the bullet quickly penetrates his frame. The Vojin cringes in pain and hunches over as his hands fly to his chest, though he doesn’t release a cry. The hole the bullet creates seals, and just like the others, his chest begins to expand as the combustible components react with the Vojin’s genetic material, causing the Vojin’s deep ocean blue hue to darken into a warm silver.

  Noranti gives it an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and the blue Vojin feebly faces the door. As his color fades, the Vojin’s skin stretches almost to the point of bursting.

  Noranti presses down on the reader, and the door slides open, revealing the three seven-foot Volones, Collins, and Cecilia. They look toward us, enclosed in a tight room with two floating beds and a clear glass table with a projected screen like one from the command center. On it are obscure circles with jagged edges and pie graphs with one quarter shaded in.

  Collins and Cecilia whip around to face the door from the bed’s edge where the Volones lie. The five of them jump to their feet, intention to battle sewn into their crouched backs and narrowed eyes.

  Marc kicks the once blue Vojin into the room just as he explodes, releasing the harmful gas. Collins and Cecilia aren’t wearing their masks.

  Noranti presses down on the reader to close the door, and I thrash past the line and shove her hand away.

  “Kylie,” someone says angrily in a muffled voice from behind me as I rush into the darkening room. I grab Collins as she coughs and topples to the floor. I drape her arm over my shoulder and help her to her feet to carry most of her weight as we hurry for the exit.

  A seven-foot Volones moves in front of me. The gray fog surrounds him as if his entire body is breathing in the deadly fumes. He heaves for air, hands flying to his stomach as he drops to his knees. I kick the fallen Volones aside, and we climb over him. I ignore the crying and hacking behind me and continue to pull Collins from the room.

  Noranti shuts the door.

  Coughing, Collins manages to shout, “No!” turning for the door. “Please open the door?” she begs.

  I take a step back, a smile playing on my mouth.

  “You have to open this door!” she says, tears streaming down her slim cheeks. She grabs Noranti by the hand and slams it against the reader. “Open the damn door!”

  I yank Collins away from Noranti, and she whips around, landing a punch on my jaw. “Get the hell away from me, Kylie!”

  Breathing through the pain, I lick my dry lips. The satisfaction of Cecilia choking to death among the three Volones, her yells and cries to be saved pounding against the other side of the closed door, and her heavy coughs indicating death is soon to come are all far more pleasing than ramming my fist against Collins nose over and over again.

  Unfazed by Collin’s threat, Noranti says, “We must go.”

  Collins looks daggers at me. I smile and say, “Payback’s a bitch.”

  Sean grabs her shoulder and pushes her to follow Noranti. Marc taps my arm with the back of his hand. “Don’t touch me,” I say under my breath, shoving him aside. “You’re next if you don’t stay out of my way.” I pass him, marching behind his brother.

  Jord and Seits fall in in front of me, and Marc is at the rear of our line. We’ve picked up speed, racing down the hall, Noranti rushing us along saying, “We must hurry.”

  But why? If the worst enemy is down, should we not be home free?

  Something doesn’t feel right. We took care of those Volones too easily, and to be racing for an exit after being assured the worst of our problems is over…Something is up.

  We burst into a familiar area. An empty room with glass walls lit in green: the same room we fell into on arrival. Panting, we halt and the door behind us seals shut.

  Collins hunches over, heaving for air. As her tears drop onto the glass, she cries for her sister.

  I look away from her, rolling my eyes. Nothing in this room has changed since the day we arrived, but I’ll be damned if they catch me with my guard down again. This pink Vojin has us racing through these halls, likely after doing her dirty work. I played along because I wanted to get out of here, but she’s admitted to hating humans and Creations. I draw my gun, click off the safety and aim it at Noranti. “What are we running from? The threat is over,” I say to her.

  “What are you doing, Kylie?” Marc snaps.

  “Shut up!” I point to him. “Tell me,” I say, gesturing to Noranti with my gun.

  She extends her hands toward me, palms up. “Recall, Kylie,” she says in a pleading tone. “When I came to you, I explained the Volones were the ones who wanted to rule the universe. It’s not only three of them, but many that walk our corridors. We’re avoiding you all being attacked. The three you destroyed were the three in charge of you.” She turns her head as she makes eye contact with each of us.

  Unconvinced, I slide my finger over the trigger. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Ky, we’re going home. Let her go so we can get there and save our planet,” Marc orders.

  “I don’t believe you either.” Seits takes my left, her gun aimed at the Vojin. “Save our planet from what? We just eliminated the threat, didn’t we?”

  With Seits’s eyes on the Vojin, I look to Marc. “While we’re stopped, let’s address the elephant in the room,” I start. “The only twins leaving here together are Jord and Seits.” Jord steps to my right, aiming his gun at Sean. “Now which of you will not be returning home?” I ask.

  “What the hell, Ky,” Sean says, throwing an arm out at his side. “You do not need to do this.” His arm falls and slaps his leg. “We did not turn on you. We’re helping you! Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  I purse my lips and shake my head. “That doesn’t sound like an answer, Sean. But no worries.” I hitch a brow at Marc. “If you can’t choose, I’ll choose for you.”

  “Kylie,” Noranti calls. “Your anger over the murder of your brother is understood. However, you must realize your hate and the unnecessary death of others will only cause more destruction within yourself and your world.”

  “Fuck off,” I snap. “You all must realize that I am a born Creation designed for Separation, to manage and maintain order with my twin at my side as my lifeline. You need to understand that if it was not for them,” I gesture to the three traitors, “my brother would still be here. You should also realize that I don’t care about this destruction. You have something up your sleeve, I just know it.”

  Forget this.

  I turn and aim at Marc, but at the last second, I hesitate. My shot hits him in the neck.

  Sean leaps for his brother as Marc soars backward. Though the shots of these guns are silent, they sure pack a satisfying punch.

  “Tell me the truth,” I tell Noranti. “Or you’re next.”

  “You know the truth, Kylie. I am here to help you,” she says, pressing her palms together. “The Volones you took out were a major threat. You must go and go quickly. We will hold back those here willing to initiate further attack. We appreciate your help.” She squats down and places a finger to the ground. From the glass swirls a pit, starting small then spreading, opening a gateway for us to pass through.

  Seits lowers her gun. “Let’s go with it, Kylie. We have nothing but their word to go off. Let’s get home, and we’ll figure it out from there.”

  I bite my lip and feel my nostrils widen as I suck in an angry breath. We shouldn’t be walking away from this. But we’re still on their turf and risk not getting back to warn our people about what’s going on. “Okay,” I say. “Collins, you first, then me.”

  “No way,” Collins says. Sweat moistens her cheeks, and she fiddles with her shaking hands. “Someone is going between the two of us.”

  “Whatever,” I wave her off. “Collins first, Seits and Jord, and then me
.” After she’s through the portal, she won’t know otherwise.

  Chapter Eight

  Collins jumps into the portal, and I’m hot on her heels. The colors of the Vojin circle around me as I fall through the tunnel and out of the hole. Collins is getting up from the floor as I climb to my feet. A bit dizzy from the fall, I stumble as I charge for her. Fear twitches the corners of her eyes. She crouches down, ready for my attack.

  Throwing my weight forward, I tackle Collins to the floor. She tries to shove me off her, and as I knock her hands away with one fist, I ram a punch in her face with the other. I drive jab after jab into her face until her nose bleeds.

  She groans. “Stop, Ky,” she gurgles.

  Her throat is slippery from the pool of tears and blood. I squeeze her neck in my hands and press my thumbs against her airway.

  Gasping, she beats her weak fists against my locked arms, and her legs kick roughly against the ground behind me, heels of her boots scraping at the tile floor. I ignore the pain from her feeble attacks. “Give, Collins,” I tell her as the muscles in her neck tighten. “Don’t fight it,” I say through my teeth.

  She gasps for air, hands wrapped around my wrists, nails digging into my flesh.

  “You better die before someone pulls me off you, Collins. If we have to go through this again, it’ll only get worse.”

  I lift her up and slam her against the golden floor beneath us. My grip tightens around her neck, and I do it again. Her eyes lose focus, and she mouths, “Stop.”

  I slam her against the floor again, and a blood vessel in her right eye bursts.

  I hear the thud of someone else falling through the hole, and I tighten my hold and ram her against the floor harder and harder. Gah, she’s a fighter!