Reinserted

4) Holden (Glen)

My pointer finger lightly lies upon the trigger of the gun in my hand. My attention is focused on a group of Greyson's men standing outside a building. Three of the men, in grey, are Inserts, the other two, in white, are not. The two non-chipped men are having a conversation. From where I stand I can hardly hear what they are saying. If I was going to hear what they were speaking of, I was going to have to get closer.

Across the street from where the others are, I stand hiding from sight behind the wall of a broken down building. My eyes scan ahead of me at the ruin that was once a Texas town. The main priority here is trying to find a way of getting to DC, and the people in front of me are my best shot at it.

A little ways in front of me a loading truck sits. The truck is most likely one of Greyson's food trucks that come around every few months bringing the bare minion to the people of this Country, or whatever you'd call it these days. The two men must be delivers from DC, and the inserts with them must be there for protective reasons. They probably stopped here to make a materials check before continuing on to their next location.

The thought dawns on me that I don't need to get closer to their conversation, but yet that I need to find a way into that truck. If I can get on board, the truck will take me straight to DC right under Greyson's radar.

The only problem with doing just that, though, is I have no idea how many more stops they have until they return back to DC. If it is a straight shot, I can manage staying incognito, but if it isn't, then I have a pretty zero chance of making it into DC safely.

I'm pulled out of thoughts when I hear the sound a door opening. From the truck a woman jumps out of the driver's side. She wears her blonde hair up in a bun, and a grey uniform with the NG logo on it indicating that she is one of Greyson's workers.

I duck father behind the wall, but not so much that I cannot see. My eyes stay trained on the woman walking across the street. She makes her way over to where the men are standing. She then pulls out, what looks to be a pad of some kind, and starts tapping the screen. One of the Inserts beside her turns and then begins walking in the direction of the truck. My jaw tightens as I clench the pack that holds my laptop.

One thing was for certain; whether it is laptops, controllers, or pads, Greyson was always going to find more ways of stripping a person of their freewill and turning them into his personal weapons.

Looking at the Insert in front of me, I do not feel the anger that I once did, I feel sympathy. Being angry at this man would not bring him back, nor would it change what has been done to him. Instead, my anger towards Greyson intensifies as I watch the grey-eyed jump into the back of the truck, and start to maneuver materials. Every move he makes is direct and stiff. If I didn't know any better I would think he was robotic.

My grip on the gun tightens, but only for protective reasons. I don't want to harm this man, but if need be, I won't think twice about pulling the trigger.

And that terrifies me more than the thought of dying.

I watch as the grey-eyed man carriers a silver box out of the truck. His arms wrap around the box as he kicks the back door of the truck shut with his foot. He walks back toward the group.

The woman in the grey uniform takes the box from him with anxious ambition and sets the box on the ground. She looks down to her pad, and then pushes a few buttons. The box opens. One of the conscious men standing next to her stares down at the open box. His eyes are wide with bewilderment as he reaches down and pulls out what looks to be a medical syringe.

What would they need with a syringe?

The woman in the uniform sneers at him and snatches the syringe out from his hand. She gives him an indifferent glace as she speaks to him in what I suppose is a belittling way. A look of irritation crosses his face.