The next day in the Game Control Room I stare intently at the monitor, my hands balling tightly into fists under the desk.
"Maxwell!" Thomas's voice comes from behind me and I jump. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I respond, having to fight to keep my voice steady. My eyes never move from the screen.
It depicts a girl with frizzy black hair seated uncomfortably in a racing car. She jolts violently in her seat as the car bolts down the track straight toward a brick wall. I close my eyes before the crash comes and keep them closed for the rest of my time in the Game Control Room.
Desperately, I try to distract myself from the monitor. 4435982. 4435982. I have repeated the sequence in my head so many times that it's now committed to my memory. 4435982. 4435982. What does it mean? Is it a quantity? A password? A code? A code . . . code . . . code . . .
I rack my memory for anything I had learned as a guard that would piece the message together. Use the code. Use it for what? What code? The unanswerable questions float in my head tantalizingly.
"Maxwell!" It's Thomas's voice again.
Thoughts broken, my eyes fling open immediately.
"Have you even been watching?" he asks incredulously.
"Yes," I say quickly, returning my gaze to the monitor.
"Come on," he says, sighing. "Time's up anyway. Let's go."
I gladly get up from the desk and return to my cell.
"I thought you weren't playing the game." The words spill out of Emma's mouth before she can help herself.
My eyes flicker open from my afternoon nap. "Huh?" I say, taken aback. "I'm not."
"Oh," she says. I can see the obvious question burning in her eyes and her struggle to restrain it.
"It's a temp job," I say, taking pity on her. "It's in the Game Control Room."
"That's cool," she says, "So are you working with code and stuff?"
The word catches my ear and suddenly I become more focused on Emma, sitting up and looking over at her.
"What did you say?" I ask, heart racing.
Confused, she slowly repeats, "Are you working with computer code?"
Code. Use the code. The message floods my mind.
"Yeah," I say grinning at Emma, "I think I am."
YOU ARE READING
Incarceration
Science FictionIn the dystopian world of Madina City, officials are determined to enforce all rules and punish all offenders. So they've built Ranum Correctional Institute , where people, including kids, are incarcerated for even the most minor offenses. And no...
