Incarceration

Chapter Twenty-Seven

This time Wyatt and I stand up on a tall stone pillar, one of many that circle a deep pit filled with dirt, trees, and rivers. In the distance, I can see other prisoners standing on the other platforms around the pit, all waving delicately in the soft wind.

I lurch forward, my legs beginning to move without my brain's consent. At the edge of the platform, a thick rope dangles ominously downward. My feet brush against the edge of the rock as I throw myself off. My stomach flying into my throat, I am already halfway down before I manage to grab the rope. It slides roughly through my hands and by the time I reach the bottom, my palms are rubbed raw and stinging.

The world that surrounds me is now a false wilderness. To my left, trees tower high above my head and to my right, warm beach waves crash up onto brown soil that feeds into the dark woods.

My feet lead the rest of my body away from the crashing waves and down into the thin, fraying trees, the sun now eclipsed by bushy treetops. I wander aimlessly through the mess of trunks, anticipation biting at my stomach as I wait for a bullet to come and rip through me. Something rustles in the distance, and immediately I wheel around, firing two shots behind me into the darkness. A gasp and thud follow, ringing heavily in my ear.

Without hesitation, my body thunders swiftly back through the darkness. Sweat forms on my brow. I crash through the trees, barreling through branches and bushes, failing to stop even when my feet get caught and I stumble over the lifeless body of the prisoner.

When I burst out from the woods, my hands move instinctively to my left, firing two shots into a man's chest. I can see the masked pain echoing in his eyes as he falls to the ground and ceases to move.

I'm at the edge of a lake. The water is stunningly clear. My feet kick sand up behind me. I am pulled forward onto a dock that stretches into the middle of the water. When I reach the end, I brace myself for the worst as I am thrown forward.

I begin to swim, my cheeks puffed with air, my hair and jumpsuit streaming behind me. It's not long before I begin to feel light-headed, the lack of oxygen making my lungs burn. I can see the other bank now and I was almost certain that I would be allowed to take a breath of air once I reached it. But just feet away I begin to slow down. My legs don't kick as hard and I pull myself slowly along the bottom of the pool with my hands. Finally, I reach the edge and my right hand reaches up to curl tightly around the edge of the lake while my left hand tightens around my gun. I pull myself up and my head breaks the surface of the water, my lungs filling with small fits of air.

There's a boy sitting on a log in the sand. He whips around startled. The bullet from my gun hits him in the stomach and he doubles over, hands flying to his abdomen. He falls into the sand.

No. NO. I gasp. It's Iker. Blood rushes to my head and my heart rate increases.

When I'm halfway out of the water, I'm hit in the back with a round nose bullet. The force of the impact thrusts me forward onto the sand. As I lie there, Iker's face appears in front of mine.

We stare into each other's eyes, unblinking and paralyzed. Then, I watch as Iker slowly disintegrates into a thousand pixels. The dark wall of the game room replaces his image.

I bite my lower lip to keep from screaming as I haul myself to my feet. I have a bloody wound on the right side of my lower back. I wince but keep quiet. This is nothing compared to the pain I felt in testing.

Wyatt lies on his back a few feet away from me. I struggle to make my way toward him.

The wound in Wyatt's chest soaks through his uniform, coating the black cloth in a dark layer of liquid. Using his forearms, he pushes himself up to a sitting position then grabs the hand I offer him and pulls himself to his feet.