Unplugged: The Hidden World (#2, Unplugged Trilogy)

Chapter Twenty Three

Matthew

The problem with being underground is that you have no idea what time it is. What day, what time of day, what hour, minute, second... It's true enough that I have a wall clock in my room, but who knows? Maybe that's a lie too. Maybe it's been months since I've gone underground: there's no way to tell here, where time can either drag by or sprint to the finish line. So when Willis knocks on my door, I wake up completely confused and dreadfully alone. How long had I been sleeping?

"Wake up, kid," he bellows, rapping his knuckles even harder when I don't respond instantly. "Lots to do! We're on a schedule!" What I wouldn't give for some gourmet scrambled eggs, I think crossly as I peel the comforters off of me. Now that I'm here in this awful prison, I've started to realize how my life as a tunnel-digger wasn't so bad after all. Sure, I'd end the day plastered with crumbled pieces of dirt. Sure, I'd have to put up with Luke's obnoxious ramblings. But I'd had delicious square meals, warm showers, and a comfortable place to sleep. Gosh, I sure miss my apartment...

"Open the damn door!" Willis roars, jarring me back to reality. At first a few smart replies swim in my mind, then I think better of angering Willis any further. If I'm going to keep pretending that I'm on my father's team, I better get on the good side of his cronies. I leave my warm bed and open the door to reveal Willis's pink, mustached face. Instead of his usual black military uniform, he wears a large jacket and furry winter boots.

"Put these on," he growls, throwing a ball of waded-up gloves at my chest.

"What's going on?" I ask, flustered, as I tug on the gloves. They only slightly shield my skin against the chilly underground air.

"I've got things to do before your tour. I'd like you to come along." I remain silent, wondering if I should be glad or hesitant. This man isn't exactly prime company. "Follow me."

* * *

Shivers sprint down my spine as the cargo cart rockets up towards the surface. You'd think a secret group of evil rich guys who rule the world could afford vehicles with actual doors, right? Wrong. My teeth chatter, and my dirt-stained jacket does nothing to protect me from the biting cold.

"S-so what are w-we doing again?" I ask, trying not to sound as frostbitten as I feel.

"We're picking up a fresh batch of test subjects," Willis replies, rubbing his palms together like a villain from a kid's movie. The cart almost crashes into one of the stone walls, and he quickly grips the steering wheel again. A fresh batch? I feel like throwing Willis out of the cart and taking hold of the wheel, but instead I nod earnestly.

"Where do you, ah, get your test subjects from?" I ask nonchalantly. My heart beats painfully fast. Now's the chance to find out if there are other resistances, people other than us.

"We abduct them," he replies easily. I blink, struggling to control my breathing. Here, anything can give you away.

"As in... kidnapping?"

"Well, we don't abduct them. The Grays do that. They fly in with their airships and just..." Willis forms a circle with one hand and suddenly yanks it upwards, making a whoosh sound. I grab hold of one of the many questions circling through my brain.

"Where do the subjects come from? This area?" The golf cart levels out as it bursts through the confines of the dark ramp. If the sun were out, I might have been blinded. Willis rolls his eyes.

"Are you kidding me? With those ships? People come in from all over the place! Russo-China, England, the African Republic..." He counts them on his fingers and I nod sycophantically. I don't even know what Russo-China is. "Look, there it is now! Right on schedule." Willis points sharply to the left, and suddenly my mind numbs as I notice something I had miraculously missed.