Dust

Twenty-Two: Runner Runner

A/N: Crappy chapter, I know, but I needed to publish something. Shoutout to @katd_7 for all of their amazing comments and votes!

Day 37 of the epidemic: July 14, 2138

A few days ago, the governments of the U.S., Britain, and Russia announced that they had partnered to create a bomb that sucks moisture from the air. This effectively kills the Burned without putting any of us in harm's way. Problem? It would ruin the earth and turn it into a desert. The bomb was supposedly "put away". Today, some paranoid freak managed to break in and release several of the bomb to almost every continent. Our town wasn't hit, but according to Emma, the desert-like effects it produces will spread and continue to kill plants that require water. Those water processing plants are gonna become gold mines really soon.

My father was killed yesterday night by a Burned man who broke into our house. If Evan and Emma hadn't been over, the three of us would have been dead, too. I don't know what I'm going to do now.

I guess our only option is to run as far as we can.

The Chronicler is actually quite welcoming when three rowdy boys and a headstrong girl burst into her office, spewing plans for break ins and unearthing conspiracies. She lets us in to the library under the guise of "books for research", and Kyros' knowledge of the library and how it works quickly becomes apparent. With the Chronicler's keycard, we make it past the main library quite easily, making it to the Archives in the back with little incidence. The Archives are, apparently, a hidden branch of the library which stores video footage from cameras around the dome. Only the members of the Council and the Chronicler are allowed access to it, so step one is to shut down the video feed from inside. Should evidence of my mother's banishment and my father's research be found, it will be in here.

With our spirits tense, we manage our way through the first part of the Archives, which Kyros swears are deactivated. We enter into a small room with an electric touch panel and a small slot on it, and my ghost flips through various files on it until finally giving it one last tap and stepping back. A few seconds tick by, before a small, black rectangle falls out of the slot and into Kyros' waiting hand. Etched into it is a date.

"This a few months before Athena was banished. I'll have to look into the specific date of her banishment, but my dad has a computer in his room that can show what's on it." he informs us, brown eyes wide with adrenaline and a mix of excitement and fear.

"Won't they know it's missing?" I ask him, concerned for our safety now more than ever.

"Not for at least a day. We came after the night guard's shift. No one really comes here overnight," he replies, and Titus looks worried. The faux tile flooring is cold and distant, and the metal containers of digital files just beyond the glass wall makes it all the more menacing. I fight a shiver that runs up my spine, but it doesn't do much to lower the fear factor. As soon as Kyros is done blocking the signal on several random memory thingies to further avoid suspicion, I take off running down the hallway and don't stop until I'm at the door to the exit into the main library.

Kyros drives us back to the Riddick's house, and we all quickly disperse into separate rooms. Mr. Riddick isn't home, and Callie and Kara are watching some chick flick, so Titus and Mikhail busy themselves with random activities while Kyros and I head to Mr. Riddick's room. A small black box on the desk turns out to be the port for the chip, so my ghost drops it in and waits for it to load up. For a moment, all I can hear is my frantic heart and the silent hum of the holo-screen loading up.

It springs to life so quickly that both Kyros and I nearly fall over in surprise, a small shriek escaping unbidden from my lips. On the blue flickering screen appears the image of a tall, dark-haired man walking into a room, his eyes as sharp and striking as Titus's. They have the same face, although he's considerably darker than Titus and I. A black leather jacket is taut against his defined muscles, but his focus is on the table a few feet away from him. Lying in semi-conscious torture is a shirtless Burned man, tattooed, scarred chest heaving with pain from the bullet hole in his side. I watch as the man tosses his jacket aside and replaces it with a lab coat, and I stifle a gasp as one of the two people by the table glances up at him with a beaming smile. A smile that I never quite saw reach her eyes, let alone be directed at Matthias Simon. A younger version of my mother, her face focused but obviously pleased at the man's reappearance.