FALTER

CHAPTER 28: The scorched town (7)

Imti burst through the previously locked door.

The air inside the room was still. The walls were unpolished concrete, just as Imti remembered them, but everything else had changed. A gaudy, red, cushy chair sat by the enormous bookshelf that had recently been moved in, as evident by the tracks it had scraped onto the floor. The same red curtains that had been on the palanquin covered up the barred window in the middle of the furthest wall. There was a painting on the opposite wall, depicting men struggling to keep a boat afloat in a stormy sea. It gave Imti the creeps, though he couldn't stop looking at it as he quietly walked into the room, his energy from a few seconds ago seemingly evaporated.

A single light bulb was connected to the ceiling by a long wire, and it hung down ominously, bathing all the new additions in a tepid yellow. The light was focused on the polished wooden table situated dead centre of the room. A bunch of items that Imti had only ever seen in movies before lay haphazardly on its surface. There was a record player with a vinyl disc inside of it, a opened bottle of champagne, half-smoked cigarettes and a lighter in a dirty ashtray and multiple magazines placed face down. In the middle of the chaotic mess was the box that contained the Drive.

Imti gingerly moved aside the ashtray and moved the box closer to himself.

The boy knew it was the Leader's room - he had seen the person enter and exit it during his spying sessions - but he couldn't wrap his mind around why such unusual items would be present here. He chalked it upto one of the guards' doing before shaking his head. There wasn't time to think about that stuff; it was Ari's sickness that mattered the most. He recalled the glob of blood she had spit up and for a second his head seemed to rotate on its own axis. Clutching the desk, Imti traced his finger over the carved patterns to stabilize himself. With a heavy breath, he unlatched the box.

Only it wouldn't open. Imti tried to lift the latches but the lid stayed where it was. As he crouched down to inspect it, Imti noticed there was a numeric lock between the two latches. Horror and panic both loomed over the boy in that room like a tsunami wave waiting to crash down.

Before any conclusion could be reached, Imti heard the door close behind him. The boy flinched and turned around, coming face to face with Ren.

"Oh, you are in so much trouble," He grinned, brushing his hair back.

Imti's knuckles faded to white as he gripped the table behind him.

"I- I can explain," He stuttered as Ren closed the door. His sly smile set off a chain reaction of slowly bubbling anger within Imti.

"You don't need to," The ginger haired boy chuckled. "I've been waiting a loooong time for this." He enunciated each O in the word. "I mean, how stupid do you have to be to do this on the day of your own dad's wedding?"

"I'm not doing anything," Imti blurted out, before regaining the strength in his voice. "I don't have time for this."

He turned his attention back to the box and started wildly spinning the dials on the lock. Ren walked closer and grabbed him from behind, causing Imti to retaliate. Ren stepped back with his hands raised in surrender.