Unplugged: The Beautiful World (#3, Unplugged Trilogy)

Chapter Forty Seven

Matthew

I wake groggily in my prison cell/bedroom. The security camera still watches me. The clock on the wall still ticks. My wounds still throb. But the sky outside: it looks much different. Somehow, war has managed to turn the bright blue sky into something sinister. Dust clouds swirl through the air, blocking out the sun, and sounds of anguish drift up to my window. I don't dare look down in fear of what might greet my eyes. While I'm immensely relieved that Enna refused to succumb to Fake Enna's regime, the possible threat of the rebel army's failure continually pulses through my mind like a hammer raining blows upon my skull.
Unable to contain my curiosity any further, I stand and amble over to the window. Below, I can see horrifying creatures of all shapes and sizes as they sneak through the streets, preying upon unsuspecting human soldiers. I flinch and back away as I see a particularly large Reptilian stalking an embracing young couple. Floodgates of sorrow open within my chest and I stagger back to my pathetic excuse for a bed. I raise my hands to my face and--for the first time since I'd been unplugged--sob openly. Pathetic, ragged breaths. I don't care if the camera sees me.

* * *

Enna

"What are you doing here?" I screech, halfway wrought with hysterics. Burbank places a finger against his lips and leads me out of the middle of the street, beneath a collapsing awning. I stare at his hand on my arm, like a phantom's. Am I dreaming again? Am I going insane? A few of Burbanks followers smile at me half-heartedly. Confused, I wave.
"I saw everything that your double was broadcasting," Burbank says, wiping a bony hand across his forehead. He looks several years older than he did the last time I saw him, though I know it couldn't have been that long. "I didn't have the heart to turn my back on you."
"You've brought so many people along with you..." I gasp, glancing over at the patient mass of armed men and women. "How did you arrive?"
"That can wait for later," he mutters, smiling weakly. I can't help but wonder if the journey was too much for him. "For now, we've got some Hidden Allies to defeat. I've brought with me five hundred fearless members of the United States Army." My eyes start to bubble with tears of gratitude as I take more time to survey the out-dated army, shoulders hunched with the burden of a war they should have won years ago. The sun seems to shine brighter, the air feels weightless. I nod and grasp the aged President's arm.
"I'm ready. What's the plan?"
"You're the leader of the rebellion," he replies, winking at me. With five hundred extra skilled fighters, we stand a much better chance against Fake Enna's army. It's time that we went on the offensive.
"Okay... Okay. First, we need to pinpoint where the Hidden Allies are coming from. I originally positioned our rebels in a circle around the Pillar--the elites' headquarters--to try and trap them in. But then I realized that the creatures came from somewhere on the fringes of the city. We should send half of your men one direction and another half in the other in order to track their origins."
"Perfect." Burbank nods and faces his ranks, calmly issuing clear orders in war jargon that I barely understand. I can see, now, the ghost of the strong leader of a free nation. The respectful looks that his army casts towards him also strengthens this sensation. "And I order you all to listen to any direct orders Enna Price may give you. Go, go, go!"
With unimaginable precision, the new army divides and sprints off in their chosen directions.
"Come on," I breathe, heading after the group that starts toward the east side of the city. I find it much easier to travel, being surrounding by strong, intelligent, armed soldiers. I can't say the same for Burbank. After we travel a few miles, he has to make several stops in order to catch his breath or rest his exhausted limbs. Though it pains me to stop moving, I pause with him each time. Soon, our half of the troops disappear into the distance, leaving us alone.
"Go on, Enna," he wheezes, slumping and leaning his head back against a free-standing brick wall. "It was foolish of me to think I could help." Feeling desperate, I eye the heavy shotgun hanging from a strap across his chest.
"I'll carry the gun for you," I suggest. Before he can accept or decline my offer, I help take it off of him and hang it around my own body. Though it's loose-fitting, I can handle it fine. "Come on."
Together, we run off into the crumbling New York streets.