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

Chapter Forty Three

Enna

I groan with impatience and shove my chair back, standing from the table. Battle plans and rank designs litter Matthew's small dining room. Since Danny had appointed me leader, I've taken on the responsibility of commanding the Depot's rebels. Telling them what moves to rehearse, where to stand, how to file through the city streets without drawing too much attention to themselves ... It's aggravating, back-breaking work.
    And not to mention the fact that we have no idea how many soldiers Fake Enna has at her disposal. There could be hundreds, even thousands of Hidden Allies ready to kill. Here, we have about two hundred to three hundred fifty rebels, give or take a few. Deep down, I can't help but feel that that's not enough.
Hoping to deviate my mind from the subject altogether, I stand and leave the apartment. Outside, the Training Facility is empty except for a few stragglers. Everyone else must be at dinner. Just as I start to head out of the facility, broken, angry yelling reaches my ears. I pause in my tracks. It's coming from the room that used to serve as Sam's office.
"So you're just going to leave me here like I'm some sort of pathetic, sick kid?"
"You'd only get in the way, and probably hurt yourself in the process!"
"I don't care! I want to help! I need to help!"
"You need to stay safe. I won't place your death on my conscience!" Danny storms out of the room and into the tunnel without noticing me. I can still hear quiet sounds of anguish coming from the old office. Too curious to resist, I stride across the Training Facility and enter the room to find ...
"Oscar?" I whisper. My heart drops straight down to my stomach. He hurriedly wipes tears from his face and raises his red-rimmed gaze to meet mine.
"Enna? What are you doing here?" Taking that as a tacit invitation, I enter the room and sit at one of the chairs in front of the desk. Oscar wheels himself over to me.
"I heard yelling and saw Danny storm off... What happened?" Oscar squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, his breaths uneven. I start to feel awful about my friend's suffering. That time on the train: that never would have happened if I didn't insist we move on to Atlanta. Nothing good came from that decision.
"He refuses to let me fight." He sighs. "When you don't turn yourself in and Fake Enna unleashes her army, I'm supposed to sit down here in the damn Security Quarter and watch as each of my friends are murdered." He trembles with rage.
"I'm sure we can figure something out for you," I mutter, not really knowing what else to say. After all, it's not like he's unaware of his predicament. But maybe he'd forgotten. Maybe he needs to be reminded. How can I do that without being indecent?
"It's five days away," he mutters, shaking his head. A lone tear drops onto his nose. "I can still fight in this chair, right? I don't need my legs to shoot. I can still go out there." Not wanting to wound him further, I nod and swallow.
"Yeah."
After a long moment of silence, I say goodbye to Oscar and travel dispiritedly up to the Dining Room. I'm late. People are already trickling slowly out the door, dispersing to their bedrooms for the night. As I travel through the lunch line, some people nod at me respectfully or catch my eye in acknowledgement. Since I've been in charge of basic training lately, I've gotten to know a lot of new faces. Never well enough to know the names that match them, though.
Once I fill my tray with organic fruits and vegetables from the Atrium, I scan the dining tables for any familiar faces. Leah isn't here; she's been training Becca to fight using practice droids and overseeing the collapsing of enemy tunnels. Danny isn't here either; I assume he's weathering out the night locked in the Security Quarter again, staring religiously at the screens, searching for something he'll never find. Many of the tables here are empty, but far in the back of the room I see Jackson. He sits alone, hunched over his tray with a scowl on his dirt-flecked face. His arm is in a sling. Making a split decision, I cross over to that side of the room and take the seat across from him.
"How are you?" I ask, trying to sound pleasant. He shrugs and chases a cauliflower around his tray with a fork.
"Well enough to get around on my own." My eyes rest on the gauze covering his bullet wound and he shifts awkwardly. I chew on a few apple slices.
"I'm sorry," I say suddenly. I can feel my cheeks heating up.
"For what?" He raises an eyebrow, and it disappears beneath the greasy lock of brown hair that flops down over his forehead.
"For what happened at Lucy's." Jackson's face flushes and he sets down his fork, shaking his head.
"Whatever. Can we not talk about that?"
"I mean..." I swallow, wanting to go on, but then I think better of it. There are far more pressing issues than Jackson's past loyalty issues. "Sure, yeah. No problem." We both go back to eating, and another thick blanket of silence settles over us. My food is deliciously fresh, but I hardly notice the taste.
"So things are gonna be heating up soon," Jackson mutters, staring at the table. His mouth is set into a straight line, and he grips his eating utensils in white hands. I utter a dry laugh.
"Tell me about it."
"You've been training with the rebels." He leans in over the table and narrows his eyes. "Do you think we stand a chance?" I don't even pause to think before I reply.
"No." Jackson nods as though he expected the answer.
"Shoot, man." Jackson leans slightly back in his seat and smirks at the ceiling. When he isn't yelling at people his face looks ... different. A lot different, like he's morphed into an entirely different version of himself. "Never thought I'd die like this."
"We're not gonna die," I whisper. My foot starts to tap the floor nervously and I fold my arms over my chest. Jackson lowers his blue gaze to meet mine for a moment.
"Yeah..." I'm surprised to find sadness there. And something else: fear. When pity starts to cloud my features, he hurriedly looks away and gruffly clears his throat.
"Anyways, where's your boyfriend? I've noticed a significant absence of swoons around here." I ignore the jab and bite my lip, trying not to get upset.
"They took him when we were in Atlanta. He's at the Pillar with Fake Enna now. I think they're forcing him to pretend he's on their side." One side of Jackson's mouth turns down in a frown.
"Sucks," he says flatly. I shrug. "If only he could communicate with us... Maybe tell us everything they're planning." I nod my agreement, suddenly thoughtful.
If only he could communicate with us...
Well, maybe he can.
Suddenly, a realization surfaces and smacks my forehead so hard that I almost topple from my chair.
"Jackson, you're a genius!" I scream, hopping up from my seat. He stares after me like I'd grown three extra limbs as I stumble out of the Training Facility.
"Thanks?" He calls.

* * *

Once I'm comfortably curled up under the covers of Matthew's bed, I press a shaky finger to the Jewel in my right ear. How could I have forgotten about them? How stupid could I be? I force my mind to stop scolding myself long enough to mutter his name: "Matthew." It feels almost as though I'd uttered a magic spell, a spell that might just make everything go back to normal. That might heal my tarnished spirit.
For several nerve-wracking moments, I wait in silence. Only a fuzzy, white noise transfers through the headphones. I start to despair. What if Fake Enna had discovered the Jewels and stripped them away? What if my efforts--my hope--is for nothing? Just as I resignedly settle my head back against the soft pillow, I hear something that nearly stops my heart.
"Enna?" It's broken and whispered and ill-sounding, but it's his voice all the same. Bolting up from my position against the pillows, I sob and clap a hand to my mouth. "Hello? Enna? Enna, are you there?"
"Yes, yes, yes, I'm here Matthew, I'm here!" Silent tears spill over my cheeks and gather in my throat, making it hard to breathe. "Matthew, I'm so sorry."
"Enna, you did nothing." His words are spoken weakly, yet the relief they contain zap into me from the Jewels like electricity.
"Can you talk? Are you being watched?" I ask, trying to pull myself together.
"There's a camera in my room, but it doesn't receive audio. I'm facing the opposite wall, pretending to sleep." Overpowering emotions trail down my spine, one after the other. Words rise in my throat like vomit, but I force them away. There will be a time for words later. Now, I have a job to do.
"I need you to tell me everything you know about Fake Enna's plans, Matthew," I mutter hurriedly. "Anything at all. Danny announced me leader of the rebellion, and I'm afraid we won't win without some sort of advantage." Matthew sighs on the other end.
"I wish I knew more than I do. From what I've heard, the Hidden Allies are on their way to New York. When you refuse to turn yourself in, they'll wreak havoc on the city and everyone in it." I close my eyes and remain silent. "Enna... You aren't thinking about turning yourself in, are you?"
"Thinking about it, yes," I mutter. "But planning on it? Probably not."
"You must stay safe. Don't worry about me, I'm alright." There's a beat of silence before his torn voice travels through my ears again. "Where are you now?"
"I'm, uh..." I pause and glance at the room around me, the soft bed carrying my weight, the alarm clock glowing in the darkness. Should I tell the truth, or would it only cause him deeper sorrow? "I'm in your apartment. I didn't know where else to go." There's another drawn out moment of silence before he responds.
"My apartment? At the Depot?"
"Yeah. The Feds abandoned it. It serves as our headquarters now."
"I'm sorry that I'm not with you, Enna." Pain stabs my stomach and suddenly my heart feels like it's too big for my chest.
"Yeah. Me too..." My voice trails off and I just sit there, relishing the small connection I have with Matthew. A sudden peace steals over me, and I relax, lying my head back against the pillow. He's alive. He's alive. That's all I need to know.
"Should we disconnect?" He whispers through an exhale. Fear courses through me at the thought of being alone once again. Even though I know we're only connected through a tiny piece of engineered rubber, his presence seems to fill the entire room.
"Don't leave me," I breathe into my pillow. More tears burn at the corners of my eyes. "Don't leave me alone."
"I won't, Enna. I promise."
And he doesn't. The Jewels stay on all night.
    In the dark, I close my eyes and listen to the sound of Matthew's breathing. We fall asleep.