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

Chapter Forty Eight

I sit in that alley for a long time, laboring to cover up Burbank's body with stray pieces of trash that I can salvage from garbage cans or dumpsters. The last thing I want is for an enemy to come across it and deface it. Burbank deserves a dignified death, not a messy one.
When the sun starts to set, I peer around the alley's entrance and into the main street leading to the Pass. There's still fighting going on, but not nearly as much as before. In the growing darkness, I can't tell exactly who's winning. Occasionally I poke the tip of my gun out of hiding and fire a shot at an unsuspecting Worker. I hit my marks every time. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it horrifies me how detached I've become from killing, as if I take human lives on a daily basis. Maybe something switched over when Matthew was taken. When Gale was mauled. When Burbank was murdered.
Even so, it terrifies me more than the prospect of death.
"Psst!" A hiss. Coming from behind me. I swivel and raise the gun, only to drop it and sprint across to the other end of the alley. Leah envelopes me in her wiry arms. I can feel myself shaking from exhaustion and frayed nerves.
"Let's get you back to the Depot," she whispers, roping an arm around my shoulders. Her face is black with dirt, her clothes are torn with claw-marks, and a gory gash stretches across her shoulder blade. She's alive.
"I'm so glad... to see you," I pant. With all of the commotion, I'd failed to realize how utterly exhausted I am.
And thirsty. So, so thirsty.
"Me too. I hadn't caught sight of you or Gale since this morning... Victoria was in my group so that's a given." At the mention of Gale, I pause in my tracks. We're more in the fringes of the city now, nearer the Depot; the fighting had started to feel distant.
Leah drops her arm from my shoulders.
"Enna?" She starts to look scared and I force myself to stare straight at the ground. "Enna, what happened?"
"Gale. She..." I shake my head, biting the insides of my cheeks. "She's gone." Leah looks stricken for a moment, then she tearfully attempts to gather herself.
"Oh. And... do you know where the extra troops came from?" We resume walking, and I explain to her about Burbank, including his death. I choose not to mention how I'd promised him that I would become the new President of the United States. That can wait until later, if there is one.
The farther we tread, the more I start to recognize the streets we traverse; the Depot is near. Leah wipes sweat and blood from her wounds, trying to act like she isn't bothered. But I can tell that the news of Gale's demise has really gotten to her. Not that she can be blamed in the least.
When we reach the squat brick building with the green door, we stumble inside and over the wood paneling. Oscar instantly wheels up to us, forcing himself through a group of three or four injured rebels. Leah cries out in relief and throws herself at him. He roughly kisses her cheek and runs his hands through her tangled hair. I force my gaze away momentarily, embarrassed to view the private, sensual moment.
"Don't think I forgot about you," Oscar mutters when Leah pulls away. I rush forward and lean down in an awkward hug. The warm strength of his body lends me much-needed confidence.
"How are you holding up?" I ask him, suddenly remembering what Gale had said about packing extra food and water rations. My eyes voraciously scan the length of the apartment for the provisions. Oscar smirks and takes a full canister of water from a pouch on the side of his wheelchair. I take and it start to desperately guzzle down the contents, water spilling down over my face.
"I've been busy," Oscar finally says, answering my question. "Although I have no room to complain."
"Any fatalities?" Leah mutters under her breath, glancing back at the group of injured rebels. They don't seem to be on the verge of death, for which I'm grateful. Oscar's face grows sickly pale, almost like it did when he was shot.
"A few," he answers tersely. None of us elaborate. "Tell me everything. What's going on outside? I heard talk that some--"
A metallic screech interrupts our conversation. It's coming from outside. The Security Cameras. I slowly open the front door and peer out into the street when I start to hear words floating through the twists and turns of the city. The nearest Security Cam has a small screen attached and I watch my double's flustered face.
"I don't wish for this useless fighting," Fake Enna begins. "And I'm sure you feel likewise. That's why I'm calling for a three day truce. You may take this time to bury the dead and account for your troops. Be thankful I have chosen to be so merciful. As for your leader, I will not quite extend the same kindness." Her face hardens and I can hear Leah's intake of break from inside the apartment.
"Your leader has refused to comply with my demands and has chosen to mock me instead. This I cannot forgive. Your leader has until noon tomorrow to turn herself in to my guards at the Pillar. If your leader fails to do so, I will make sure that Matthew Elliot never sees the light of day again. This is a promise." That's the end of the broadcast. The screen flicks off and falls silent, while the camera continues to float there like a dark eyeball. The silhouette of Fake Enna's head feels permanently impressed on my eyes. Leah has to force me back into the apartment, has to sit me down on the couch and promise that she's lying, she's bluffing, she's trying to scare me...
She's succeeded.
"We'll make sure nothing happens to him," Oscar promises, wheeling over to us. I just stare blankly at the front door as bloodied, exhausted troops start to file in. Oscar rushes off to help them, and I still just sit there.
Usually I'd never put any store into Fake Enna's threats, only because I know her more than she may think. (I mean, she's me.) I'd never threaten Matthew's life for any reason. I'd never pull through with the threat. But the manic gleam in her eyes doesn't belong to me.
I'm afraid that she's become something I could never dream of becoming, and knowing that the range of her evil is beyond the scope of my imagination is horrifying.
She will kill Matthew.
She will destroy him because she knows that he's one of the only things I'd sacrifice myself for.
It's evil.
It's cruel.
It's genius.
"Enna, you need to go to bed," Leah takes my arm and starts to guide me towards the trapdoor. I follow her numbly, noticing the fearful gazes she repeatedly sends my way. Once the echoing, metallic sound of our feet on the stairs is the only thing I can hear, I speak.
"I have to go."
"Dammit, Enna!" Leah exclaims. By the way her voice breaks, I can tell that she's starting to cry. "You really believe her?"
"I have to!" We start to walk faster in anger. "How can I sit back and--"
"How can you just abandon everything you've been working towards?" She interrupts. I snort.
"Yeah, I've really been fixing things, haven't I?"
"You've been keeping everyone together. You've been keeping us alive. And giving us something to live for." I swallow, hard, when we reach the dim Entry Hall. Leah pulls me aside to let more troops enter the Depot. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "You're my best friend, Enna. Heck, you're my first friend. I'm not standing idle when you think turning yourself in to the enemy is the answer."
"I'm tired," I confess. My lips start to tremble and I bite the insides of my cheeks with my back teeth to keep from crying. "I'm tired, Leah. I'm tired of watching the people I care most about in the world die, and I'm tired of resisting, and I'm tired of being the leader of this stupid rebellion, and I'm tired of being me." Leah's eyes turn down sympathetically.
"Matthew wouldn't want you to go," she whispers. The breath catches in my throat: I know she's right. "I know it. He'd want you to see the war through until it's over. He wouldn't want you to be afraid."
"I know," I choke. When I can't bear to say anything more, Leah sighs and pulls me into a hug. I hold her back, trying to swallow down tears. After a while, she pulls away and starts to lead me further into the Depot.
"C'mon. You need to rest."