Anarchy [ Watty's 2016 ]

XXII: Jade

Being Frosty the Snowman for an hour wasn't fun. At all. It was one of those situations where you go to a therapist when you're super old—like thirty—and they tell you that you have 'suppressed memories'.

Anyways, despite my major screw-up, we managed to make it on the sub just before it left; we ran—or rather, we waded through the snow—into the station just as someone announced, "The 8:45 train for Saturday, October 28th, will depart in five minutes."

After scrambling for tickets, we rushed onto the train just as the doors closed. Everyone practically fell into their seats. Within fifteen minutes, everyone but Alex and me was asleep.

She moved to sit next to me. "Feeling better?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. By the way, I nominate you for the ALS ice bucket challenge."

She giggled. "I'll try to remember," she said, then looked at me seriously. "What are we gonna do, Jade? We've got nowhere to go. They're gonna hunt us—hunt you—until either you or everyone around you is dead, and they have those files back."

The train floor was suddenly much more interesting. I took note of the pattern of interlocking circles along the panels. "Yeah," I finally sighed. "I know. I have a plan, though. Don't you worry." I shot her a smile, but it hurt to lie to my friend. Truth was, I had no clue whether the plan would work. Or if it was worth it. I shifted in my seat and rummaged through my bag. "Anyways, I think there's something much more important to find out. And that is—how many pens do you think we can fit in Will's nose?"

The answer to that nail-biting, CIA-classified question was a rather disappointing nineteen. Alex and I spent twenty minutes surgically placing the pens in his nostrils, trying every possibly method to fit more, but to no avail. Suddenly, the train came to a screeching halt, causing everyone to jerk forward, waking up. Will snorted, and the pens shot out of his nose in a rain of writing utensil magic. He looked around, giving us a dirty look when he saw the two of us laughing hysterically, which only made us laugh more.

My laughter cut off abruptly when I saw a group of people through the window. There were a handful of guys in full riot gear, and talking to them were two men in suits. A chill ran up my spine—and it wasn't because I felt cold. I recognized them—hell, I would've known them from a mile away. The two men were Damien and Pierce. As they talked to the riot officers, they pointed at the train.

I nodded in the direction of the number one asshole and his runner up. The reaction was a collective assortment of angry mutterings and gasps. I was hoping this wouldn't happen, I thought, trying desperately to think of some way to get out of this. "We need to move."

Unfortunately, my plan didn't work so well. We split into two groups—Mordekai and me in one, Alex, Will, and Taylor in the other. As Mordekai and I made our way to the back of the train—the very last subway car—we heard footsteps thumping on the floor panels. Shit. I pulled at the handle of the emergency exit, but it wouldn't budge. Unexpectedly, I tumbled out of the train as the door swung open, landing right at someone's feet.

"Ah," said the voice. I recognized it instantly—Pierce. "I guess everything is falling into place."