The Program [COMPLETED]

Chapter Thirty-Six

Aiden stirred from his slumber, looking over to find Zariah next to him, sleeping soundly. Her chest rose and fell methodically as Aiden carefully crawled out of bed towards the door, creeping across the floor as quietly as he could.

It was thirty minutes before oh-one-hundred hours. Aiden knew that Rania would be waiting for him on the rooftop, where the two of them would initiate their plan to break into the radio tower. He glanced at Zariah one more time, resentful to be leaving her. Would he be back before she woke up? Or would she find him gone by the time the morning came, captured by Xylem's Officials? Aiden doubted that being caught was the likely option. He would be lucky if he and Rania weren't killed with what they were planning to do. He'd debated turning his back on the plan just so he could spend the night with Zariah, but had instantly shunned himself for thinking such things. Now wasn't the time for him to indulge in his own selfish desires. The entire world was counting on him.

He changed swiftly and grabbed the backpack he had prepared a few hours earlier before he slid the metal door open and slipped past it. Once he was outside of his bunk, he instantly began creeping along the hallway, avoiding the dozens cameras dotting the walls of headquarters. He felt a pang of familiarity as he moved, being reminded of the time he'd saved Zariah from Eden and Maddox all those months ago. If he could do it then, why not now?

He chose to forget the fact that he hadn't escaped his previous encounter with the former lieutenants unscathed, and was confined to bedrest for two weeks following their assault. He felt his chest tighten at the painful memory of his injured ribs, even though they were long healed now. He willed himself to be more careful this time around, hoping that he and Rania would be able to pull off their plan with little consequence.

It didn't take Aiden too long to make it outside once he snuck by the cameras. The second he pushed his way past the metal doors, he was gripped with the harsh winter cold. He was fortunate enough to have dress warmly, at least. Aiden looked around, finding an old maintenance ladder attached to the wall. He placed his gloved hands on the icy rungs before carefully climbing his way up to the rooftops where Rania would be waiting. He was quick yet silent, careful to avoid any chance of him slipping as he climbed further and further up the wall. The last thing he needed to do was die now. He was sure he would, someday, but until then, he figured that he should do whatever was necessary to keep himself alive and well.

He pulled himself up and over the lip of the building, his fingertips scraping the thin layer of frost that had begun to form as a result of the freezing temperatures. He scanned the area, finding it clear of any enemies. Aiden checked his watch. Oh-one-hundred hours and two minutes. Rania was late, but not by much. He began to pace around the rooftops, being wary of his footsteps and movements. He'd worn his special combat boots that were meant for these kinds of missions, and would hopefully do their part in offering them some concealment from Xylem's Officials. They couldn't afford to make poor mistakes, such as being identified by footprints or fingerprints. Tonight, he wasn't a Programmer; he was an outlaw.

Aiden spun around after hearing a soft thud. He relaxed upon realizing it was Rania. She was decked out in all black, and her blonde hair was tucked into a ponytail underneath a thick black jacket. Aiden had hardly recognized her at first. At least now he knew that he'd chosen well in asking Rania to accompany him on his plan.

"Sorry I'm late," she panted. "I had to dodge a graveyard patrol. If they weren't strict before, Xylem's got them being even stricter now. We should be fine for the moment, though."

"Don't worry about it," he waved. He crouched on the ground, using a nearby twig to draw a diagram on the rooftops. Rania observed him carefully, making mental notes every time he pointed the stick in a certain direction.