The Secret Tunnels

Chapter 5

"Is everyone here?" Kip's authoritative voice rang over the tiny room. Normally shy and introspective, Kip was a natural-born leader when speaking in front of crowds. The replies were scattered, somewhat tired, but all six were present for the briefing.

"Good." Kip nodded. "Let's get started. First, the reconnaissance. They know my face, and Clover's. They know Lucky, because after his "suicide" he exploded over the underground news networks. Which means the officials have seen his face. Thomas and Silver are unknown, as long as they don't go anywhere near Bayridge. Sejahari can be anywhere on the eastern coast, away from his old home. 

"So you three," he points to Sej, Thomas, and Silver, "Are going to pose as citizens. Thomas, keep the hopeless thing going. It works. Silver. . .Over-optimistic. And Sej can be a loner. Build a character to become. It'll be easier for Clover, Lucky, and I. We get to be ourselves in a very sheltered group of revolution officials.  Gather information from that side." Kip clears his throat, a little of the bravado receding. He fidgets, scratching the back of his neck. "So, we're all clear then? On our responsibilities?" 

"Yes," we answer. Everyone looks bored or hot, shifting from foot to foot in the crowded cottage. It's a bad look for everyone but Thomas, who has come to wear discomfort with a certain air of dignity. 

I feel bad for him, which immediately makes me feel worse. It pisses me off to see that same look of concern I'm now scrubbing from my face. Thomas walks out of the adjourned meeting with two skinny black strings dangling from his ears. At least, I think they're string. 

"Hey." I tap him on the shoulder. 

"Lucky." He smiles appraisingly. "The pity party has arrived." Ignoring the jab, I try again.

"What's that?" I motion to his head. "Hanging from your ears."

"They're called earbuds." He shrugs. "Raided a history museum back in the states. They play music."

"Like the ones we have now? But. . .ancient?" 

"Not so ancient." He laughs. "You forget, I was around when the newer models were invented. So if anything's ancient, it's me." 

Or Silver, I think. I don't say anything, I'm the only one who knows about the first entries, the ones that talk about him, and a girl named Emmi I've heard him mention in passing. In his sleep.

"True." I laugh, and it surprises me. I forget that Thomas can be funny when he isn't wallowing. Maybe I am too. "What are you listening to?"

"Simon and Garfunkel. Bridge Over Troubled Water. That's from the sixties." 

"2060's?"

"1960's, man." Thomas grins. "Kids, am I right?"

"Shut up." I shake my head. "I thought you only listened to bands with that Ross guy in them."

"Ryan Ross?" He asks. I nod. "People change," he responds. His lips tilt downward for a second and I get that he means more than a change in music preference.

"Yeah," I say, a little too quickly, "Yeah, of course."

"You're uncomfortable." He snorts. "That's my cue to leave." I lift my hand in a good-bye and watch him walk away, the missing hunch of his shoulders more defined in its aftermath. 

"Look at that." Silver's voice makes me jump. "You made him laugh. That doesn't happen anymore."

"Haven't you heard?" I turn to face him. "Misery likes company. That Garfunkel guy must be the best."

"Garfunkel?" Silver recoils, for a second flashing fear and uncertainty in his chrome irises. "My mom used to listen to him."

"Sante?" 

"No." He squints. "No, never mind, I must be thinking of someone else. Silly me." I wonder for a second if Silver remembers the first life he said he never had. I wonder if he hides it, but what reason would he have to lie? Everyone has another life. It has to be that he doesn't know he was alive before. 

"You were raised here since you were a baby, right?" I ask. If he was alive in 2016, then him being brought up here doesn't make sense. 

"That's what M says." He shrugs. "That's what everyone says. But I don't remember a time before that. And since I was raised out there, no one else remembers me at that age either." He stares at the trees behind me for a second, confused, before a smile spreads across his face. "But that means no one has any embarrassing baby stories of me. Only M, who wouldn't share them if you threatened his life. He probably doesn't even remember them."

"Of course," I murmur. "Yeah. That makes sense."

"What?" He pushes my shoulder. "You're staring at me like an idiot. Stars, it's weird."

"Sorry." I raise a hand to my forehead. "Sorry, it's nothing."

"Okay, then," He answers, unsure. "See you later." He leaves looking profoundly freaked out.

"You too." I turn away press my palms against my eyes. Nothing makes sense in this crazy paradise, and I'm beginning to think I dreamed it up. Cold fear settles in my stomach. I run my fingers over the bright blue moss, shivering as it curls beneath my fingers. As I look at it, I can help but ask, Are you real?

A/N Hey guys! Me be a good author? Never! Me come out with chapters on time? Of course not! Me procrastinate until crap comes pouring from my fingers onto a page you have to read? Always! Hope you enjoyed (but you probably didn't). Comment, vote, etc.