ROGER (Read Until 7/31)

T W E N T Y - T W O

I'd tried virtual reality once in my life, and I didn't like it. It made me woozy, motion-sick, and I think I puked the third time around. Maybe it was because when I'd tried it, it was Xerses' choice. And by that, I mean, a whirly, toppling, gun-shooter type reality. Still, that's exactly what the headset was—virtual reality. A place that resembled our world, mirrored our city.

Was this what Roger meant by simple? Because it wasn't.

The headset, the one I didn't want to use, was cold when Alex placed it over my eyes and secured its base behind my head. Within its frosted edges I made out the numbers that detected my body temperature and heart rate—it raced beyond belief. Alex spoke to me, but I couldn't hear her—I could only hear my thoughts.

I'd walked into the room with no real explanation. I took in Douglas' plan like a good soldier and agreed to every decision made on my behalf. Maybe it was Bessel's mocking attitude that strengthened my resolve because he was so sure I wasn't the one for the task. But I reminded him, with tightened fists and a glare that made both Roger and Matthews flinch, that without me, he'd still be in Old New York like the useless brute he really was.

The door had closed in his face before he could yell, and I was so ready to be placed under training, that my heart nearly exploded in my chest. Then it was excitement.

Now, it was fear.

"Yo." Matthews' hand pressed down on my shoulder to keep me calm. I saw him through the headgear, smiling down at me as Clark tapped away on a keyboard and Alex turned dials near the closest screen. "Me and Erica gon' be watching these screens with them two. Douglas says five hours is enough, but, you know, take your time. I got excuses made if you dip into later hours."

He moved back to give Alex enough space to check my pulse, but I couldn't help but hang on what he said. Why would I stay in longer than needed? And if I wasn't going to fight in the front lines, why'd I have to stay for five hours? I already felt nauseous.

"It's simple, Clara." Alex's voice was sweet and comforting. "Roger will tap in and react. He'll be your instructor through all of this. In the program, no harm can come to you. Whatever pain, fatigue, and illness you feel isn't real. Your mind will react as it thinks it should, but in reality, you are sound asleep. Can you continue?"

To her, I nodded, but I looked back at Matthews' grinning face and frowned. When Alex moved back, I grabbed his arm. "Why would I slip into later hours?"

"You know, in case Mr. Error has more to show you."

Did he really still call him that?

Roger sat over at my right, on a bed much like mine. Though I was made to lay on the cold sheets, he was all right to sit up. His hands were on his lap, his finger twiddling as he watched me get secure. A part of me wondered if he was scared, but then it hit me, he'd done this how many times? He shouldn't be. In whatever world we'd dive into, he was their program, the drill sergeant to every Peace member.

My turn was next.

"Would it really take long?" I asked him.

He turned to look at me. Even with the glass, I saw the shimmer in his blue eyes, bright as ever. "As long as it takes, Doll. I've seen you hold a gun before and well, as much as I like you, you're pretty bad."

I pursed my lips as I looked up at the ceiling lights. "And you're supposed to teach me to get better at shooting?"

I heard him snort. "That, among other things."

"What things?" I whispered, but by the time I turned my head to look at him, the glass on my headset had gone black. I saw only outlines, like shadows moving in a room. I gulped, my fear reaching new heights.