CODES

F I F T E E N

Every part of me froze. Each time I thought of my mother and how she died, I always blamed myself. But I'd put the blame on the food I'd sent to her house, on the supplies I'd ensured were delivered when she needed them. Because it was those deliveries that killed us, too; what was meant to sustain us, murdered us. Poisoned by the processed foods the Government provided so we may have "lived."

It wasn't the coordinates...

She didn't die in Georgia...

Did she?

Shooting my arm out, I grabbed the collar of the man's jacket. He grunted and grabbed me back. "Where's my mother?" I shouted. "Where is she!"

"She's dead, mate! I just said that!" The man shook me and pushed me against the side door. The driver reached down towards his leg, retrieving a gun with one tug.

The barrel pointed at me but I wasn't afraid. Not now. Not then. I lunged at the man again. "I lived up to my end of the bargain!" He pushed at me and when my back hit the side door again, it swung open. My hands struggled to grab the seat of the car as I stumbled out into the rain, landing flat on my ass with my legs sprawled in front of me. My eyes never left the man still seated or the driver who aimed to kill me. "I did my job! You have to do yours!"

"We tried!" The man stepped out of the car and stood over me. Rain pelted down on him as the storm intensified. "Your mother refused... she wouldn't come with us," he hissed down at me. "She called us criminals. Said her son would save her. Ha!" he laughed. "If only she knew..."

Quickly dropping to his knees, the man grabbed my collar again. "You killed your mother, Damian."

"No... No..." I squeezed my eyes shut. The blasts from their attacks had killed her, not the food. And the attack was my fault because I'd given them the position. I gave up our base, my friends. I couldn't sit back and let them lie to us anymore. We weren't winning and I couldn't keep fighting a losing battle.

I wanted out. And I wanted to take my mother with me.

I don't want to be here anymore...

Looking away from the man, I turned my gaze up at the sky. A part of me was waiting for Xerses to pull me out of the memory. I was fine walking through these memories to find the core of my crimes, but remembering the truth about my mother? The actual reason she'd died? I wasn't ready for that. I wasn't then, and I wasn't now.

The man pushed me down into the dirt. My hands pressed into the wet mud, fingers digging into the earth. Even with the rain, I felt the tears on my face. I remembered thinking, what have I done? Even now, reliving this moment through digital files, I thought the same, felt the same.

If only I could go back and fix all of this...

"It hurts, doesn't it?" the man above me asked. He kicked at my leg but I didn't look at him. He laughed. "Just look at what all of your lyings has done."

"I want out." I turned onto my stomach, staring off at the side of the road. Puddles formed in the mud, creating dark spots on the road. Deep spots. My hand reached out to pull me forward and my fingers dipped inside. It wasn't cold.

It's not real?

I couldn't feel the puddle. It wasn't there, it couldn't be. I couldn't help but think it was a hole in my memory; a gap in my data file. Curling my fingers into the space, I pulled my hand back against me. It took a second until I felt land again.

The man above me kicked me again. "You're running away? Huh! You can't run from your crimes! You can't hide from what you've done!"

I didn't look at him. I focused on the oddity, praying it could be my escape. To it, I whispered, "I want out." Turning my gaze up to the sky, I called out to Xerses, praying he could hear me. "X, I want out!"