CODES

T W E N T Y - F O U R

An alarm went off in my head.

Opening my eyes, I found sunlight had bled in through my window's curtains. I blinked as I stared at the rays slicing through the white dust in the air. The small dots moved in circular motions, swaying with the sun's light. But as I blinked, the alarm made sense, and so did the missed messages in my pane of view.

The alarm meant I was late.

And the messages were from Xerses and Clara.

The first message I opened was from Xerses. Even without audio, I knew he was frantic. "You are two hours late and Prime is going on with the Domes unveiling without you. WHERE ARE YOU?!"

The message from Clara was the same, yet, angrier. Scolding. And with hers came audio.

Sitting up in bed, I swung my legs over the side and listened.

"Not only are you a liar, but you're also irresponsible," she said. "Everyone waited for you to show up, but nope, you're not here. Do you know who is, though? Polk. The man you can't stand."

Tapping into my internal computer, I let the device in my head play the day's news over my eyes. Articles had already been published. Many of the Province's citizens were happy about the unveiling, cheering, and rooting for the rights of Codes. Then there were the protests, the fights.

How can all of this be on the internet already?

Sliding my hand over my face, I took in a slow, long breath.

I'll never fit in... I'll never get used to this.

Another message notification appeared; the tiny symbol flashed in the corner of my eye. Holding my breath, I opened it, and let the words hit my ears. It was Clara one more time. "You won't believe what Polk's telling me right now—"

My head snapped up. Quickly, I rushed to the television, sliding my hand over the screen. It reacted immediately, already settled on the Domes' live broadcast. In the corner of the open area, still within sight of the cameras, were Clara and Polk. She looked sad with her hands on her mouth. Polk was close; he had to be whispering in her ear. Anger boiled in my stomach.

"—This is more than you've ever told me, more... than I ever... I can't do this, Roger. Forget a liar. You're a monster."

"Fuck!" I punched the screen. The glass cracked. Shards pushed into my skin. I pulled back without feeling pain. With my heart hammering in my chest, I knew I had to do something. If he was already telling Clara my truths, what else would he say? What else would he do? He didn't have the thoughts of the Codes in mind. He wanted revenge. And blamed me.

He's going to ruin my life...all of our lives

Without a second thought, I turned towards the couch and reached into the cushion for the gun I had tucked away. It burned against my fingertips.  I wasn't sure if that feeling was real, or if it was me. Was I burning? I was angry. Enraged. And I needed to fix this. Now.

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Crowds filled the streets. I pushed through the groups, apologizing as they grunted or eyes me with frustration. It didn't matter what they thought they felt, it couldn't have matched mine.

I'd made an image for myself. I was an honorable man. When I was alive during WWIII, I'd done questionable things, but I'd done them to save those I cared about, my close family. And it'd all blown up in my face.

Did I help the west with the war? No, I didn't. Had I helped the east? Negative. I had been a failure in the middle of the lot, jumping from one side to the next.

I wouldn't let that happen again. I couldn't. As I pushed through the last group of excited onlookers and eyed the ribbon securing the Domes' gates, I eyed Polk and his devilish face; the demon who would take my life, my world from me. But he wouldn't. Not while I was alive.

"Roger?" I heard my name from the left. I didn't look at whoever it was. I was focused on Polk, holding the scissors to cut the unveiling ribbon. Prime cheered beside him, hands up to the excited crowd. His smile enraged me. No, it wasn't that he was happy; it was the faith he placed in the man beside him.

"Roger, hey." A hand landed on my shoulder, forcing me to side-step and turn. I glanced at the hand before looking at a face. Matthews. He frowned. "You're late," he said.

I didn't answer him. I turned my head, looking back at the ribbon ceremony. It'd been cut. The sash fell to the ground. While the Codes cheered in happiness, the protestors beyond the gates screamed, booed; a bottle crashed in the parking lot.

I watched as Polk turned, grinning at them. Then he looked back into the crowd, at us. At me. I gulped as we locked eyes.

"I'm gon' tell X you're here, okay?" Matthews walked past me, accidentally bumping my shoulder. "This way y'all—"

I stumbled, and when I did, the gun fell out of the back of my jeans. My eyes widened as it dropped at my feet. Panic filled me was Matthews noticed it, then snapped his head straight in my direction. Before he could grab the gun, I did. I reacted faster than any human could.

"Rog, don't," he said, lifting his hands. "I don't know why ya have that, but—"

I wrapped my fingers against the hilt of the gun. My finger brushed across the trigger, but I didn't point. I didn't want to hurt Matthews. He was my friend. My rage was for someone else.

Clenching my jaw, I shook my head. "Move," I said.

I'd made up my mind when I brought a weapon with me. Hell, I'd say the decision was made when I took the gun from the stash Matthews had found in the basement. What Polk was starting required more than peace, more than calm negotiations; he was releasing the violent memories of those who suffered the most. Telling someone to relax after they've been lied to wouldn't solve anyone's problem. But shooting and killing the culprit might.

At least, I hoped.

With my head, I motioned for Matthews to get out of my way. He didn't. He stayed in front of me, taking deep breaths. "Rog, I don't know what—"

He didn't want to move, fine. I couldn't wait.

Looking past him, I focused on Polk. His hand stretched out, fingers extended toward Clara. She gave him a weak smile, what I thought was politeness. Yet, when she grabbed his hand, my mind stopped.

No. This didn't make sense. What could he have said that made her change her mind so quickly? How could weeks of working with him suddenly make him a savior? How could she excuse everything he'd done?

Gripping the gun tighter, I pushed through the crowd with my weapon extended. I pointed it at his head. Both eyes open. Clara immediately looked up and saw me. Her eyes widened; the tablet in her hands fell to the ground. "Roger!" she shrieked.

Her fear resonated in with the crowds. No one had noticed me at first. Now, all eyes fell on me. Codes stepped away, whimpering, murmuring. The protestors whooped and declared that they'd known this would happen; Codes were monsters waiting to explode.

Well, if I was a monster, I needed to be one to take one down.

I stopped just a few feet from Polk and released the gun's safety.

"Roger." Polk's brows lifted as he lifted his hands in his defense. Still, he grinned. "Come on..."

No. I wouldn't come on.

Adjusting my fingers, the gun fit so perfectly in my hands. Its metal, still warm, brought back so many memories I'd learned to suppress. I didn't want to be the man standing in front of them, I wanted to grow and change. But let society remind me of my place...

Polk had fed that fire. And I watched it burn.

"Roger, don't!" Clara's tearful face came in front of me as she tried to take the gun from my hands. "Please, I don't know what you're thinking, but you don't.... I need you to listen to me. You don't have to do this! "

I couldn't look at her. I didn't want to see the pain in her eyes. I'd caused enough of it the past few weeks, but I couldn't let him create more of it. Not for her. Not for anyone.

"That's the thing, Doll..." I tilted my head back and inhaled sharply. "I've got no other choice."

The sound of a bullet firing never sounded so nice...