Cardinal Tower (Trinity Central Book #1)

Chapter 21

"...In recent events, news of a Karma rebellion has been recovered from an inside source. The cryptic message has yet to be deciphered. What you will now listen to is the disturbing recording that was obtained before transmission from the source was cut off:

'On the eve of the rising sun when the elements align

be prepared for the battle of the end of time

It will start with the flood, and it will end with the ash

Pray for your life that these dying days be your last

A society where truth is more feared than the lies

Through the screams, they won't be able to hear your cries

So be aware of your own ignorance before rid are the feathers

Cataclysm will reign, vos mos adepto quod merentur.'"

* * *

Cynthia dragged me down to wing beta by the hand, leaving Silas behind at the dorms. We skip past scientists and people in suits talking politics. I'm getting really tired of getting pulled everywhere today, I just need a good nap. I notice the door on the other side of the Cardinal emblem and an image of being strapped into the Arctiviose flashes in my eyes. I shudder a bit, the trauma of the fresh memory resting uneasily throughout my spine. Instinctively, I gravitate towards the metal door, as if entranced in a hypnotic state that is broken when Cynthia pulls me away. She makes a sharp left turn at the beak of the bird on the floor, and I feel my weight separated as I stumble to follow her lead.

Instead, she pulls me to an identical door directly in the middle of the left half of the Capitol emblem.

Past the entrance, there's a row of over twenty curtains on either side of a long narrow nursing quarter. Each curtain stretches out to about ten feet by ten feet worth of patient area with a five-foot gap to walk through down the middle. Each curtain has a plastic sleeve in the front of it where patient files are to go when they're in use. Only about four of the curtains are actually pulled to signify that they're occupied.

Cynthia, still holding my hand, hauls me down to the very end of the aisle. On the plastic sleeve of the closed curtain, a sheet of paper reads "Aria Bucannon" at the very top alongside a black and white mug shot of the little girl, tears still stinging her eyes. A heavy sadness pangs my chest, conflicting with the excitement coursing through me. Both emotions fight for dominance, and the one that wins is the dread of seeing a possibly comatose child behind this screen.

Cynthia pulls back the curtain, revealing a small figure, hidden underneath a blanket atop a child-sized cot. Kent is sleeping on a chair next to the small mattress, his head laying next to the unmoving pile. His hair is splayed across the sheets showing just how ragged he looked after watching Aria for a couple of hours.

His eyes blinked open slowly, and soon they widen when they see us. He sat up, his face portraying cautious worry, and an expression of warning, mouthing for us to stay back. He stands up allowing me to see that his suit is tattered with holes, exposing his white undershirt below, creating a stark contrast with his navy blue uniform.

His sleeves are torn and his jacket is in shambles, a large gash running along the length of his side. He pushes his unkempt hair away from his eyes revealing a finger length cut on his cheek, creeping up to the lobe of his ear.

He hurries us outside of the curtain, closing it slowly to be sure not to disturb Aria from her sleep while also obstructing our view of her.

"What happened to you?" Cynthia asks. "You look like hell." Kent pats down what's left of his uniform as though it'd help improve his appearance. Cynthia looks just as confused as I feel. We both stand there, staring at him fiddle with his jacket until he realizes that the button he was trying to find was torn off.