Beyond The Sea Blue Light

The Days Are A Death Wish

I'm hauled roughly to my feet in an instant. Still half asleep, I struggle against whoever it is as hands grip my arms dragging me forward.

They push me into an office that I've never seen before, one that I'm certain didn't exist here before. I glance around, confused. I would have assumed that it was new, that they added it on after the explosion and our escape, but the wood is chipped around the door, white paint peeling off the walls. Weirdest of all, there's a musty smell to the air, water stains covering the surfaces.

The office doesn't even seem like an office. The only furniture is two chairs, placed across from each other. There's a large window against the back wall, overlooking a living room of some sort. I frown, staring at it in confusion. It looks familiar, eerily familiar. An uncanny replica of the living room at the safe house. It's only when a figure moves into view that I realize. It's not a window, it's a projection. I'm staring at a video recording of the house.

Before I can stop myself, I've crossed over to the screen, pressing my fingers against it as if I can appear in the living room just by doing so. My heart aches as I see the familiarity of it all. Though it seems like a lifetime ago, I can remember every book, every nook, every cranny in the living room. It was my home, a place that kept me safe. But not anymore, I realize. They know, they've known all along. The only question is how.

"Enjoying the view?" Mr. Styles asks. I would have jumped at his sudden appearance behind me if I wasn't so focused on the image.

"How did you get this?" I gasp.

"We have our spies," he says. "We have always known more than you thought. You really thought we would give up so fast?" His words send a shiver down my spine. How much did they know? I think back to the attacks on the other Facilities and what went wrong. Craig's death. Gerard's and my capture. Was it not an accident, like we thought it was? Did someone tell them?

I try to pretend like I'm not interested, but I can't help but stare at the video screen, drinking in the image hungrily. I can tell Mr. Styles doesn't buy my act, a small smile flickering across his lips. Suddenly, I'm reminded of the protests, the way he talked to Andy, his son.

My facade drops away in an instant as I catch sight of a familiar figure, my heart aching. Vic's pacing back and forth across the cramped space. "We have to go after them," he rants. "How stupid were we? I shouldn't have let him go on his own."

Alex shakes his head. "We don't know where they are," he points out. "They could've taken him anywhere by now."

"It's not your fault," Jack argues. I catch sight of Awsten and Tay sitting on the couch and relief fills me. Frank's team is back, they're safe. That's good news at least.

"I think we're missing something obvious," Oli says from where he's watching Vic's progress across the living room. I can't miss the way his gaze narrows on Vic, lines of suspicion tightening across his forehead.

Vic wheels around on him. "You really think I'd do that to Kellin," He snarls.

Oli shrugs. "You already did it before," he points out. "How do we know that you haven't been working for them all along?"

Vic shifts uncomfortably. "I didn't have a choice," he says.

"Look, I'm not saying you consciously made the decision," Oli reasons. "You were brainwashed. Who knows if someone made you pretend to be on our side so they could capture Kellin and Gerard?"

Oli's words have some effect on the others. I watch, my stomach twisting as I see Alex hesitating.

"What do we do about it, then?" Jack asks. He looks exhausted and thoroughly beaten up, his face pale. "Blame people? That's not what Kellin or Gerard need. No, what they need is our help. What we need to do is—"

"I think that's enough," Mr. Styles says as the recording cuts out, leaving just the dark empty screen, my reflection staring back at me, eyes wide and haunting.

"What do you need me for?" I ask, my voice sounding hollow to my own ears. "Why not just kill me?"

Mr. Styles grins, his teeth showing. "Ah, but killing you was never the purpose, was it? No, we need all of you alive. Anyway, it's not just you we need. If two of you are here, I know that the rest will come running in no time." So Gerard was right. Mr. Styles must see the panic flaring in my eyes because he shakes his head. "Don't even think about escape," he warns. "It'll end up much worse for you this time."

I stare back at him, unable to move as he smiles.

"Better behave yourself," he says, his teeth flashing in the light. "The Meeting's here and my friends and the entire world will love to see the perfect example of how dangerous you all are before we finally take care of you." Cold flashes through me, horror thrumming through me. It's all a set up, it's always been. They wanted us to attack, that's why they captured Gerard and me. He wanted us to, just so he could show the world how dangerous we truly can be. So they can finally get rid of us once and for all.