The Wanted

I searched for the gunman and found him, hiding behind a brown, velour lounge that had been dragged into someone’s front yard. I swam through the crowd to get to him as he lined my friend up in his sights.

This bomb was about to go off. I could see it in Nafari’s steely eyes. I could get to the gunman and stop him from firing at Nafari or I could try and clear the area of i

We hadn’t expected this. This amount of people, this response.

I screamed, “Clear the gates! They’re going to blow up the gates!” Over and over, as loud as I could.

People started to move away from the great iron gates. They pulsed and surged backwards, spilling over furniture and soldiers. The smells of sweat and copper-tasting blood filled the air, mixed with a waft of smoky, fragrant spices I’d never smelled before. The gunman aiming at Nafari was lost in the sea of people.

The crowd pushed me back until I was pressed against the front wall of a house.

My eyes picked out the tip of a gun still aimed in Nafari’s direction. It shot again, hitting him in the leg. My heart dove into my feet. I couldn’t stop this. I was going to watch him die.

“Nafari!” I screamed as I pushed against the crowd and tried to get to him.

His eyes found me. He put his hand up, stop, and yelled, “Call me Naf!” Then he gri

ROSA

From my blind position, breathing my own fear-scented breath, I guessed we had driven for about thirty minutes. I couldn’t hear anything over Denis’ loud, thumping music. The only thing I could tell was that the journey had been mostly in a straight line until this sudden jerk to the left. Now we were still. The engine ru

The guard yanked the bag off my head so violently that my neck did that painful snap you felt when you turned too suddenly. Pain coursed through me like a hot rod was shooting up my spine and poking my brain.

“Ow!” I shrieked, rolling my neck from side to side to ease the lava-like pain. The guard sniggered. The Superiors truly chose their soldiers well. Most of them seemed to truly enjoy inflicting pain. I rubbed the back of my head gingerly.

“Rosa, are you all… ahem… Kinesh, that was u

I blinked my eyes and tried to adjust to the streaming, harsh light pouring over the black sedan. It was sleeting, the light picking up every drop of rain clashing with every snowflake as it rolled over the black metal of the car. I gazed up at the long, metal poles holding up the lights and followed them around a semi-circle of high fencing back to where we were parked. Automatic gates swished closed behind us, pulling lumps of mud with them. I inhaled the rich, mushroomy scent and let my brain fool itself that we were somewhere else for a moment. But then I had to open my eyes. Illusions were smashed to splinters as I stared in front at the muddy path, pockmarked with pools of freezing water leading to a glass door splattered with rain and dirt.

Denis pulled up the handbrake. “Time to get out.”

The holding cells reminded me of the underground facility in the most vivid, lacerating way. From where I stood, gripping the car door like an anchor, all you could see were two windows and a door punched into the side of a slick, green hill. The difference being we were not surrounded by towering forests and birds didn’t circle above. I couldn’t hear the rustle of creatures scratching their claws through the undergrowth.

Squeezing the car door harder, I cocked my head to the side, my body rigid with cold and reluctance. I was inside one of Addy’s babushka dolls. A prison within a prison within a prison. No escape.

Kinesh pried my fingers from the door and slammed it. I startled at the noise and blew air out my pursed lips trying to calm myself.

“Kinesh, you can stay with the car,” Denis ordered, squinting through the frozen rain.

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He was in and starting the engine before I could blink.

Denis beckoned with one arm. I shivered. My clothes ballooned around my ski

Muddy water had soaked into my dress and frozen my ankles. I shuddered. Denis pushed a code into the door handle and it opened. Fingers of warm air and light reached out and grasped us, pulling us inside. The shiny white tiles were mussed by my dragging, dirty dress.

“These are the holding cells. Follow me,” Denis a

The small receiving room was lined with red-cushioned chairs. A small cubicle sat in the corner with a window perforated with small holes like gunshots. Denis went to the window and spoke through the holes.

A person’s face appeared. “Yes?”

“We need two passes to go downstairs, level four,” Denis demanded loudly, like she wouldn’t be able to hear him from her fish tank.

The woman nodded and typed something into the computer, looking up and appraising me once, narrowing her eyes around my dirty, frozen blue ankles.

“New inmate? I’ll need processing papers,” she said, taking her thick headband off, plucking hairs from it and dropping them on the floor, then sliding it back over her dark blonde hair.

“No. Visitors’ passes.” Denis held up his wrist and pressed it against the glass. “Do you need anything else?” he asked, irritated.

She flustered like a cat being brushed backwards. “Oh no, no, that won’t be necessary, Master Grant.” She hastily printed out two barcoded tickets and passed them through a slot under the glass.

I smiled at her, trying to assure her she wasn’t in trouble, but when Denis turned his back to her, the woman scowled at me.

So she should, I guess.

I wonder if sunlight is the fundamental thing that keeps you sane. When it’s snatched away, you start to feel less human. You can’t remember. You’re a starved plant that can’t grow.

We entered the lift and Denis sca

“What’s on level four?” I asked, my hands seeping nervousness and dripping from my fingers.

Denis kept his eyes forward and said, “It’s who. And I don’t know.” But his hand flicked and flattened like he was telling me not to ask any more questions. He knew something, but the cameras froze his tongue.

I rocked back and forth on my heels as my stomach bottomed out and my heart refused to calm. The lift so fast, I thought maybe my organs were sitting in a disgusting pile at ground level.

Within seconds, the lift stopped abruptly and the doors slid open with a chirpy ding.

I stepped out, expecting moldy, rock corridors and single bulbs swinging in cages. Instead, clean, white halls glowed before my eyes. Long, fluorescent lights shone overhead. To our right, in front of locked glass doors, a plush, green lounge the shape of plump lips faced a bunch of screens. The small, carved-out area was painted in soft colors like beige or cream. The only way to describe the color was ‘blah’, as if they had mixed every dull color together to create one super-dull one.