Exodus
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Thirty minutes crawl by as I stare at the ceiling, highly aware of the sound of my breath mingling with everyone else’s in the dormitory. I keep wondering—why me? Why can’t Frank and Lena just carry on without me, leave me to rot in here. It’s more than I deserve.

Ike’s words echo in my mind almost as though he’d said them years ago. “You may not realise it, but you are making a difference.”

Not alone, though. If Dani hadn’t helped me when I escaped Emotiv, and Caleb…

Tears prick at my eyes again, my emotions choking me. Making a difference? More like losing everyone.

Dani breathes softly in the bunk next to mine, but I don’t dare to raise my head to check on them. I try to listen to their breathing, figure out whether the Composure has taken full effect yet. It only took a few moments in Lena’s warehouse, so it should be done by now. Dani wasn’t uttering random words, or rocking back and forth on their bunk… So they were ready. 

I close my eyes and count my breaths, trying to figure out my plan. Wait for shift change, when the Wardens would assemble in the office together and hand over information for the next shift. Sneak out. Head to the Pit, find the keycard, and get the hell out of here.

With nothing much else to go on, that was all I had to work with. Cross my fingers, and hope.

Then I remember Melly’s soft voice speaking to me down in solitary. I had more to work with—just like back in Emotiv; I had eyes looking out for me.

Ike paces slowly past our cubicle, heading back to the office. Looking in at me for the briefest of moments, he taps the tiled wall—once.

Yes. 

It’s time.

I shift to watch him pace the floor, wishing he’d walk just a little faster, but he keeps up his snail-like pace, checking in on each cubicle as he goes. 

“Time?” Dani whispers next to me.

I look over at them and nod, signing in the dim light. “We’re getting out. Just a little longer. When Ike gets to the office, we go down to the Pit.”

“What then?”

“I have no idea. There’s a keycard. Maybe we can find the exit.”

The Luck should last well into midnight before the effects begin to wear off. We can only hope. I check on Ike again and see him at the office door.

“Come on,” I signed to Dani. “It’s time.”

We creep out of our bunks and tiptoe to the cubicle entrance. Dani leaves first, keeping their head down behind the half wall to avoid detection. As I sneak past Bennett’s bunk, her hand shoots out and grips my wrist.

“We’re coming, too,” she hisses.

I shake my head. “It’s too risky. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck that.” Bennett sits up in her bunk, still gripping my wrist. “If you don’t want me to kick and scream and create a whole heap of shit for you, you’re letting us come.”

I check on Jenna, whose wide eyes stare back in perplexed fear, holding her blankets up to her chin.

So much for our Luck not wearing out. I roll my eyes and nod, holding a finger over my mouth to tell Bennett to stay quiet. 

We file out of the cubicle and slink along the corridor, moving as quickly as we dare without drawing attention. Dani leads the way, thankfully remembering the route to the Pit, despite being shrouded in a blanket of confusion for the past few weeks. 

Once we reach the dormitory exit, I risk one glance back at the warden’s office, checking on the large window that overlooks the dormitory. Ike is watching from the back of the room, chatting to the other wardens, who have their back turned to us. Presumably he’s distracting them while we leave. I send him a silent thanks and turn to run down the corridor to the pit.

Dark and deserted, the corridors wind past other dormitories, a long soulless tunnel to the factory floor. By some miracle, we reach the pit without meeting a single warden. 

Production continues in the factory for almost twenty-four hours, with just a few hours in between to allow the machinery to switch over for the next day’s product. As we enter the pit, tiptoeing along the steel walkway suspended over the assembly line, I keep my eyes peeled for any workers dealing with the machinery.

Dani sees them first—maybe their Luck hasn’t run out yet, after all—pointing out two shadowy figures on the far side of the factory, muttering to each other while they swap out an oven.

We nod and descend the steps on the opposite side of the walkway, creeping among the assembly lines and keeping our heads low.  

“I’m tellin’ ya, Harvey, I saw something!” 

At the sound of the mechanic’s voice, we freeze in place, eyes wide. Surely they haven’t seen us from this far away? But the other man chuckles softly.

“Daydreaming again, eh? And who was it this time?”

“A woman. Blonde, sexy.”

“Oh, aye? I suppose she fell in love with you, too?”

“She didn’t see me, dumbass. Her clothes were proper odd—all leather and studs.”

Lena. Dani and I mouthed at each other excitedly. 

Nodding to Bennett and Jenna, we point the way to the back room and continue creeping behind the assembly line while Harvey and his work buddy jeer about Lena’s ass.

Bennett reaches the door first and opens it too suddenly. A loud groan of rusty metal hinges echoes through the pit. 

“What was that?” A mechanic mutters.

“Just the wind,” the first replies. “Come on, gimme a hand with this thing.”

Bennett frowns, her dark eyes staring deep into mine for help. Dani and I move as one, joining her and holding the door firmly. We count silently, mouthing for Bennett to see. One, two—

On three, we all open the door, putting pressure against the hinges to stop them squeaking. Jenna watches us in mouse-like awe, seemingly too afraid to move. Bennett grabs her hand and pulls her inside after us.

The lights flicker on automatically, reflecting from the many rows of steel lockers lined up throughout the small room. I take Ike’s note from my vest and check the locker number. 

“2310,” I whisper. “There’s a keycard—”

“Top right, Kyla,” answers a voice from the ceiling. 

“Melly,” I breathe. “It’s good to hear you again.”

“Happy to serve,” she replies in a flat tone, but there’s a hint of pride in her voice. “Now, top right, and I’ll guard you the rest of the way.”

We find the locker quickly, and it opens easily. Inside, I find yet another small vial and a silver keycard. 

Bennett frowns, pointing at the bottle. “What’s that?”

I turn it slowly, almost laughing when I read the label written in bright orange letters. Blessed.

“That’s our way out,” I say, showing Dani, who smiles in understanding. 

“You should take it,” they say, pushing it back to my chest. ‘You’re used to how it works already.”

I can’t help but notice Bennett’s scowl as I uncork the vial and down the orange syrup, wincing as it slides down my throat—a thick glob of slimy sugar. Just like before, a swarm of pin pricks surrounds me, jabbing at my skin and crawling up my neck like a flood of locusts trying to creep inside my brain. I squeeze my eyes shut and clamp my lips tight, holding my head and crouching to make myself small.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stops, and a calm feeling of bliss washes over me. A familiar voice whispers comforting words right into my mind, soothing me.

Hi again, everything’s okay.

I look up and stare right into Dani’s warm brown eyes. They hold out a hand and help me up. “Okay?”

I nod. This way. “This way.”

We weave through the assortment of lockers and storage boxes, pushing our way through to the back wall. 

“Ike is waiting for you all,” Melly says calmly, just loud enough for us to hear. “Just keep going. I’ll keep watch for any wardens.”

Wait. “Wait.” I hold up a hand, urging everyone against the wall, ducking out of sight. I can just make out distant footsteps, getting louder.

No, not that. I frown, glancing to my left. Jenna hides behind a pallet stacked with gigantic boxes, her body trembling. I give her a reassuring smile and reach for the lid, opening it and peeking inside.

The box is filled with small bottles, each containing clear liquid. To anyone who hadn’t slaved away in the pit making them, they would look like nothing more than water bottles. Though I hadn’t been working today, I instantly recognise the bottle as one I drank during Harding’s first interrogation.

“Honesty,” I mutter.

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