Surviving Patorum

Chapter 4

My eyes snap open to the darkened room. I see the shadow of someone standing over me, but I cannot see who it is. My fingers come up to try and pry off the hand covering my mouth, but when my fingers invade the skin, I feel the brutal cold touch of metal—a ring. Before I could move a muscle more, a whisper fills my ear.

"It's Paige." Her hot breath flows against my cheek. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and an itch goes down my spine.

Her hand lets go of my mouth, and I shuffle to my feet. I follow her shadow out of the bedroom and into my dim-lit living space. I can't help but notice how different she looks in her casual wear. Her legs are concealed in baggy sweatpants, her top half by a long t-shirt.

"What the hell?" I whisper. "How did you get in here? The ID pads. You need my fingerprint."

Her hands wave in front of her. "It doesn't matter." Her voice is still quiet. "We're going back to the gate."

"Now?" I say. "After curfew?"

"Yes, Dally's waiting for us," Her eyes roll. "Get your jacket. We're leaving."

...

In the six years I've lived in this hell hole, I have never left my room after curfew. The harshly lit hallways are quiet, and the filtered air is stale and cold. Our footsteps on the metal walkways sound like bricks hitting the floor. Paige and I carefully navigate the twisting hallways until we arrive at the Hub. The Dining Hall entrance stations two guards. When they finally move into a different hallway, we jolt across the lengthy room and through the broken chain-link fence, and into the restricted area of the compound. Gate 5 is about a fifteen-minute walk, so I have plenty of time for my mind to race.

Paige's fluffy pink slippers tap on the floor as she walks next to me. Her hair is in a bun, and I can see the faint lines of platinum highlights twisting through her hair. Her ears have small diamond earrings in them that sparkle in the LED lamps overhead.

Seeing her without all the makeup and glitter is bizarre. She's usually dressed in business casual, and I know she dresses that way because she has her reputation to keep. If anyone saw her like this, they would think less of her. It makes me happy that she's okay with letting me see her like this. It's much more natural. And I like it.

This side of her reminds me that she's just like the rest of us, and the Founder is just another person. Why does he give us such a front? I know he must look professional, but it's more than professionality. The Richlings look at him as a god—a savior. I suppose that's because they think he saved them from their demise, but he's another person. A normal person. Like me. Like everyone here. He has feelings and wants and desires. He makes mistakes just like the rest of us. Why does everyone follow him so blindly?

Paige slows down, so we're walking in unison. I can smell the coconut lotion she's wearing, making my heart beat faster.

"What are we doing?" I realize I haven't said a word to her since before leaving my room. She hasn't either, and I'm guessing she's lost in thought.

"What do you think?" She says sarcastically. I'm taken back by the sarcasm. I haven't seen this part of Paige often, but I feel like she's talking down to me when I do. It isn't like her.

"Paige—" I stop walking.

She lets out a breathy sigh as she stops and turns to me. "Sorry. I'm just stressed."

"What's bothering you?" I ask.

"I'm just frustrated with my father."

"Did something happen?"