Unplugged: The Beautiful World (#3, Unplugged Trilogy)

Chapter Eighteen

Enna

    The morning brings warmth and noise. People bustle around the hideout with contagious energy, moving things and engaging in conversation. Above us, bombs and helicopters continue to crisscross the sky. Danny leads Jackson, Gale, Victoria, Oscar, Leah, Matthew and I towards a towering stack of supply crates. Several individual weapons lean against the far wall between the Dining Quadrant and the awkward shelter.
    "You've all gone through hell and back lately, so I'm taking it easy on you today." His tone is sympathetic, but his eyes survey us critically. He nods at Jackson. "I'm trusting you to show them what to do." I glance over at Leah, who looks less than thrilled about being led by Jackson. Jackson himself smiles crookedly and nods at Danny; he starts to walk over to the base of the crate pile. We follow him at a slightly slower pace. Matthew gives his mother her wristband.
    "Look who doesn't need training wheels anymore," Oscar mutters under his breath. A smile tugs at my lips, but I force it away.
    "You don't like him either?"
    "Anyone with a working brain wants to stay away from Jackson." Oscar curls his lip.
    "Why?" Gale asks. Dark bags droop under her eyes, and dried beads of sweat cover her forehead. She must have had a bad night.
    "The guy does nothing. Literally. He'll bully you into doing what he wants, or what he's supposed to do, just because Danny trusts him." Leah nods and looks back over her shoulder at me.
    "If Danny ever kicks the bucket, we're all in deep trouble." I shake my head, trying to bite down the vile thoughts that rise in my mind.
    "He seems to hate me, but I've never even seen him before..." Leah and Oscar shrug, then Gale glances over at me wryly.
    "He's probably jealous of you."
    "Yeah, well he sounds a whole lot like Luke." Matthew says, his tone dark. All of us grow quiet, and we finish the journey over to the wall in silence. That was the first time Matthew said anything today, as far as I'm aware. I glance him over swiftly, but I can't read anything beneath his casual gait and straight face. Maybe all this attention really is bothering him.
    "Get over here. We don't have all day." Jackson sets his jaw and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. We all form a semicircle around him. Close up, I can see a scar running from his right cheekbone to the bridge of his nose. Before I can get a closer look, he turns and starts issuing orders.
    "You and you." He points at Gale and Victoria. "When you receive a crate, I want you to use a crowbar to pry off the wooden slats. Then put those in a pile over there." Jackson points to a heap of wood scraps and hands Victoria and Gale each a crowbar. They are sent off to the side.
    "You and you." Jackson lazily points to me and Leah. "I want you to unload the crates and divide the supplies according to their nature: food, weapons, or medical supplies." Leah and I are waved off to the right side of the crate piles, close to Gale and Victoria. He doesn't bother looking at us. I crane my head back to see all of the crates, which tower to the ceiling. They remind me of the stacked subway tracks in the Depot.
    "Geez, Leah. How long did it take you guys to get all of these supplies?" She rolls her eyes.
    "When you have nothing to do and nothing to lose, you'll be surprised how much you can get done." I shrug. Seems true enough.
    "Hey, girls! You're wasting my time!" Jackson calls at us. I spin around, hands balled into furious fists.
    "Sorry," I mutter through clenched teeth. Why does he make me so angry? Behind him, Matthew and Oscar take turns climbing a rickety ladder and grabbing crates from the tall piles of boxes. Oscar stumbles down the ladder and drags one over to us. We work together to peel the lid off. Inside is a bag of fresh, red apples.
    "This is a rush," I mutter, grabbing the bag of fruit and setting it aside.
    "You're telling me," Leah hisses. "I had crate duty for a whole month before Danny trusted me to go on missions." My stomach drops. Will it really take that long for me to start doing something remotely exciting? Leah takes the crate and hands it over to Gale and Victoria, who start to pry it apart. Jackson watches us work with a critical, narrowed gaze.
    "This sucks," Matthew breathes. He drags another closed crate over to me and slaps the lid. "But I can't say I haven't worked with an incompetent jerk before."
    "Just ignore him. This is only temporary," I whisper. Leah returns and Matthew goes back to the ladder, climbing it swiftly. We pry open the lid of the new crate, and the process continues for an arduous three hours. During that time, Jackson took to calling out useless motivational phrases like, "Members could do better than this!" and "I'd expect more from celebrities." I noticed bitterly that when Danny periodically stopped by to watch the proceedings, Jackson would cease bullying us, verbally or otherwise. Every time Matthew managed to catch my eye, he would make a face that said, I don't know how much longer I can take this. Eventually, we all became so tired that our legs refused to support us and we fell to the ground, exhausted.
    "Get up!" Jackson shouts, glaring at each of us. I notice that Danny is nowhere to be found. Not a good sign.
    "Hold on," Leah snaps. She rests against the large piles of supplies that we salvaged from the crates. "We need to rest."
    "Rest?"
    "Yeah, rest." Matthew glares at Jackson. Sweat pours down his neck and face. "But you wouldn't know about that, would you?"
    "What are you trying to say, Pretty Boy?" Jackson straightens his back and starts towards Matthew.
    "Matthew," I warn quietly. "Leave it."
    "No, let your boyfriend talk," Jackson mutters dangerously. "What do you want to say?" Matthew stands unsteadily, but his gaze is straight and calculated. Oscar tenses up, and Gale and Victoria raise their heads warily.
    "I'm not looking for trouble," Matthew starts quietly. "But I'd appreciate it if you stop acting like you own us." Jackson stops in front of Matthew, so close that only an inch separates their noses. I hold my breath and tighten the muscles in my arms. Dread rises in my chest.
    "Listen, Elliot," Jackson whispers. The contempt in his voice makes me rise to my feet, despite Leah's silent protest. "I'm the boss here, yeah? So if you and your precious band of convicts don't want to live in the streets, you'll do as I say. Otherwise you're just a waste of supplies."
    "What do you do to be useful, then?" Matthew mutters dangerously. "I mean, other than shout orders at people and trail Danny around all day?"
    It starts so quickly that I hardly have any time to protest. Jackson kicks Matthew's feet out from beneath him, and he falls to his knees on the hard stone floor. Oscar, Leah, Gale, Victoria and I rush towards the fight. Jackson kicks Matthew's previously-broken ribs and he lets out a pained scream. I shout in fury and grab Jackson's arms, trying to yank them behind his back. Snarling, he shoves his elbow up and back. Red pain erupts in the center of my face. The last thing I remember is screaming voices and the sensation of falling backwards before everything disappears.