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

Chapter Thirty Five

Two virtually uneventful days later, I wake from my makeshift bed--a booth seat draped in my sleeping bag--with an anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach. The helicopters should be usable by now, but I haven't heard anything more from Danny. Could he have been mistaken? Will the rebels be able to manage such a complicated feat? Maybe we should continue with the mission. The Atlanta rebel group might be able to help Oscar, and provide us with temporary refuge...
    I sit up slowly, glancing around the badly-lit dining room. As bad as the kitchen may have looked, this restaurant couldn't have been too detestable. The heavy, mahogany walls stiffly support the dark ceiling that holds onto dangling, decorative lights of all shapes and sizes. As far as the booth I bedded down on recently: I've slept on worse.
    Leah sleeps soundly on a small floor pallet, her head resting against Oscar's collarbone. Becca sleeps on the bench opposite mine, and Matthew perches silently upon one of the round tables in the middle of the room, alone, sharpening his pocket-knife against a piece of scrap metal. Silently, I approach him. He glances at me briefly before continuing with his task.
    "Heard anything from Danny?"
    "Not anything new." I boost myself onto the table beside him, watching as his nimble hands expertly work the blade. The movement reminds me of his days as a tunnel-digger for the Depot.
    "I'm curious," I start.
    "Yeah? What about?"
    "Your first days at the Depot. What was it like for you?" He sighs heavily and sets the knife down for a moment, twisting his neck to look back at me.
    "We talked about this, didn't we?"
    "We talked about you being plugged in," I point out. "Not about your two years with the resistance."
    "There's not much to recall. Grace worked a lot with me on retaining memory. Her efforts never truly paid off."
    "Until you met me," I add with a crooked smile.
    "Yeah, well..." He grins. And then Oscar groans in his sleep and we fall silent. I stare at Matthew, wondering how I would feel if he were the one that got shot. Probably a lot worse than I do now. The thought sends guilt rocketing down my spine.
    "You're doing okay, Enna." He whispers, leaning towards me. His nose slips across my jaw as he kisses my neck. "You should know that. Oscar's going to be fine."
    I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Instead, I let him gather me against his chest, hoping that the warmth will start to drown out my worries. His arms tightly hold my waist, and I notice how the sun's rays are twisted and warped as they sneak through the shuttered windows.
    "Enna?" Danny's voice pierces through my eardrums, and I groan.
    "What?" Matthew asks, withdrawing from me. I shake my head and mouth Danny's name.
    "Yeah?" I reply. There's no longer a screeching noise on the other end.
    "I'm sorry it took me so long to respond. Are you guys hanging on?"
    "Can you help us?" I ask, cutting to the chase.
    "Yeah. Yeah, we got three copters to work." I sigh and my tense body loosens a little, slumping back against Matthew.
    "Thank God..." I breathe. "How soon?"
    "We can leave any time you need. It should take around three hours to reach Atlanta." He clears his throat. "Have you found any resistance there?"
    "Not yet," I say carefully. "We've been playing it safe. Oscar's still healing." Danny's voice grows insistent.
    "I'll send out the help, but you must warn anyone you can find before time runs out to do so." My stomach lurches. How are we going to find and warn a theoretical resistance group in three hours? I sigh and scratch my neck.
    "Okay, I'll try."
    "Where should we land?" Vaguely, I remember the expansive train yard, full of smooth mismatched pebbles and rocks. I quickly describe the location to Danny, and he assures me that the men he sends will be fully dressed in soldier's garb to help them blend in.
    "I'll see you soon." The Jewels click off, plunging me back into silence. Matthew holds his breath.
    "We're done talking," I assure him crossly. There it is again: that blinding mix of anger and confusion! Am I the only one that bears this burden, or do the others feel this way as strongly as I do? I have a feeling that they don't.
    "What'd he say?"
    "Helicopters are heading to Atlanta. They'll pick us up in the train yard in about three hours." He looks at me blankly.
    "Then why do you look so depressed?" I shake my head, attempt to laugh, and run my hands through my too-long hair. Matthew stuffs his knife into a pocket.
    "He still wants us to warn the Resistance here. And I don't want Oscar or anyone else to get hurt in the process."
    "Enna, it'll be fine. Oscar's growing stronger by the minute. We'll look for red wristbands, alright? If we don't find anyone, then... At least we tried." I swallow and nod. Matthew smiles stiffly and slides off of the table, helping me down. Across the room, Oscar and Leah slowly start to wake up.
    "Good news, guys!" Matthew shouts. Leah helps Oscar to stand. They look to me expectantly, and I quickly repeat what Danny had told me.
    "We'd better get going, then," Oscar says, jaw pulled tight.
    "Are you sure?" Leah asks him uncertainly. "It might be pushing it..."
    "No." Oscar shakes his head. "I've held us back long enough." Leah opens her mouth, as if to argue further, then closes it and sighs.
    "Hey, guys," Becca whispers, stretching her thin arms above her head. "Are we going back to New York today?"
    "That's the plan," I mutter. "Is everyone ready?" I'm greeted by a tense silence, then each of my friends nod.
    "Ready," Oscar says, face growing white.