Future

Chapter 6: CARL HAS COME

Later, in a security bunker...

"S-sir! We have a problem!" A pimple-faced, brown-haired boy with thick glasses stammered.

"Dammit, Carl, this better not be another false alarm!" His overseer growled as he stomped over to Carl's desk, slamming his coffee cup down with such intensity that some of the scalding liquid splashes onto his own lap. He lets the burning heat fuel his unnecessary hate.

"It's not! See! A break in at the prison!" The boy, who is apparently named Carl, pointed to the screen where a fleet of teenagers with colored hair were running around, opening cell doors and letting the criminals inside run free.

"Damn freakies... Zoom in so we can identify them."

The boy did so, gasping as the appearance of one of the "freaks" became more clear.

"What is it?" The overseer demanded.

"T-That's Jake!"

"Who?"

"My long-lost brother! We thought he died years ago!"

"Well, he's sided with the freakies now."

"I HAVE TO GO SEE HIM!" Carl stood excitedly.

"If you walk out the door, you're out of a job. I can't have my intern socializing with freakies."

"Bye," Carl said cheerfully as he walked out the door. His overseer turned red and screamed obscenities at his back.

*

Over the next few weeks, we fell into a routine. Wake up. Eat. Break open a prison. Come home. Eat. Relax. Go to bed. We were hitting every prison through our own unpredictable system, and it was pissing the other side off. Human guards were replaced with giant robots. And still, we continued our prison breaks. As time went on, they put harder and harder obstacles in our path. 100 ft high electric fences. A maze of underground tunnels, laced with traps, that led to the cells. But every obstacle, instead of stopping us, made us stronger. We worked together better, a well-oiled machine, a whirlwind of flashing guns and colored hair. Everyone was useful, everyone had a place. Even me! I would pair with someone, then they'd escort me to the security room, where I would scan through the files for anything we could use. So far, this had proved life-saving. Holli had been hearing less and less on the sleep network, something partly caused by a growing amount of allies getting themselves killed or imprisoned. Information was harder to come by, but my file-searching was a great help.

So everything was going smoothly.

Until he showed up.

We had just broken up a prison and were on our way out the door when pounding footsteps and wheezing breathing echoed down the hall. The noise was coming from a brown-haired, pimple-faced teen in a tattered security uniform. One of the lenses of his thick glasses was shattered, so he looked like he'd gone through a lot. Probably one of the prison escapees.

"Jake!" He called. "It's me, your brother Carl!" Jake? Who the fuck was Jake? I looked around to see everyone as confused as I was. Everyone except Raine, who was standing stiffly, eyes wide and skin pale. Oh shit. It had never occurred to me that Raine wasn't born under that name, but now it made perfect sense as to why the kid was calling for Jake.

"That's not my name," Raine growled. Their hands were clenched at their sides, and I noticed they were shaking.

"Are you still doing that thing where you deny the existence of your penis or-" Carl didn't get very far after that. Gael and Ebony stepped forwards in synchronized anger, simultaneously punching Carl in the jaw. A loud crack echoed through the air, and Carl fell to the ground.

"Let's get out of here," Kail said over Carl's pained cries. Raine still stood stiff and unmoving, so Pipe tossed them over her shoulder as we ran from the prison. We thought that would be the last we'd see of Carl.

Wishful thinking, as it turns out.

*

The tension in the safehouse that night was like a female stripper when you're a gay man. It makes you feel vaguely uncomfortable, somewhat alienated, and kind of sorry for the poor girl who's taking off her clothes for a guy who'd never be interested.

My point being that Raine was still distraught over the event with Carl, and none of us really knew what to do about it except for Gael and Ebony, who were whispering soothingly and rubbing their back. The rest of us just stood around awkwardly, unsure if we should go about business as usual or try and help Raine, and we had no idea how to do either. Instead we just sent sympathetic glances their way, until Gael and Ebony told us to get out since we weren't doing anything.

I go to my room, laying on the bottom bunk and staring up at the wood slats of the top bunk like my missing memories are engraved there. Spoiler alert: they're not. Just old pieces of gum. I've been thinking a lot recently about my memories. Trying to remember something, anything. But I can't. Just a cold, dark emptiness where something used to be.

Kail enters the room, the bunk bed bending slightly and creaking in a threatening way. I'm pretty sure that since I'm smaller, I should have taken the top. For a long time, neither of us says anything.

"Does our hair grow out of our heads in bright colors?" I finally break the silence.

"Yeah. The same weird shit things that makes us able to do weird shit also does weird shit to our hair," Kail says somewhat groggily, and I worry that I woke him up to ask about hair colors. Oops.

"Rad," I whisper, then, "Sorry I woke you up."

He rolls to the edge (dangerous creaking noises) and peeps his head over to look at me. His eyes and nose are red. "I wasn't sleeping."

"Holy shit, were you doing drugs?"

"Fuck, my eyes are red, aren't they?"

"Um, yeah."

"I wasn't doing drugs."

"Are you sure??"

"I was crying, okay!"

"Oh."

"Fuck, don't feel sorry for me!"

"Uh, okay."

"Action heroes cry sometimes!"

"If you say so."

Silence for a few minutes, then he climbs down and lays next to me. Sweaty man musk and the faint scent of the sea fills my nose, but it's a comforting smell. His body heat is surprisingly welcome, and my brain stops freaking out as I force it to just enjoy that the cutest boy in the world is laying next to me, and he's warm, and he smells good.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"More than okay," I whisper back. "It's perfect.

Together we fall asleep.