Diversions || on hold

chapter four

I open my eyes to see Exodus staring down at me. I don't think I've ever noticed how spectacular the stunning sea green color of her eyes is. They seem like an endless array of emerald sea glass spread out into elaborate patterns across a beautiful dark sky.

I blink, clearing my thoughts. "What are you doing?"

She smiles, and I'm suddenly mesmerized again by how her smile shines through her eyes.

"You're late," she says, using that accusing tone. "First period started ten minutes ago."

I laugh. "Wow. I feel so motivated to jump and go to class now."

"Land and Ben decided to go just because, but I wanted to wait for you," Exodus tells me. She straightens up, allowing me room to sit up. I do.

She's already completely dressed her day clothes - ripped jeans and a navy blue t-shirt. She even has her tattered sneakers on. I heave myself out of bed and am about to pull on my regular sweatpants when it suddenly hits me.

Today is the last day.

Suddenly, I am overwhelmed with emotions. I'm happy because I'm finally graduating, and at the top of the class too. I'm sad because I'll be leaving Exodus and everyone else, and I don't know when I'll see them again. But most of all, I'm scared because I'm going. To the Diversions. To be with them. To work for them.

Hell, I'm not even sure what they are. For all I know, it could all be a scam they're just a bunch of serial killers hoping for easy prey. That thought suddenly terrifies me. What if they are? What if I'm going to die? I'm too young, too talented to die, right?

I wipe my forehead, surprised to find sweat lingering there.

"What's wrong?" Exodus asks, her brow creased.

I shake my head. "Nothing," I mumble. "Just......end-of-school stress, I guess."

"What do you have to be worried about?" she laughs. "You're only the best fighter in all of Minnesota, Cammile."

I run a hand through my dark hair. It's true. "We should go to class," I say.

Exodus nods, then turns around. She opens her drawer and produces a pair of her jeans. "I want you to have these. Since I don't know when we'll see each other again."

I raise my eyebrows, and she holds them out. Taking the jeans, I examine the torn material. There is a large rip running down the left leg and many holes are scattered across both legs.

Noticing my curiosity, Exodus tells me, "I've had them since I was like ten."

I laugh. "That's such a long time ago. I feel like I'm in possession of an ancient artifact. Maybe you should give them to a museum to put on show."

Exodus fake-frowns at me. "If you don't want them, you don't have to take them," she says, matter-of-factly.

"It's fine, sweetie. I'll keep them just to make you happy," I say, jokingly. Then I turn around and place them in my open suitcase, making a mental note to keep them forever. What Exodus said is true - I don't know when I'll see her again.

The end-of-school bell rings and the classroom erupts into chaos. The entire year I spent regretting choosing battle history as my last period, but currently I'm glad the students around me aren't in possession of any weapons.

I find Exodus and together we fjord the river of yelling teenagers. When we finally reach the door, we sprint down the hallway, laughing carelessly, our only objective being to not get trampled.

We finally reach the end of the hallway and we burst through the doors into the open air. A wide smile spreads across my face. It's over. It's all over. I'm free.

Suddenly, the loud sound of helicopter blades cuts through the clear Minnesota air. I look up instinctively to see a small copter hovering only about 20 feet above my head. I notice that every other person in the courtyard around me are all staring up to.

Exodus grabs my arm. "They're probably here for you," she whispers.

I freeze. Now that I think about it, it makes sense. If the Diversions really are top secret, they must be some unknown branch of the army. And if they are, they probably would have a helicopter.

After World War III, the government made it almost impossible for just anyone to own any kind of aircraft. Even crop dusters had to give up their planes because they were seen as a potential threat. Passenger airlines had their quota of airplanes almost cut in half, and most went out of business. Thus is why it is uncommon to see a helicopter, especially one landing in the courtyard of your school.

When the helicopter lands, my eyes roam over it, looking for some government symbol to indicate where it came from. I find nothing. The entire copter is painted jet black, from the landing gear to the thick propeller blades.

When the spinning of the blades slows, the door is thrust open, and two people jump out. One is towering over the other, even taller than Exodus. They make their way towards me, and I suddenly want to run and hide.

Why would you do that? You're the greatest fighter ever, I tell myself. You're not afraid of anything.

The two people come to a stop in front of me, and I can see that the tall one is a girl. She has dirty blonde hair roped into thick braids that barely reach her shoulders. Her green eyes remind me of Exodus'. The other person is a boy of medium height with short, brown hair, tinted with a few blonde streaks. He has turquoise eyes with surprisingly huge pupils.

"Hello, Cammile," the girl says. "I'm Charlie." She extends her hand, and I pause a few seconds before warily taking it in mine and shaking. I try not to let it get to me that she knows my name. Of course she does. They're all probably so excited for me to become one of them that they memorized my entire name.

Suddenly, I remember what the letter had said. We even have one that has achieved a perfect 600, named Charlie Seigman. This girl must be her.

"We are here to take you to our base," Charlie informs me.

"Where is it?" I gulp out.

Charlie smirks. "We can't just announce it with everyone here listening," she says, gesturing to the crowd around us.

True. "Are we leaving right now?" I ask.

"Unless you have all your possessions hidden behind your back, no, we're not leaving right now," Charlie retorts.

Someone in the ever-so-silent crowd chuckles, but I ignore them.

"Well, then, I guess I'll go get my stuff," I say.

"Good idea."

I turn to Exodus, silently praying for her to come with me. She nods, understanding, then follows me as I walk back through the throng of students and back into the school that I will never see again.