The Fade

11

My manager asked me if I wanted to leave three hours early, so here I am! (Seriously, though, I started dancing right there in the middle of the kitchen lol)

***

           

The door opens, and one of the guards enters. He looks mildly annoyed, like we pulled him away from a crossword puzzle or a radio broadcast of a baseball game.

"What's the problem?" he grumbles, swinging the door shut behind him.

"Our friend..." I can't get any more words out. I clap a hand over my mouth as my tears pour down my face.

The guard sighs in a 'You've got to be joking' kind of way. He walks over and frowns.

"She was fine an hour ago," Jamison says, still holding onto her hand. "And then she just... went downhill."

Grunting, the guard crouches beside Maeve to get a closer look.

Before he can give any kind of diagnosis, Maeve's eyes shoot open and she hand-slices him right in the throat.

He falls right over, out for the count.

"You are quite the actor," I say, pulling Maeve to her feet.

"I played a dead person in the school play," she replies.

"And what about you, Hals?" Jamison asks. "Crying on command like that?"

I shrug. "I've been saving it up."'

"Okay, I didn't just die for nothing. Let's get out of here." Maeve quick-steps to the door and pushes it open.

Jamison peers over her head and waves me forward. "The hall's empty. We have to be quick."

"Do you even know where we are?" I whisper as we hurry down the hall.

"Sure. Like I said, my internal compass is hella accurate."

Somehow we manage to get through the tangle of identical hallways without being caught. Jamison pushes open one last door, and we find ourselves back where we started, on a patch of cement dappled by sun streaming through the trees.

"Well, that's that," Jamison says, gesturing aimlessly.

Maeve kicks at a rock. "I can't believe this. We lost our weapons and we didn't even get the stupid file."

"Actually..." Jamison's lips curl up in a devilish smile. "I emailed it to myself right after the alarm went off. We just have to charge up a phone, and bingo, we have a digital copy of that file."

"Then let's go somewhere and charge a phone. And shower? And I need a new rifle. And a nap. And food. I'm really hungry."

"I second that," I say.

"Alright, then let's grab our backpacks and hit the trails."

***

"I'm tired," Maeve whines, noisily dragging her feet. "Are we there yet?"

"Does it look like we're there yet?" Jamison snaps, glancing over his shoulder only long enough to give her a warning glare.

"Will you two knock it off? You're giving me a headache."

Of course, neither of them listen, instead choosing to continue squabbling.

I sigh more than once, but my exasperation goes ignored.

The sun is low on the horizon when Jamison finally comes to a stop (and heaven forbid he say something so we don't run into him). "There."

"Where?"