Citizen

Chapter eighteen

Kyra sucked in a shaky breath, but the air was thick under the rough sack resting on her shoulders, and she felt the need to come back for another straight away. Faint light filtered through the thick threads, shedding spots of brightness on her tan skin. How long she'd been walking, she didn't know. All she knew was that her legs were aching, her head pounding, and there were people on either side of her, their hands still present over the thickness of her coat. The sack blocked out most noises, but faint footsteps and whispers of indistinguishable words escaped through the fibers.

The sound of a door swinging open caught her attention. It squealed, as though the hinges were rusty; it must have been from an old part of the city. Before she could ponder it further the arms on her lifted. She stumbled forward blindly as a hand shoved her, and caught herself against something solid.

With shaking fingers she ripped the bag off her head, throwing it across the room before someone could shove it back on. Her efforts were in vain though; the room was empty but for her. A door to the right blended into the plain white wall. She tried the handle; it swung downwards but the door didn't budge. Huffing, she whipped around, lips parted as she took in the strange place. It was long and narrow, with pale walls and a thin strip of light running around the top. A glass table dominated the room. She ran her fingers across it, watching as the heat from her skin turned it blue. Though she tried to ignore it, a camera in the far right corner followed her every move, like a bird stalking its prey. She crossed to it.

Something shifted to her right. The once white wall was transparent, revealing the expansive concrete room beyond. Walls, floors, ceiling - even the seats were made of concrete. Dressed in grey, the citizens blended into the long and narrow room. In the centre of the space was a circular desk, behind which two citizens were conversing. As a person approached they turned to help, pointing them towards the right side wall. Kyra watched as the man moved, a box in one arm and the hand of a small child lagging in his wake in the other. The walls were split into thin sections; why they were wasn't clear until the man pressed his watch against one section. The entire panel flashed green and swung backwards to expose the room behind it. It was full of people fighting, using nothing but their hands and feet to get their opponents on the floor.

A small group of people were huddled outside the door to the room she was in; they were young, each with a handsome silver watch on their wrist - it was oddly familiar, but she couldn't think of where she'd seen it. In their midst she saw the two that had taken her, and others she recognised from around school. It filled her veins with lead.

She clenched her eyes closed. "What's going on?" she whispered, opening her eyes to a blank wall once again.

A gasp escaped her lips as she pressed her hands against the glass; it somehow still felt like glass, despite its extreme change in appearance. The room she'd seen on the other side seconds ago was gone. "But where did it-"

"Go?"

Kyra whirled around. A man was sitting at the head of the table, watching her over the tips of his crossed fingers.

"It's a special kind of one way glass designed to change opacity. I figured we should talk alone, without any distractions."

"When did, how did you-"

"Get in here? I used the side door." He smiled. The side door was ajar enough for a snippet of the adjacent room to be seen; it had opened so silently she hadn't noticed it. "Last time I finish your sentence Miss Jackson, I promise."

Kyra didn't respond. Her body stiffened as her eyes searched the man's face. Still smiling, he got to his feet. She couldn't help the rush of guilt that ran through her as he limped towards her, one foot twisted inwards and dragging behind. As much as she wanted to stand her ground, she couldn't; the nauseous feeling in her stomach made her meet him halfway.