The plains outside and the heavy winds grew more and more unnoticeable as children ran around in terror and consulted each other as if it was their last day together.
“Do you think we’ll get there in time?”
“You want to get there in time? I don’t want to have to fight them!”
“There’s no way they found Totum.”
Zain, Cameron, and Victoria sat in their train car listening to the pandemonium outside.
‘I was right,” Cameron said smartly. “We’re heading to the danger. Because we’re the only ones who can stop it.”
“We’re still two hours away,” Victoria cried. “Who knows how much damage they could do in that time?”
Cameron brushed the hair out of his eyes and let it fall over his head.
“Not necessarily. They were probably spotted long before they actually made contact with Totum, so they most likely had about fifteen minutes before they made contact. And the Pacifems can’t have guns like they used to before the war—they outlawed them for ‘peacekeeping purposes’ after the war. And lots of the PRO members are still over there.”
The train rattled and shook as it crossed a narrow bridge into a dark tunnel in the mountains, only to reemerge moments later.
“But there’s an issue,” Zain said. “The Pacifems are all against children. And there might be PRO members in Totum, but they can’t defend everyone. Especially the place with the most children. And you know where that is.”
“The Sectors,” Victoria shot up and paced around the compartment despite its two-step length. “They would attack the Sectors first.”
“Right.”
After a bit, an attendant handed each of them two Dusters. They were identical to the ones they had used in Glimmer. Long pipes that scaled up the arm, shoulder pieces with knobs on the top to switch them off and on.
“And we have these,” Cameron fiddled with the knobs, just so he had something to do with his hands. “We shouldn’t put them on till we’re near.”
The white light on the ceiling made everyone feel sick. They bathed everything in a pale, ghoulish glow that had the air of a hospital. The train itself was suffocating—the blabbering recruits, the tiny compartments, the thin walls. Everything felt superficial. All Zain could do was focus on the specs of dust floating here and there and hope that the Pacifems hadn’t reached the Sectors yet. At least not the one his family lived in.
And of course, Victoria took to stretching and preparing, which Cameron promptly told her to stop because he said it was stressing everyone out.
By the time they had their Dusters fixed on and secured around their arms, the windows were automatically covered with metal, unremovable shutters and the soundproof ability of the room activated. Not even the rumbling of the train could be heard.
Click. Click. Click.
The clicks were very loud and aggressive, but at the very end of them the train came to a complete stop. Suddenly, the babbling and screaming in the train car dissolved like cotton candy.
“Attention, recruits. We have now arrived at Totum. For safety reasons, your sight and hearing to the outside have been blocked. We’ll be sending the mentors out to scope the situation first.”
The speakers crackled and then went dead silent. Zain sat there, tapping his foot against the ground and biting his fingernails.
“Don’t do that,” Cameron said. “It could damage your nails.”
“We have more things to worry about than my nails right now. What if the mentors aren’t able to stop them? What if they lose?”
Victoria tried pushing up the metal shutters, but they didn’t budge.
“No. They’re just scoping out the area right now. That won’t happen,” she said strongly. “I refuse to believe it.”
“Do you think they made it to the Sectors?” Zain returned to biting his nails.
Cameron jumped out and seized his wrist.
“You’ll make yourself more nervous. If they send us out, just think of it as your last test. And I don’t know. They might not even know what the Sectors are. But then again, we didn’t think they knew what Totum was.”
They waited for ten long minutes (in which they latched on their clanky Dusters), not hearing even an ounce of movement from outside. At one point, Cameron even threw his shoe at the security camera and yelled to let them out—no one knew if the conductor could hear them.
Finally, when the tension in the room was so heavy it could cause a hurricane and the nerves in the room were suffocating, a slight click from the door could be heard.
“Attention, recruits,” the conductor said matter-of-factly. “We are now sending you out into Totum. Please prepare to defend as many people as you can and get them to safety.
Everyone switched the knobs on their Dusters and headed to the exit, where they waited for the door to open.
“Let’s save Totum,” Victoria declared, in the front.
Apparently, the conductor forgot to turn off the speakers, because then another voice could be heard.
“Look, man—you can’t let them out there!” it was the voice of a younger man, maybe an assistant or something. “They’re just kids!”
“I’m doing what has to be done.”
The speakers cut out.
“People underestimate kids too much,” Cameron muttered as he narrowed his eyes, waiting for the door to slide open.
Bzzzt.
A tidal wave of sounds burst through the open doorway. Screams, wails, cries. A dark, brown light shot in and the air grew smoky within the instant.
Victoria straightened her shoulders and lead the group out of the car, Zain and Cameron right behind her.
It was a dizzying site. The skies had been littered with dark, unfurling clouds of smoke and ashes. Through the haze, sun rays blasted down onto Totum, trapping everything in a dark, ghoulish light. The silhouettes of two large blimps could be seen drifting around far above. Still a bit away from the center of the city, they watched as the buildings of Totum burned and blew up. The tallest building in the center was no longer the tallest building, and its top half lay crushed on the ground beneath it. The city was in ruins. In flames.
Victoria, Zain, and Cameron watched in horror as a blimp dropped a large metal hunk that exploded the instant it made contact with the ground, shaking the ground as if it were a sheet of paper.
“That’s the center of the city. The center of Totum!” some recruit screamed.
If that was bad, then the ground surrounding the recruits was horrendous. A black, sizzling liquid spilled all over the ground and and spread as far as it could. And inside the liquid. Inside the liquid, some alive and some already dead, were the mentors. For most of them, the acid had already burned everything except for their bones, which turned black as if they had already rotted away. Some were screaming and crying for their mothers. Others just sat there, not a single movement, bathed in the acid.
“Bolton,” Victoria yelped. “Where is Bolton?”
The three of them began to run through the field of acid, making sure not to step in any puddles or let any mentors touch them.
“Where is he?” Zain searched amid the burning away bodies and corpses. He couldn’t feel anything, yet his legs kept pushing forward in search.
Behind them, Cameron stopped and turned his head to his right.
“Cameron, we have to keep looking!” Victoria screamed.
“I see him. Over there.”
He raised a trembling, skinny arm to a moving lump about thirty feet away.
“Bolton!” Victoria shrieked as she hopped over to him.
The ashes were growing thicker. A slow burn developed in Zain’s lungs as he tottered forward to Bolton. The acid had already eaten away at the bottom half of his body. His black skeleton jutted out from his open stomach, vandalized with burn marks and scars. Along the burn line, a slight orange glow wrapped around his body as it crawled up and up and up.
He coughed harshly and smiled up at them.
“What—why,” Zain uttered. The tears fell down his cheeks before he even started crying.
“They may have been more prepared than we expected,” he said calmly.
“It’s spreading, Bolton,” Victoria cried. “How do we stop it? It’ll kill you!”
Cameron stood behind, staring down at Bolton with eyes as large as tennis balls. His pupils didn’t move an inch. They remained set on Bolton’s burning, destroyed lower half.
“Bolton, tell us how to fix it! Tell us!”
“It’ll be alright, Vic. You’ll be alright. You—“
“I don’t care if I’ll be alright! You’re dying! I won’t! Just please tell us how to fix it!”
Victoria fell to her knees and dropped down onto her hands, sobbing onto the ground. Her black hair was all undone and hanging beside her ears. At the sight of her, Cameron slipped out of his trance for a moment and he too began to cry.
“Listen to me,” Bolton said. “Listen. I don’t have time to explain much to you. Soon enough the acid will reach my stomach and I’ll die.”
“You won’t die, Bolton! I won’t let you!”
“I will die, Vic. But you three don’t have to. I want the three of you to turn back around. Go back into that train car and lock yourselves in. The Pacifems don’t know that anyone else was in the train. You’ll be safe there.”
“We’re taking you with us,” Victoria wailed. “We’re taking you with us.”
“No you’re not.”
“But you’re our mentor,” she said softly. “You’re more than our mentor, Bolton.”
“And I still am, Vic,” he reached his arm up and held Victoria’s face in his dry palm, “but you’re smarter than this. You didn’t think I would stick around forever?”
“Why are you so calm?” Victoria screamed. “You’re dying! We have to get you to a hospital.”
“The hospital is gone. Now listen to me. Go back into that train—“
“We have to protect the people of Totum,” Zain said through a stream of tears. “And we’re not leaving you here. We’ll be with you until—“
He couldn’t say it. Saying it would make it feel real. The acid would reach Bolton’s stomach any moment now, and by then, he wouldn’t even have a few seconds left. The ash and floating embers were insufferable . Zain’s lungs were on fire, and he was sure that he would start violently coughing any moment now.
“He’s right,” Victoria said. “We’ll stay here with you—“
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“CAN’T YOU LISTEN TO ME?” Bolton screamed. He was no longer at rest. His face muscles were strained tight and he was destroying himself trying not to cry. It didn’t work. “I’LL DIE ANYWAY! I’D RATHER DIE KNOWING YOU THREE ARE SAFE THAN DIE IN WORRY! DON’T KILL YOURSELVES JUST FOR SOMEONE WHO’S ALREADY DYING—“ he choked out a gasp for air. The tears had established a steady flow down his dark cheeks. “Please . . . keep yourselves alive . . .”
His hand slipped from Victoria’s cheek and onto the dull ground just as his eyes went blank. They were no longer eyes, just white balls with little black dots in the middle. It didn’t feel real. Maybe it was just another day in Totum. Maybe this was a dream, and Zain would wake up the next day to take the second test.
The three of them just stood there, watching as the spiteful acid climbed its way up Bolton’s chest. They couldn’t even hug him. All they could do was watch.
“Where the hell are these Pacifems?” Cameron marched towards the Sectors.
Victoria lurched out and grabbed his wrist.
“We should listen to Bolton. If the mentors can’t stop them, no one can. It is—was . . . was his dying wish.”
It was strange to hear the word dying and Bolton associated with each other.
“We have to go, Vic,” Zain said boldly, wiping away his tears. “We have to. What are you joining the PRO for if you won’t fight?”
“We’ll fight them when we’re ready.”
Cameron pulled his wrist out of Victoria’s iron grip, eyes blazing even stronger, matching the flames licking what was the tallest building in Totum.
“Just because you don’t have a family to get to!” he growled.
The three of them went quiet, all that could be heard were the sounds of chaos and terror around them. What the other recruits were doing, no one paid attention. It was them three right now.
Tears reemerged on Victoria’s eyes, but they didn’t pour out. Cameron was shocked with himself more than anyone else.
“How dare you . . .”
Cameron clearly regretted what he said, but wasn’t letting up. He remained silent.
“Fine!” Victoria screamed. “Let’s go to the sectors if that’s what you both want!”
“Good,” Zain said.
Instantly, she marched towards the sectors, disregarding how the other two were keeping up.
“Vic, I’m sorry!” Cameron yelled after her as he sped up. “But I need to find my mom!”
“Sorry?”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that!”
What Victoria’s silence meant was a mystery to Cameron and Zain, but they sprinted behind her as fast as they could.
And so they went; they sprinted. Into the heart of the city. It was a miserable sight. Through the smoke and fiery flecks floating in the air hundreds of black skeletons were visible. Here and there different limbs were scattered and thrown on the ground. Several people were holding dead bodies and screaming and wailing. The panic was real.
A whole mile, the three of them ran. Not a single Pacifem could be seen. When they reached the Sectors, they dropped to the ground, wheezing and gulping for cold air, only for more smoky ashes to enter their lungs. Zain ripped a shred of his wine red cloak and tied it around his nose and mouth. Cameron and Victoria followed. It seemed a sin to rip up what they prized so dearly. Zain had completely forgotten that he even had Dusters on.
After about a minute of writhing around on the ground trying to regain their breath, the three of them stood up, in as bad of a condition as ever.
“I’ll head over to my house,” Cameron tried to yell through his cloak mask. “I have to find my mom! You two, go to Zain’s house. There’s more people who need help over there!”
Not wanting to waste precious lung space on speaking, the other two silently nodded. They wouldn’t be too far from each other—their homes were almost neighbors.
As Zain and Victoria charged towards the Qureishi sector, all he could think about was his family getting found by the Pacifems. They haven’t found them yet, they haven’t found them yet—it was repeating on autopilot in his mind. My family will be okay.
He threw open the door and found an empty foyer.
“MOM? DAD? INAYA? HELLO?”
He couldn’t see a single person. Above, a child could be heard crying.
Not just any child. Sana Qureishi. Sana Qureishi could be heard crying. Zain darted towards the stairs, leaving Victoria to catch up in his midst. When he opened the door at the top, he cried out in relief, and immediately fell into his mother’s arms.
“Zain! Why are you back here?”
Zain didn’t answer. All he did was hug his mother and cry into her arms. He felt the arms of his father wrap around him as well. It took him a minute to realize Victoria was standing there with nothing to do but watch. He turned around and felt a pang in his stomach. She’d never looked sadder in her life. Slowly, Mrs. Qureishi walked over and pulled Victoria into a hug as well.
“Where is your friend Cameron?” she asked.
“With his mom. Hopefully, he’s found her by now.”
Behind them, Uncle Malek, Inaya, and Sana stood huddled together. Uncle Malek was carrying Sana in his arms and Inaya was focusing hard to keep her breath steady. Zain walked over and hugged all three of them. He’d never been so worried.
Downstairs, the a loud bang shook the house as the door was shot off its hinges.
“Get behind me,” Mrs. Qureishi ordered.
Zain held her back and stepped in front of her as Victoria turned to face the door.
“We’ve trained for this, mom.”
“I don’t care what you’ve trained for, get behind us. NOW. Or—”
“Or what, Uncle Malek?”
He became quiet for a few seconds, but Zain could see it on all the adults’ faces. Even if they did think Zain could beat a Pacifem in a fight, they would put themselves first before he risked his own life. The smoke, ashes, the fiery flecks all of a sudden became unnoticeable.
They didn’t move an inch. Three people could be heard making their way up the stairs. Clank. Clank. Clank. Three Pacifems.
Zain and Victoria bent into a stance and got ready to shoot out a blast of air.
The door opened.
Three tall, large Pacifems walked into the room with some kind of spraying machine attached to a tank on their back. They didn’t look like normal Pacifems. They were masked, and their entire body was covered in a shiny black suit. Even their hair was dyed as black as it could go.
“I told you there’d be stragglers in here,” the shortest one on the right said. “Look at them. Scared, would you say? Terrified?” he laughed. “Good.”
“We won’t let you touch anyone in here,” Victoria spat.
Another Pacifem on the other side chortled and asked, “What’s with your cloaks? They look like the pigs all the way down by the train. They said the very same thing as you.”
It took a moment for what he just said to dawn on the two of them. Under that mask, he had to be hiding a righteous smug.
“Are you sad about your teachers? Gonna cry?”
This time, all three of them laughed—only for a second, but long enough to let Zain strike. He crouched down low and launched himself at the left one’s legs with a blast from the Dusters. The man groaned in pain as Zain snapped it as hard as he could against his thigh.
“That hurt, you imbecile!”
He kicked Zain off with his other leg and threw him to the side. Something cracked in Zain’s back. He couldn’t tell what, but it hurt. It hurt a lot.
“Permission to pin this one up?” the broken-leg one asked the man in the middle.
“Granted.”
Zain’s struggle was futile. He cried and lurched out as the man picked him up and shackled him to the wall with some kind of chain he had. No matter how hard he tried to pull off, it wouldn’t budge.
“Let my son go now,” Zain’s mother stepped forward menacingly. “Or—“
“Or what? You’ll shoot a little breeze at us as well?”
The two with perfect legs giggled while the other gripped his in pain.
“Please,” Zain’s father begged. “We’ll do whatever you like. Take us, not them.”
“The whole point of this mission is to take the children’s lives. They’re the main target. Why would we want to kill you when we can kill them?”
“Let me go!” Zain writhed around in his chains, desperately trying to break out. His feet weren’t shackled, so he was just hanging by his wrists.
“You may proceed,” the tallest one in the middle beckoned to the other two.
A nozzle was instantly directed towards Victoria, and as she leapt to the side, a hot, steamy liquid burst out of it and began to burn a hole through the ground where it landed. It was the same black as the acid eating away at Bolton—and they were shooting it out of sprayers.
“What the hell?” muttered Inaya as she stared at the acid burning through the ground.
This time, they picked up the sprayer and directed it towards Zain’s family. SHHHP. The sound came just as the spray did. With all his effort, Zain reached his arm out as far as he could and blasted: the acid was shot right back at the Pacifems. For a moment, everyone was began to celebrate. But the Pacifems simply wiped it off themselves and stared at him.
“What, you didn’t think we prepared a defense for our own weapon? You think we could take down all those soldiers without acid-proof suits?”
“You—were you three were the ones who killed Bolton?” Victoria said with a choke.
“I don’t know who that is,” the one on the right snarled in a satisfied way.
“Take us instead!” Mr. and Mrs. Qureishi yelled. “Please.”
“We aren’t taking any of you. We’re killing all of you.”
Once again, Zain let his anger overpower him and shot a funnel of wind at the tall, burly Pacifem in the middle. All the Pacifem had to do was hold on to the wall to stand still.
The large Pacifem instructed the other two: “Take out the girl with the pipes first.”
Victoria leapt away as a splutter of acid was directed towards her.
“Don’t let them hit you Vic!” Zain screamed as he writhed against the shackles anchoring him to the wall.
“And quiet him.”
A gag piece was placed on Zain’s mouth to restrain him from yelling. All that came out was Mmmmm! Mmmmm! MMMMM!
It was only then Zain noticed Victoria’s lit up eyes did he calm down—her eyes always lit up when she had a plan. And her plans usually worked.
She braced herself for the next acid blast—and then—fwoosh! She launched herself towards the low ceiling and flipped herself upside down with all the might she could. For a moment, she remained—standing upside down—on the roof, and then she launched herself towards the Pacifem on the left, knocking him down hard.
“If you think”—she said as she sat on top of him punching as hard as possible—“that I did all this work to get beat up by some pathetic Pacifems as you three, then you’re wrong! It’s people like you who don’t deserve—uh—“
She had forgotten about the other two. The familiar feeling of tears came to Zain again.
“I’m sorry, Zain,” Victoria turned to him with terrified, innocent eyes.
He was lashing around uncontrollably in the shackles, trying to get out words through his tape mask so vigorously that it sounded like a wild moaning. In front of him, Victoria lay on the ground writhing in pain as the acid made its way up to her stomach.
“IT HURTS!” she screamed. Zain closed his eyes. He couldn’t watch.
“LET HER OUT! SAVE HER!” Zain yelled through his mask as he kicked against the wall, but all audible sounds were muffles.
Why wasn’t his family helping? Fear? They were standing right there! Just watching as the acid crept its way up Victoria’s stomach.
“VICTORIA!”
Just muffles.
Zain kicked so hard that the wall behind his foot broke. All that accomplished was a breezy wind wafting into the room—along with more smoke.
“HELP HER!” he tried to scream at his terrified family. “WHY AREN’T YOU HELPING HER?”
Disturbed by the tumultuous flow screaming throughout his body, Zain’s Dusters were sputtering out gusts of wind at random moments to no effect. His vision was blurring through watery eyes. His heart was beating at an uncontrolled weight. His fists were banging into the wall in desperation. And his family just watched as Victoria burned away. He couldn’t even hear what she was saying at this point, but she was definitely talking to him. All he was able to make out was attempts to encourage him in some way.
When Zain’s breathing steadied, Victoria’s frozen, limp, tear-covered face was visible. He held in a sob. Her eyes were glazed over, her hair sprawled out all over the ground. He turned to his family with anger towards them he never believed he could have. Even in shock, Zain’s natural instinct would be to save her. With all his might, he reached his hand over to his mouth and ripped off the gag.
“What is wrong with you people?” he snarled at the Pacifems.
He was beginning to finally process what just happened when the tallest one held his handgun towards Zain’s family.
“NO!”
Luckily for Zain, someone burst through the window at the right moment, despite it being three stories high, and blasted the steaming acid back towards the Pacifems. Half of Cameron’s cloak was burned away, and the other looked like a dog had ripped it up. He faced the Pacifems for a second, then Zain, and then—he gasped. He muttered a not-so-pleasant word, and turned to Zain again, teary-eyed. You could see it on his face. He had already broken.
Before he had another chance to speak, the big one took his turn. He stepped over to Cameron, grabbed him by the neck, lifted him up, and lodged a knife into his stomach. Cameron didn’t even try to stop it. His body shook for a moment, and his face turned purple. Zain screamed. The man violently twisted the knife in Cameron’s stomach and yanked it out.
“CAMERON! MOM! DAD! RUN! EVERYONE RUN!”
Cameron’s body was dropped onto the ground with a painful thump. A pool of dark blood spread from his wound like a spilled drink.
Zain could hear his own heart’s thumping in his head. His insides were burning, and before he knew it there appeared another hole in the wall behind his left leg.
“Get away!” he screamed at the Pacifems. “Get away from my family!”
The last Pacifem was now approaching Zain’s family, handgun clenched in her palm . . . Zain had to do something . . . but there was nothing he could do—enchained to the wall like he was . . . a strong draft pressuring Zain’s legs . . . he could only think of one thing. He’d already broken the wall twice. And if he couldn’t break the chains, he would have to break the wall. He clenched both fist and teeth, and with all his strength he ripped the shackle of his chain (with a chunk of the wall) off of the concrete behind him with a blast of air. The next arm was a bit easier. Now there were four holes.
“I won’t”—his breath was failing to aid him—“let you monsters—take them,” he said, structured in front of his family. His shackles dangled uselessly from his wrists, chain links clinking together.
“You don’t understand, little boy. This is a wipeout, not a battle,” said the leader. “Move aside or we’ll move you.”
He didn’t move.
“Alright then. Remove him.”
Zain was able to dodge the first Pacifem’s thwip at him, but two against one was impossible. He was thrown against the wall, and this time he wasn’t shackled. The man simply held him against the wall with a steel grip.
“STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT!” he screamed so hard his voice snapped for a second. “IF YOU LAY A FINGER ON ANY OF THEM I’LL RIP YOU APART!”
“STOP IT!” he screamed; even though his tape was ripped off his words just came out as several smushed shrieks. If only he could rip himself off this man and crawl towards them . . . but even his arms were refusing to move . . . just one limb to pull himself there . . . there—his left leg had found a hold, and with all his strength he pushed towards them. He’d only made it an inch or two before the acid made contact with Sana.
“Help!”
“SANA!” he shrieked.
He wanted to shut his eyes, but something wasn’t letting him. His family stared in horror as the acid burned through Sana’s hip. Inaya dropped to her knees and Mrs. Qureishi broke down and pulled her youngest daughter into a tight hug, burning her away as well. Zain watched as more spray was shot and first Sana screamed in pain, and then Inaya, and then his uncle, and then his parents. All burning to death. Right in front of him. His family’s shrieking was something that could never be unheard. Uneven, jagged gasps burst out of Zain’s burnt up lungs and into the air. His mother caught a last glimpse of him and then—gone. Her eyes died, and her body dropped to the ground as the acid crept up her body. Just like that. She had become dead weight.
“How could you?” he tried to yell at the Pacifems.
Zain couldn’t comprehend his own emotions. It felt like he was writhing in agony, moving every muscle in his body, yet not a single one moved. It felt like ages ago when Zain, Victoria, and Cameron sat on the mountain with Bolton.
“Mom . . .” he choked out and muttered out the same time, all the while tears streaming sideways down his face. “Dad . . .”
Some kind of turgor was pushing against the insides of his stomach. The Pacifem let him drop on the ground, but Zain didn’t even notice. A tiny puddle of tears beginning to block his eyesight. Every single person who he had ever known growing up, every single person with whom he ever formed a real bond with, had been reduced to a black, dead skeleton.
There was nothing to do at this point, and Zain showed no resistance as the Pacifems came up to him at last, and pointed the sprayer straight at his head.