* * *

The next morning, or what Sarah assumed was morning from her windowless point of view, there was a light tap at her door.

She rubbed her eyes and tried to sit up, then gave up halfway through.

Note to self: hysterically trying to break down doors with still-healing ribs, not good.

The door inched open. “Can I come in?”

It was Pegasus again.

Sarah grumbled a reply.

He was still pale and the circle around his eyes a little too dark, but his mood was visibly better compared to last night. His appearance as well. His clothes were neat and his hair looked like it had seen a comb.

“Come on, get up,” he said when she didn’t move.

“This early? Why?”

He laughed. “It’s the middle of the day.”

Windowless room: one. Internal clock: zero.

She struggled to sit up, unable to get her breathing under control.

Pegasus offered her a hand. “Are you fine with my help?”

Sarah nodded. Not like she had options.

He moved her legs to the side of the bed, pulling her forward until she could stand. Sarah clenched her jaw. The pain in her chest was back to what it had been a week ago. And why were her legs giving out? Did she kick the door yesterday or something?

Pegasus gave her a once-over. “I guess we can take the wheelchair.”

Sarah was still frowning at him when he handed her a pair of pants and a shirt.

“They’re Robyn’s,” he said. “You look like you’re the same size.”

“You looted her things?”

“That’s what you’re focusing on?”

Was it just her or did he sound like Robyn?

She stopped right before trying to shrug, just in case it hurt. Robyn hated people going through her stuff, but if he wanted to live dangerously, she wasn’t going to complain. “Where am I going?”

“We’re going to the cemetery.”

“I thought you said there was no point in going.”

“You said it might help you. Your sister’s not here to object—or beat me to a pulp—and you are not a child. We’re not sure how safe it is for you outside,” he warned. “But if you’re stupid enough to want to go, I’ll be stupid enough to take you.”

“Never mind stupid, are you well enough to go anywhere?” He looked like he needed the wheelchair more than she did.

He shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

Sarah clutched the clothes tighter. “I wanna go.”

“Get changed then. I’ll go get the wheelchair back.” He paused. “Should I get someone to help you change?”

She shook her head. “I’ll manage.”

Beads of sweat forming on her temples from the effort of changing her clothes, Sarah was glad for the wheelchair. She wondered if Pegasus was playing a trick on her, but he’d gotten her out of her room and now they were on an elevator going up.

He rolled her out into a slightly larger hallway. “This is where we keep our regular vehicles.”

When they stopped at a closed door with a panel next to it, Pegasus parked her next to a monitor and stood to the side, facing away from it.

“Press the green button,” he instructed.

Sarah did as he asked. A small combination of letters appeared on the screen in front of her.

“You’ll have to memorize that for when we come back. Don’t tell me or speak it aloud at any point, and don’t write it down anywhere.”

Sarah frowned at his back.

“It’s one of our security precautions. Everyone going out and coming in has to do this.”

She kept frowning. “Can’t you use blood, or fingerprints, or even iris scanner thingies like in the movies?”

He chuckled. “All that can be thwarted. Memory is harder to fake.”

“What happens if I forget?”

“Don’t.”

She turned back to the screen and tried running it through her mind a few times. She resorted to using mnemonics.

Building a box out of chickens is fun. She tried changing the chickens to cards or cardboard immediately after she thought of it, but the phrase was stuck in her head by then, and chickens it was. The most she could do was try her best not to think of a box made of chickens. “Okay, got it.”

“Now use the pad to type in some sort of password.”

“Really?”

“Just do it.”

She did as he asked, picking something she’d easily remember. Once she was done, she stepped aside. Pegasus repeated her actions, except he barely looked at the screen before he shut it off.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“You guys afraid of a clone invasion in the near future?”

“Guess so.” The look he gave her made her slightly uncomfortable. Then he smiled, leading her through the large doors.

What awaited beyond was sadly not the outside. It looked like a regular underground parking garage.

Sarah hadn’t really considered where they were, geographically speaking. They had to be still in the city or close enough if they were driving over to where her parents would be buried.

Pegasus had barely started the car when a voice came through the speakers. “You’re kidding, right?”

It was the same voice that she’d heard over the intercom.

“Cypher, we talked about this,” Pegasus responded calmly.

“No, you talked, I disagreed.”

“And look where we are.” Pegasus glanced at Sarah, his smile filled with mischief. He reminded her of one of her little cousins when they were up to no good.

“Fine, you have five hours, tops. I’ll monitor you along the way,” Cypher said. “But when Dragon comes back, I’m throwing you under the bus.”

Pegasus laughed. “Noted.”

Sarah was right. They hadn’t been too far from the city. The short drive to the cemetery was filled with empty lots overtaken with weeds and half-finished constructions. Uneventful. Sarah almost wished it hadn’t been.

The sun was still shining. Along the city streets, people were still walking around, smiling, laughing. Her friends were probably in class right now, feigning attention while Professor Wyle drew calculations on the board. Regardless of her, the world went on.

The cemetery was no different. The sun shone brightly. People were here as well, though they were dealing with their own loss.

She hesitated getting out of the car when she saw Pegasus check his gun. She hadn’t noticed he had it.

“Just in case,” he said when he caught her looking. “Do you need the wheelchair?”

She shook her head. It wasn’t so bad that she couldn’t walk. He helped her out of the car and down the first few steps towards the grounds.

They walked past mourners and workers on their way. It always struck her as a contrast how natural everything seemed to the people digging the holes and filling them up. Were they immune to all the sadness around them? Or had they’d gotten used to it?

Dig a hole, fill it up…

Wasn’t it just dirt and flesh and bones with wood in between? Nothing more, nothing less.

Pegasus suddenly stopped walking and she almost ran in to him.

Sarah redirected her attention to what was in front of her. The lines of patched grass were still obvious where a hole had been recently filled in. All around the gray stones, water droplets hung on blades of grass, shimmering in the sun.

Thankfully, Pegasus wasn’t looking at her. He watched their surroundings instead. Maybe he was expecting someone to come for them at any moment. Or maybe he was trying to give her some space.

Sarah struggled with the dissonance she felt at seeing the graves. The sense of real she’d been expecting wasn’t there.

But that’s where her parents would be, names etched in stone as if that was all they had ever been: Margareth and Mark Owens.

Her eyes started filling with tears, and she struggled to control her breathing.

A third headstone caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She wiped at her eyes and read the name again.

Dazed, she turned to Pegasus.

There was pity in his eyes. “Robyn was never going back.”

With some effort, Sarah kneeled in front of the headstone with Robyn’s name on it. She now understood Pegasus’ weird comment about what type of closure she might find from empty graves.

Should she laugh or cry? Another lie Robyn had told, if only by omission.

“It’s policy. After an attack of that nature, we’re declared dead and hidden away for both our sake and the sake of all those around us.”

Sarah wiped at her eyes even though the shock had dried up her tears. “Who the hell are you people?”

“What did Robyn tell you about us?” he asked, nothing but patience in his voice.

Sarah looked up at him, a hand shielding her eyes from the Sun. “That you’re using the crisis center and the whole W.R.O. as a front for the war you’re waging against the New Nation.”

He seemed amused by her reply. “The W.R.O. isn’t the front. We are the W.R.O. Our public face is the front, but it does a lot of good on its own. Essentially, though, it’s a recruiting center. Not only for the people it helps, but for the people who are willing to help.”

“So you sorta grab people off the streets?”

“Most of us have a law enforcement or military background, but not all of us. Some come to us like Robyn. They’d seen one too many bad things happen and they didn’t want to watch anymore.”

How could she never have heard of anything like this?

Everyone said that the government had been fighting a war against the New Nation for years. But this wasn’t even close to what she imagined that war was like. People faking their deaths, hiding underground, recruiting ordinary people to be turned into soldiers.

“The people you saw down at the compound are what would be the front line. We’re the ones who track down suspected members of the New Nation, investigate prospective targets, and fight them head-on when necessary. We try to keep ourselves hidden, but every once in a while they come after us.” He gave the surrounding area a cursory glance. “They find us with such ease sometimes. And when they do, they seem to care little about anything but killing us. That’s what the ghost program’s for.”

Sarah frowned at the last part.

“I know, it’s a lousy name. I think it has an official name somewhere, but nobody uses it. Basically, once there’s a target on us, it’s policy to make us disappear. We’re supposed to relocate to the compound. When convenient, we declare the person dead.” He nodded at the headstone as if to make his point.

“Convenient?” Sarah scoffed. She resisted the urge to trace her sister’s name on the stone. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

He shrugged. “Can’t be that easy, telling the people you love that you’ll never see them again.”

“Did you also have to do that?”

He kneeled next to her and brushed a clump of cut grass from the edge of the stone. “I had anyone to say goodbye to.”

He’d said something odd before as well. Sarah wanted to ask, but didn’t want to intrude any more than she had.

“My graves are over there.” He pointed towards another section of graves past the walkway and a few benches. “I’ve been with the W.R.O. for a long time. Most of my life, in fact.”

“What happened?”

The corner of his lips lifted, almost a smile, but it failed to reach his eyes. “I’m just another war orphan.”

“They recruited you straight to the W.R.O.?”

He nodded. “When I left the orphanage, I spent some time in the military, then I got moved up to our own training facility.”

“Did anybody give you a choice?”

A genuine laugh startled her. “It’s not brainwashing, Sarah. Everyone can do what they want with their lives, but several of us decide to help out in some way. We’re all over the place. Doctors, police, firefighters. Scientists, too, and teachers… But some of us wind up back there, underground.”

“Why are you telling me all this? What happened to not knowing will keep me safe?”

His gaze hardened. “Has it so far?”

Beneath the warm sun, her skin went cold.

“Besides, I haven’t told you anything that the terrorists don’t already know.”

She nodded absentmindedly. A stray thought snuck in, telling her to go home and complain to her mom about Robyn lying to her. Her throat seized, her eyes burning. Mom would hug her while complaining about her daughters being childish. Then Dad would scold Robyn and Robyn would grumble a complaint about being the least favorite child.

Now there was none of that left, only cold stone speckled with freshly cut grass and dirt that had been picked up by the wind.

“We should head back now,” he said. “I’ll be in enough trouble as it is.”

Sarah said a silent goodbye to her parents, ignoring the empty grave next to them.

Pegasus helped her up, holding onto her hand until they reached the walkway again.

“How much trouble will you be in?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

On their way back to the car, Pegasus once again offered her a hand when they came to the stairs. Sarah stopped where she was.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She widened her eyes, covering her mouth with a hand. “What happens if I forgot the letters I was supposed to remember?”

It was the first time she saw him look concerned. She never expected that she was such a talented actress. Unable to keep a straight face, she laughed. “Just kidding.”

He took back his offered hand. “That was mean.”

“Sorry.” She wasn’t sure what got into her.

He took her hand, lips curving upwards. “You know, you’re as bad as your sister.”

When he was distracted, Sarah looked back towards the cemetery. A couple of workers walked by with shovels, talking excitedly about something. Sarah watched them for a moment.

There was no death, no tears.

Just grass and shovels and flowers.

Dig a hole, fill it up.