《Into the Night》

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I return to my cot - empty, cold, not unlike the one I'd slept on in the Facility. I breathe out and as I do, a ball of tension unfurls in my gut. Instantly, I'm made all too aware of the strain holding that salute for so long had caused me. It feels like a fire has been stoked underneath my skin which has every intention of roasting me from the inside out.

My muscles howl in protest. Each leg feels like a stone pillar has been affixed to my waist and I can't stand with my shoulders straight without having to choke down a scream.

I'd thought for certain Della would have laughed at my pathetic attempt to be like one of her soldiers, but she hadn't. She'd just stood there, eyes boring into mine as cracks in that unnerving gunmetal gray gaze of hers showed slivers of compassion or empathy or whatever it was Della could feel.

Before dismissing me after what had felt like an eternity, she'd clapped me on the shoulder and said without smiling, "Your orders are to get some sleep. Tomorrow's a busy day."

I plop down on the bed, the thin mattress providing no barrier from the rusted springs, and rub my shoulder. A loosely wired bulb overhead splashes light onto my knuckles and along my right side, accentuating shadows and making it look as though I'd grown nebulous, black claws.

I stare at my hand. A month in and it had finally healed enough so I could flex the fingers and make a fist without feeling like my tendons would rip apart. To Della, this meant I was finally an assistant worthy of the space I occupied, bottling Elysium without spilling a single money-making drop. 

My gaze flits toward the floor, where underneath baggy jeans lie old bruises and tender flesh. My ankle had yet to be completely healed. Sure, I'd been upgraded from hobbling decrepit to baby-learning-to-walk, but I couldn't do much in terms of running, especially if the need to escape arose. That made me a liability on this next run if things went ass up, which they had a habit of doing.

Flopping back onto the bed, staring at a ceiling, the reality of what I'd done, and what I'd committed myself to comes crashing down. Was this sensation of overwhelming pressure, squeezing on my insides like a compactor, what it felt like to have the whole world collapse on you?

Agreeing to go back into the Brights...To put my life on the line and face the Birds, the El Accosta...

Despite the draft slipping through the cracks of the cinder block walls, sweat forms on my brow. I suck in a breath. I'd brokered a deal with the devil herself and was about to walk through hell, again, and despite the openness of the room, I can't help feeling as though if I were to reach out into the dark, my hand would be met with resistance, the darkness tangible, forming walls around me that continue to close.

I feel much the same as I did on those days I spent locked away in the Reflection room - the ever-present darkness and my worsening thoughts the only things to keep me company. Surprisingly, at this sense of familiarity, a sense of calm washes over me. I'd been here before, and I'd overcome it then. I'd run Elysium through the Brights and I'd come out worse for wear, but ultimately fine.

Why should tomorrow be any different? 

 At the very least, Lilly and Tujo would be safe and I'd ensure the others were kept safe too. A leader was someone who came back a little less dead than her troops, Della had told me. But that was a half-truth. A leader was also someone who was willing to not come back at all, if it meant saving a fellow soldier.

A lump forms in my throat and I swallow. The light sways back and forth on its exposed wire, roused to action by the footsteps rattling the ceiling tiles overhead. Maybe it was Keran, too pissed off to sleep, or Ellie, prepping for tomorrow's breakfast, opening cans of expired beans and peeling rotten potatoes. 

I shift in the bed again, which causes a spring to rear up and nip the flesh of my lower back. The holo-player recessed into the bedside table hurls a blue beam into the air. The light adjusts, growing sharper, before bursting into several smaller lines that twist and bend to form the time.

12:02:00.

Closing my eyes, I heave a sigh and tug the covers up to my shoulders. A soldier couldn't be useful without their sleep. Just this once, I hope my nightmares aren't plagued by the dead boy's eyes.

¤

Today's breakfast potatoes and gravy are the things of nightmares, much like Lilly's snoring. At Ellie's hand, the potatoes had been burnt, crispy cubes more akin to charcoal bricks than food, the gravy lumpy, gray snot. The whole meal has the appeal of an oozing pustule and as I jab my fork at the gravy, watching as it jiggles in response, I'm thankful for my lack of appetite.

There's coffee though, freshly brewed and available to those on active duty. Guess my deal with Della had an  unforeseen perk. Tendrils of steam rise off the bronzy liquid, the aroma of bitter bean as enticing as ever, but I can't bring myself to drink. Frowning, I set my fork down and place my head in my palm.

My mood doesn't have any adverse effects on the others' appetites. They eat with the voracity of starving animals, grinding potatoes into mush and slurping down the congealed gravy. Tujo shovels a heap of potato into his mouth, chomping down gleefully as brown bits stick to the corners of his lips.

"It's going to be so awesome having you back," he says, running a sleeve over his mouth to mop up some gravy that's clung to his chin like toothpaste. He's dressed like a civilian - long black tee, steel-gray jacket and black jeans, shoved comfortably into a pair of black slickers. "You missed so much! The Brights is awesome! They have so many V-cafes, and everyone's always walking around on the Net. I got to play an online racing game." He puffs out his chest. "After we'd delivered Elysium of course." He leans over the table, grin spreading. "I won."

In no time, I find myself returning that grin. It'd be awhile since anyone aside from Nol had been able to coax a smile to my face. Who knew Tujo's blind optimism could be contagious?

Unable to stop myself, I jab him in the forehead with my fork. Caught off guard, Tujo falls back in his seat and rubs at the spot, feigning annoyance.

"Wish I could have been there," I say.

Tujo stops rubbing his forehead and blinks. His smile slowly returns. "I'd have bet on you, against all odds." He slaps the table, his cheeks puffing out like a squirrel who's stuffed to capacity. Scooping up a forkful of gravy, the mass trickling down the prongs in true slo-mo fashion, he says, "And you would have won to. A ton of creds. Why, we got--"

Lilly elbows him in the ribs. Whatever triumph had blown Tujo up, evaporated and he deflates, one hand rubbing his stomach, as he shoots his sister an icy stare.

Lilly shakes her head and turns toward me. She points at my tray. "Not hungry?"

I tap my fork on the tray's edge. "Hungry for food? Yes. Hungry for whatever this is?" I run my fork through the gravy goo. "I'll pass."

"But--" Lilly fidgets with one of the flower-shaped buttons on her blouse. Whereas Tujo's dressed to blend into the lower sects, mute colors that will easily be forgotten among all the neon signs and adverts, Lilly's dressed like a mid-sector girl. Lemon and cream stripped blouse, navy skirt that skims her ankles, soft-soled shoes with bows on the toes. Her eyes roam over my coffee and she purses her lips. "You haven't even taken a sip of your coffee. And--" Her gaze meets mine which only deepens her frown. "You didn't sleep well last night, did you?"

Tujo playfully slaps her on the back. "What are you - Ten's mother?" Lilly's eyebrows knit together. "She's fine."

Lilly slumps forward and stares at her own tray, the fork perched between the slots holding what remained of her potatoes and beans.

"Right?" Tujo looks at me, imploringly. "You're fine?"

I nod. "Of course. If I weren't, I wouldn't be going out today." I tap the table with my finger and Lilly looks up. I flex my hand, the one I'd injured during our escape from the Facility. "See?" I wriggle all five fingers. "All good." Then, I reach down, and slap my thigh. "My ankle's much better. If I need to run, I'll be able to--"

"That's not what I meant," Lilly says, her voice barely audible. Her gaze hardens. "And you know it." She glances back at her tray.

I reach out and ruffle her hair. If she minds, she doesn't voice her disapproval. Silky strands slip through my fingers as I rake them through. "I'm as okay as I'm going to get."

She snaps up and my hand falls away from her. "But you--" She twists the button back and forth, back and forth.

"Mase." Tujo plants a hand on her shoulder. "Ten's fine." His eyes shimmer with compassion. His smile radiates warmth. "She's a cockroach and there hasn't been an apocalypse yet. She can weather whatever."

Lilly's eyes brim with tears. "You're sure?"

Tujo nods as he slips an arm around her, bringing her into him. He rests his chin on her head. "Am I ever wrong?"

Lilly smiles and I chuckle.

"Almost all the time," I say. This coaxes one of Lilly's bell-like laughs from her lips.

Right as Tujo's about to rebuke my last comment, Sin surfaces, plodding  in from downstairs, where he'd undoubtedly been worked as the pack mule the Titav see him as. He's sporting a pair of dirty overalls, cuffs rolled up mid calf, sleeves torn off either for mobility or because Sin felt like it. His biceps glisten under a sheen of sweat, grease streaking his chin and tinting his fingertips.

"Jae-beom!" Tujo jumps to his feet and begins flailing like a beached squid. "Over here!"

I turn toward Lilly. "Jae-beom? Now he's managed to remember Sin's identity?"

Lilly nods, her eyes brimming with a familial pride.

"Huh." I rest my chin on my fist. "One-upped by Tuj."

Lilly turns to face me. "You say something?"

I shake my head. "Nothing important. Just that Tujo's really coming into his own."

Lilly's smile breaks open, spilling out warmth and joy all over the place. "He really likes the Brights." She leans in. "All the lights and games. It's like an amusement park from the past." Her eyes dazzle. "When we walk under the tube ways, we imagine they're roller coasters."

I nod. She was right. The Brights crammed enough lights and adverts to make your head explode from stimulus overload, much the same as an amusement park. Only, those parks came without mercenary outfits, drug runners, rival gangs and a whole slew of other dangers waiting to gobble you up.

"Sit here," Tujo says patting the free seat on his right. Sin smiles and puts his tray down on the table.

When his gaze lands on me, his smile broadens. "Didn't expect to see you eating here."

"Ellie always brought breakfast to the lab after you guys left for the Sect. With that kind of room service there wasn't really a need to eat with the masses."

"Sequestering yourself away, huh?" Sin picks up his fork and taps it on the edge of the tray. "Not the best way to deal with your problems."

I shrug. "I'm not trying to deal with my problems." I get up from the table, tray in hand. Tujo and Lilly follow my movement with a shared curiosity. Sin shovels another heap of beans into his mouth. "Avoidance," I say as I turn to head back into the kitchen. "Is an invaluable skill. One I happen to have mastered." Grinning, I wave them a hand and make for the double doors. 

"Where you going?" Tujo yells. 

"I've got a few things to get ready before we leave." 

I hear Tujo chuckle. "Yeah right," he says loudly, purposefully, so I'll hear him over the din. "She's going to see her booyfriend." The sentence is punctuated with a few very wet lip smacks. My grip tightens around the tray as the idea to use it as an impromptu frisbee and chuck it into Tujo's face becomes more appealing. Just as I'm about to whirl around and hurl an insult instead of my food tray, a pained oomph escapes from Tujo. "Hey! Why'd you do that?" 

I turn. Lilly's got her hand balled into a fist and is giving Tujo a Marava-level scowl as he rubs at his chest, looking about as affronted as ever.

I chuckle and flash Lilly a thumb's up. She always had my back and I hoped, when she found out she no longer had to mule Elysium, she would understand I had hers. Tujo's too.

Cockroaches, the lot of us, until the very end.