ROGUE

When I'm able to stand on my own, Claire disconnects the IV and tells me I'm going for a long, warm shower. I'm not entirely sure I believe her, but when we enter a room one hallway and three doors down, there's a shower stall nestled in the corner. Near that is a cabinet, a sink, a toilet.

      "Everything you need is in the cabinet," Claire tells me. "I'll be outside the door. Knock if you need me."

      She leaves. I go to the cabinet. Deodorant, travel-sized toothpaste, a toothbrush, a thin black comb. Beneath it all is a white towel. It's worn and old, but a towel nonetheless.

      I peel the jumpsuit off, turn the shower on, lay my hand under the water, getting a feel for it as a surfer does before a wave. It's warm. I step under the showerhead with a smile. It stings the slit across my broken nose and washes away the blood and sweat from the past seventy-two hours. The flower-scented soap and fruity shampoo blend together nicely on my war-torn skin.

      I think about Sofia and about Ben. I remember him from school. I wonder if she does too. He was a quarterback with a nice smile, someone that made the girls go wild. Sometimes, when I thought of before, I thought of him. Where he was, what he was doing, if he was alive. His little sister and what had become of her. The same went for my best friend. Now I knew. Both were recruited by Vosche and turned into soldiers, their siblings dead.

      I step out of the shower, dry myself off with the towel, and pull a new uniform on. Claire is waiting for me when I open the door.

      "You smell better," she comments, smiling. "It's a good thing, too. Get ready, Rogue. You're about to meet someone oh-so-important."

__

A girl my age with midnight black hair and fluorescent skin sits in a hospital bed not unlike my own, staring me down with sharp, dark eyes. She's so thin I wonder how she's still alive and if she's ever been fed in her entire life. And then I realize why the girl is so small and feel a hole open up in my stomach.

      "You must be Ringer," I say, feeling stupid a second later. "I'm Rogue."

      Ringer stares at me blankly, breathing heavily for no reason other than keeping herself upright. Standing there, saying nothing in front of this hawk-eyed girl, makes the hole in my stomach widen.

      I clear my throat. "It's not going to work if you don't let it."

      "What won't?" The first words she's spoken, almost a whisper but still as strong as an ox.

      Gaining courage, I walk across the room slowly, taking her in, "The 12th System."

      "Oh, of course," Ringer replies. She watches me for a moment, wondering what I'm doing. She doesn't seem worried. She doesn't even seem human. In a way, I guess she's not. Neither of us are.

      Standing next to her now, hands wrapped around the metal side rail separating us. The cool silver eases my nerves for a moment, but then I look at Ringer, really look at her, and I realize why Vosche sent me in here in the first place. He needs me to convince her. He needs both of us for this to work.

      "They didn't tell you?" I keep my voice level, even try to sound a little friendly, and keep going. "No surprise there. They didn't exactly tell me, either."

      Ringer's head rolls to the side. She takes a moment to collect herself after the small movement, gasping, and looks surprised. "They did this to you, too."

      It's not a question, but I say, "Yeah. Only difference is, I let it happen."

      "Why?"

      "Because I had to."

      She takes this answer, ponders for a moment, and then looks back towards the door. Blank, tired, grappling to get through this change. "Go away."

"I don't want to be here either, you know. But we don't get choices now. We get options. You have options. You need to let me know whether or not I'm wasting my time."

"You're wasting your time." She wheezes. "They didn't tell me."

"You know," I say. "You know why he's keeping you alive. You just won't let yourself believe it."

      I turn on my heel to leave, but I stop before the door upon hearing her whisper: "Wonderland."

__

Razor is waiting for me next to my room. I wonder if Vosche sent him, then I realize I don't care. It's nice to see that he's not dead. Even more so, it's nice to see him outside of when he's bringing me food. It's almost like before.

The girl recruit — Pumpkin, I heard someone call her — stops beside the door and quirks a brow at Razor. The boy stands tall and strong, nodding in my direction. "Vosche sent me to get her."

Pumpkin eyes him suspiciously. "Why?"

He scoffs. "You think I know?"

Pumpkin takes this as an answer, shrugging carelessly and leaving the two of us alone. We both watch her trudge down the hallway, taking big steps, pudgy legs moving quickly despite her having no reason to leave.

"Razor," I start to say when she's gone.

"Follow me," he says instead. He turns on his heel and heads in the opposite direction, though I'm not entirely sure where exactly he's going.

"Seriously? You're not talking to me now?"

"I don't talk to Dorothy's."

"Not even me?"

"Especially not you."

Okay, ouch. "Where are we going?"

"Don't know."

Pursing my lips, I look away from him and down the hall. There's Claire and Dr. Mark standing in front of an eerily familiar room. The sight of them together makes my heart lurch and my stomach twist uneasily, but I force a sarcastic smile when we reach them. "Hello, doctors. Lovely to see you again."

      Clare scowls. Before she can say anything, Dr. Mark pushes open the door and nudges her inside. She shuts up without another word. I step inside after her, but hesitate when Mark tells Razor to wait outside.

      Razor's jaw clenches, though I'm not sure if it's because he doesn't want me to be alone with them or them alone with me. Regardless, leaving him outside makes my heart twist with anxiety. "Sir, are you sure—"

      "Outside, private," Dr. Mark says again, firmer this time. Razor doesn't hesitate again, instead twisting around to watch the hallway.

      I force my attention away and continue inside. Claire is standing next to the table, preparing Wonderland for what must be the hundredth time in my presence. Still, she takes each step as slowly and carefully as usual and makes me wait on her. By the time Mark joins us, she's ready and waiting for me instead. I say nothing and lay on the table.

The involuntary flinch my body does as a result to them strapping me makes Mark lean down with a soothing touch, and Claire with a small smirk. I force my gaze to the ceiling and focus away from them. You asked for this, I tell myself. You needed to know what was keeping her alive, and you're about to find out.

"Are you ready?" Mark asks. Claire stands off to the side of him, waiting. Waiting for me to prepare myself for a third human to be poured into my subconscious.

"No," I say quietly. "But do it anyway."

AUTHORS NOTE:

Sigh... I've been gone forever, and I know that. Plus this is probably going to be the shortest chapter in this entire book, but I can't bring myself to write anymore for it.

I hope to write more for this, but with uni and my new job, time is rare for me. I do plan on finishing this book, though. I swear. At some point, I will finally, finally, finish this.

Plus Courtney is a badass and I'm hoping things will make sense soon, especially for those that didn't read the books and have absolutely no idea what's going on... sorry about that! I'm trying haha.

Love you guys, and miss you. I can't wait to write again for Sofia.