When I opened my eyes again, it was to see Dan smiling wryly at me. I poked my tongue out at him alittle, and hegnashedhis teeth as if to bite it. I snorted outa laugh, which Dan seemed pleased by.
Weweren'teven supposed to be in that warehouse.We should have gone straight back to Obsidian Inc. But we'd just completedamission that involved far toomany people who thought us capable of mercy.
I never likebeing reminded that we aren't. That we haven't been for a very long time.
Dan and I knew there would be consequences for breaking the pattern, for not following orders. But I couldn't stand the thought of being around anyone other than my brother that night. Dan could tell; he could read me in a way he shouldn'thave beenable to. I shouldn't be readable to anyone. People are only ever meant to see what I need them to see.
But I'm weak, so my brother knows me. He knows how I feel about being remindedof what we are.
Dan insisted that we stay in the warehouse because he could not bearsed to deal with giving his report to another, as he put it, “Sadistic, monotone-wielding shithead.”He insisted our handler could, “Take a flying fuck at a rolling donut,” for all he cared.
Dan made out like it washisproblem, just like he always does. He did that for me, so I wouldn't have to say out loud how I felt, so I wouldn't have to admit weakness, even to him.
When we reported back in the next morning, he made such a scene out of it that no one even questioned whose fault it was. There were the chains then. Chainsand knives and oppressively intimate touches. There were electric shocks, and ice-cold water, anda very, verydark box.
We both took the punishment for it because Obsidian Inc., the organisation that owns us, does not accept even passive disobedience.
But Dan got it worse.When they were finally done with him, hisabsolutesilence was more deafening than any amount of screaming.
That should have registered as a warning shot. I should have seen this coming. I should have realised this moment was inevitable the moment we tried to run.
We both took the risk when we tried to escape this life. To escape OI’s control.
Failure was likely, but we still tried.
For some reason, I didn’t think the consequences would be this cruel. I should have known better. If this life gave me one thing, it was the experience toknow better.
Ipressmy face even harder into the wall. It hurts. But other things hurt far more. Openingmy eyes would hurt more.I should be used to this, this feeling of dread, but I'm not.I can't choose not to feel this. No matter howthoroughly I've been trained, some things are just too innately human to everbe cut away completely.
Free will is a game of chance. Human instinct is king. It wins the day, every day.
Ithink that ifI can just stay like this,ifI can just press myself hard enough into the wall, then maybe everything elsewill be okay.I will be okay. I'm not sure what okay is supposed to feel like anymore, but I can pretend. Dan can’t. ButI can.I canpretend.
Realistically, I know that ability should have been bled out ofme years ago. They should have burnt it all out, hollowed me, before they even thought aboutstuffing someone else inside. Somethingelse.
“Don’t be a fucking coward, Jack. Hiding is for real people, with theirpissy,fake fuckingproblems. We know better.”
Iknew from the moment theybroughtus into this room what was going to happen.I knew even before they dropped the sheets of glass. It was the same as it had been all the times before. A concrete room with no windows and only one door, a single dim light hanging too low.
The walls are grey. The floor is grey. Grey, everything is grey in here.I wonder how they get the bloodstains out.I don't often wonder aboutthings like that.I certainly don't ask. Those kinds of questions willdrive you mad, make them notice you more. It's not worth the trouble, not worth the risk. Every time you open your mouth around here, it's a risk.
Dan would ask, though. He would ask how they do it. He'd get a punch to the mouth, or a broken nose, or a bruised set of ribs as a result, but he would still ask. Just for the sake of asking, for the sake of pissing them off, for the sake of Dan being Dan.
"Don't make it easy for me."
No. He doesn't like easy. Can’t bear easy. Too close to civility. Too sharp of a lie.
I need to do what is being asked of me.I need to do what needs to be done. But this is different. This time, it's more. They want to take more from me. I'd almost convinced myself that I had nothing left to lose. How fucking hilarious is that? Hownaive. I have no rightbeing that naive, no right at all.
Iopen my eyes. It's unbearable. As much as I thought it would be. Worse, maybe.Outofadesperate need to distract myself, I catalogue everything in the room.
Four cameras. One door. One light. Two siblings.
Two sheets of glass, one broken, one whole.
One for me. One for Dan.
Dan snatched his up before it eventouched the floor, using it to salute the OI agent who dropped the glass, winking at him with naked malice glittering in his eyes. Iwatched thenasthe OI agent’s fist made contact with Dan’s jaw.He wrapped his fingers around Dan’s neck and smashed Dan’s face into the ground. Thewet, crunching sound offist meeting bonevibrated in my ears.
