“You don’t even know what she’s up to,” Oleks argued, leaning against a tree, his leg kicking back against it.
Griffin recognized the move. Oleks was weak, but he was trying to mask it. “You overdid it again, you need to take a break. I’m going to investigate what’s going on. Stay here and keep watch, I will call you if I need back up.”
Except Griffin didn’t have any plans to call Oleks. The man needed to rest, to allow his body to recover.
He stepped forward, offering Oleks a shoulder squeeze and examining his body for noticeable injuries. He worried about him. Oleks had quickly become his closest ally, his best friend, his most trusted confidant. His family. “There’s a truck on the other side, take it if you need to get out of here. I have a feeling…I…” How exactly could he say that Anadil scared the fucking shit out of him? Even though she was also someone who might just be able to propel Violencia forward.
Too intelligent. Too broken. Too angry.
Griffin spun away, keeping his head down as he hurried toward the Facility’s secret entrance that would lead him inside its walls.
Walking brusquely, he passed several other members of the Factions as he continued his trek through the walls, the tattoo on him was enough to buy his passage, but many of the inhabitants would recognize him too. While he hadn’t shown his face at the Facility too often he had gone to many of the Faction meetings. Listened to their plights.
He made it to the same room as before and found Anadil in it. She was staring down at the desk again, another paper in her hand.
She didn’t look up when Griffin approached, simply setting the paper down.
“Today is the day.” Her eyes flashed upwards, blank and empty.
Voids. Soulless.
The sight caused Griffin to step back, terror and anxiety piercing him. “What are your plans?”
Anadil’s lips quirked as she pulled something from her back pocket and threw it at Griffin.
A mask.
“Put it on. The pregnant woman will need to be rescued soon. Wait here until it’s time. But I suggest not dallying too long.”
Anadil didn’t pause for a response, storming from the room.
Griffin thought to follow her, but his attention zeroed in on the desk instead. On the paper.
To the bird sketched on the front.
Pulled by some invisible force, he walked to it, his hand grabbing the sheet and flipping it over.
Our daughter’s name will be Sparrow.
That was the only line there, the handwriting barely legible. He wasn’t sure what kept the piece of paper in his hand, what drew him to it, but now his mind begged him to read the rest, and he restrained himself.
A mother.
Even here they were beginning to become more and more scarce. Violencia hadn’t noticed yet, but the men from his countries had. They kept eyes on the pregnant, typically funneling them to unspeakable places. Or simply taking them as their own to use and attempt to make their own procreations with.
The device in his pocket buzzed, causing Griffin to startle. He withdrew it, and his heart chilled as it came to life. As it lit up and a video was forced onto it. As he watched the scene play out.
Anadil was on a stage.
“As many of you know”—Anadil’s voice echoed through the speaker of the device in his hand—this Facility is a cesspool ofevil. We are stripped of our identities. Beaten as children, raped as teenagers, and forced into slavery as adults. We have existed like this for too long.”
There were booms of applause that came through the device as Griffin’s heart beat into his throat.
What is this?
“We have come here today, together, to show the country that they are not alone. That they can join us. That we will stop at nothing to overthrow this tyranny.” Anadil yanked a hooded person from behind, pulling them into full view of the camera and pushed them forward until her foot was placed on their back.
Griffin winced as the hooded person was lifted up by the back of their shirt and Anadil ripped off the hood.
