I ran. I am not sure why they are chasing me. I just know I have to run. I am running through streets of Seattle, twisting and turning through alleyways, jumping over fences, but I can’t lose them. The sun is down. People are chasing me.
I did not think the piece of paper that I found in the chess book that I checked out from the Marysville Library would cause so much trouble. I had escaped by bus since they had followed me to my house. I then went to Seattle. When I had left the bus I saw them and discovered that I had never lost them.
I shake my head. No time to think about what had happened. I have to focus on keeping my life, and that requires being in the present. Not in the past. The piece of paper in my pocket has some kind of great value or purpose. Why else did they follow me this far?
After getting of the bus I had planned to go to my mother’s house and hide there. I was going to wait there for a few days until my pursuers would lose interest, though I hoped they would not even have to do that. That was before I discovered that I had never lost them. If I maintained that plan I would not only risk my own life, but the life of my mother as well. So there is only one option at the moment. Keep running.
I now think that I have limited endurance; I should have fallen over by now. Maybe it’s the adrenaline. I should better keep running until I am in complete safety. I will probably fall over whenever I stop. I will probably not be able to run again for a few hours soonest. No, I will run. Run until it kills me.
__________________________________________________________________________
I get to see another day after all. Nineteen year olds should not have to imagine their death.
I look around the concrete room that I wake in. My memory is a blur for a few moments. Why am I here again? Then I remember. I had been running for my life around Seattle from some men that wanted some paper I had.
The Paper! I suddenly think. I pull it out from my right pocket jeans.
I unfold the paper and start reading it. It simply reads:
-Seattle: 47.631750, -122.309389
-Chicago: 41.98018, -87.27225
-Boston 42.32630, -70.93920
-Denver 39.63985, -104.87191
-Insider
This is the most confusing thing I have ever read. Four cities and coordinates for each one. All of this fuss for something as simple as this? What are those coordinates? Secret military bases? It does not matter much to me. I am simply angry at myself for not reading this earlier. I would not have risked his life for this. I fold the paper back up and shove it back into my pocket. I then turn the situation around. They followed me for this?
I stand up and start to walk. My legs are very sore. I continue anyway. What had made them so sore? Probably the running. I do not care about that anyway.
I think I hear something. A hum maybe. It must be my imagination playing tricks with me. Then, a few minutes after I put away with the thoughts about the humming noise, I hear it again. Louder this time. It is coming from the window. Strange, I did not notice a window there before.
I stand up, my legs hurt like before, but I still walk slowly to the barred window. It was now that I notice that I am in some kind of basement, because when I look out the window I see a field that is as high as the bottom frame of the window. About ten feet away there is a drone, it is stationary. This drone is humming. So that’s what the sound was. I am relieved.
Suddenly the drone starts flying. Staying a few inches above the ground. It continues this until it reaches the window. I resist the urge to pull back from the window. The drone lands again. I decide split second to reach out to the drone. I turn it so that it will fit through the bars.
When I pull it into the room. I look for a switch on the bottom. I am disappointed to discover that there is none, but I find something else taped on the drone instead. Another paper. Before I am able stop myself I find myself removing the paper from the drone’s underside. I unfold it. It is folded with the same square fold as the paper with the coordinates. This one has no such numbers though. It simply reads:
GUARD THE PAPER WITH YOUR LIFE!
That is the most disturbing thing I have ever read. It tells me to guard this paper with my life. That is absurd. Then I remember. The other paper, the coordinates. That must be the paper the new note is talking about. Could the note be for me? Nothing else makes much more sense. I have to make a choice. Guard the list of coordinates, or give them over and save a lot of pain.
I am struggling over what to do when the ceiling opens a few feet in front of me. I am sweating like a polar bear in the desert. Who was coming down?
First comes his legs. He is wearing dark blue jeans. Then the man falls down and lands on his feet. I then recognizes the man. My pursuer. I panic. The paper! I shove both papers into my left back pocket.
“Give it to me,” the man says with an angry tone.
“What in the world are you talking about?” I ask. I am sweating twice as hard now. I am trying to act like I know nothing about the paper, but I hardly sound convincing.
“Stop playing these games. I want it, and I want it now!” The man yells. It was time for me to make my choice. Whether to give it over and avoid a lot of hurt, or to keep it and obey the note that was delivered by the drone. I am torn. What is so important about the list anyway?
I vaguely hear something, “This is the suspense of it all. Lives depend on his keeping the paper in his possession.” the voice says.
I will keep it. “No!” I yell back.
“What do you mean, ‘No!’?” The man says.
“I mean that I am not going to give anything to you. The paper stays with me!” I feel really confident at this moment. I am seemingly prepared for anything to happen. For the man to jump at me and pry it from my back pocket, for the man to pull out a gun and shoot me. I don’t know or really care. I only know one thing for sure. I will keep the paper. I will not let this man take it from me. Whatever the cost, if I have some kind ability to prevent people from dying, then I feel like I have no other choice than to use that ability.
I think I hear the voice again in the background. It is saying, “We finally found his strong point! He is going to succeed now! Pull him out.”
__________________________________________________________________________
The world around me slowly fades away. I am sitting in a gray seat similar to what a dentist might sit in patients in. I am wearing some kind of helmet.
I turn my head around the room I am in. It is fairly large. It has no windows. There is tons of electronic gadgets and gizmos everywhere. Then I focus on two people about ten feet in front of me, two people in white coats writing on clipboards.
One of them lowers his clipboard, “He did much better than last time. I think the new drugs are working!”
The other scientist does likewise, “Yes. I was impressed. It was not just the drugs you know.”
“You think the classes that he is taking are helping? We take away his memory whenever we run these tests on him. He remembers nothing until we give him back his memories.”
“The classes are supposed to shape his character instead of his mind. You know, the idea is that what he learned wouldn’t be affected if he lost his memories. I think it is working.”
“Believe what you must.” the man says with a sigh. There is a moment of silence before he asks her, “Is he awake yet? The drugs should have worn off by now.”
The woman looks over her shoulder towards me. “Yes. He is conscious.” she answers.
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