Hundred Stolen Breaths Read online

  “Let’s assume,” he repeated, creases wrinkling his brow. “If that’s the truth, how come you told the Delta guards that President Stone had issued you with the order to deliver her to the lab?”

  He had a good point.

  To be honest, I was really hoping they wouldn’t get that information. They’d obviously done their research and spoken with the guards. It wasn’t something I had a ready answer for, nor a good twist for my story.

  The lie came easier than I expected it to. “I thought it would hold more weight. They were about to take the most valuable clone away from me and I couldn’t stop them. I was worried about claiming the reward for her capture, afraid they wouldn’t give me the credit.”

  Better they think I was a greedy liar than the truth.

  That I was committing treason.

  Grand Marshall Watson tapped the arm of his glasses against the desk, making the sound echo in the otherwise quiet room. It was distracting, tapping away like he was counting all the possibilities for my punishment.

  He could surely hear my heart as it pounded away in my ribcage and betrayed my truths. All he had to do was see the sweat pooling on my palms and know.

  He would just know I was lying.

  “The reward was quite impressive,” Watson said, looking at his fellow panel members for confirmation. They slightly nodded in agreement but otherwise remained stoic. His gaze dragged back to me. “Get out. We need to discuss this further. Privately.”

  I stood and saluted before turning to leave. I felt the daggers of their eyes on my back the entire way. Stepping into the corridor of the administration building, I slumped against the wall and let out the million breaths I’d been holding in.

  There was no way they were going to let me off. My story didn’t even match my original one. I changed it to suit the questions fired at me in quick succession, too fast for me to really think and answer properly.

  They knew I was lying. There was no doubt about it. The only thing I was uncertain about was what they really thought I was doing with Wren at the lab.

  They certainly would discard any notion that I was in love with her and trying to save her life. They would chuckle about it, like it would never be a possibility.

  But that was the truth.

  The stone cold, hard, beautiful, truth.

  It was impossible for a human to love a clone, everyone knew that. Clones were products to be consumed by those wealthy enough to afford one, or several. They didn’t have souls, didn’t even come close to humans.

  I believed differently.

  So did the Resistance.

  If my superiors could come up with a plausible story for me to be at that lab, they would run with it. They would assume it was the truth and completely discount any protests about my innocence.

  My fate relied on their imagination.

  My future was tenuous at best.

  Standing around was going to drive me insane. I marched to the restrooms and splashed water on my face, trying to remove all traces of my guilt.

  It didn’t work.

  That only left the waiting.

  I sat in the wooden seat with the straight back, designed to be uncomfortable on purpose to keep people on their toes. I changed positions countless times before finally giving up and deciding to remain uncomfortable.

  My head lolled back until it could lean against the wall. I closed my eyes and took a few breaths, silently praying or begging or fooling myself that someone was actually listening. If there was ever a time I needed a miracle, it was now.

  But even if they did choose to believe me and let me walk out of the trial room today, I still wouldn’t be free. With the number of rumors flying around the base, there was no-one who hadn’t heard some kind of story about me. My reputation would always be tarnished, my record would never be clear again.

  Which wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

  In order to play my part for the Resistance, I was supposed to fly under the radar. Nobody was meant to know my name or remember my face. I was to get on with my job and anonymously undertake missions without anyone noticing.

  Joseph was going to be pissed when he found out. If he didn’t already know. The leader of the Resistance seemed to know everything that happened in the city, it would have surprised me more if he didn’t know about my charges.

  He probably even knew about my trial.

  Would he try to save me if I was found guilty?

  I shook away the thought, Joseph would never risk his cover by helping me. I had always known what would happen if I was ever caught. It was for the greater good if they denied all knowledge of me and forgot I ever existed.

  The truth was hard to swallow.

  I really was alone.

  But whatever I was going through, it would be worse for Wren. Her fate was already decided. She didn’t get a chance with a panel of five people, didn’t get a chance to put forward her case, and she certainly didn’t have any chance of mercy.

  I would accept whatever fate they decided on the other side of the wall and I would take it only a fraction as gracefully as Wren.

  The door next to the bench suddenly opened, making me jump up and stand rigid. It was one of the three Witnesses overlooking the trial. Her pinched mouth was frowning. “They are ready for you.”

  So this was it.

  My judgment time.

  My feet were moving before I could stop them, obeying the command to return to the trial room and listen to the verdict. If I was a smarter man I would have run in the opposite direction and never looked back.

  I never said I was smart.

  My actions proved what a fool I was.

  I stepped into the room and resumed my position in front of the panel as the Witness took her seat silently at the side with the others. They were supposed to merge into the furniture, to be seen as a formality only in case there was a dispute with the proceedings.

  Witnesses wouldn’t save me if the verdict went against me. Neither could any of my superiors. It was me alone that would deal with the consequences of what was about to happen.

  There was no point sitting so I remained on my feet with my hands clasped behind my back like I was trained to do when in front of those higher ranked than me. A lifetime would never be able to get my trooper training out of me.

  “We have discussed your case robustly,” Grand Marshall Watson started, his voice somber and deep. “We have reached a decision which will be final. As you know, our decision is not up for discussion and cannot be appealed. We do not take our position lightly.”

  I needed him to hurry up. If I stood there any longer without knowing their decision I was going to collapse. The anticipation was worse than knowing.

  “Yes, sir,” I replied when he stopped.

  Watson nodded and put his glasses back on, making him seem ten years older than he did only seconds before. “Corporal Reece John Thompson, you have been charged with third degree trespassing on government property while on active duty. On these charges as stated, we find you guilty.”

  Guilty.

  The word echoed in my head like an alarm as the trial room spun around me as if I was in the center of a whirligig. I lost all focus on the faces staring at me, the people who had decided my fate and called me a liar.

  Guilty.

  My mouth went dry, but the rest of me broke out in a cold sweat. It was all over. Their decision was final. Nobody could help me now, even if they wanted to. I was done, everything I had worked for was over.

  Guilty.

  I wouldn’t be able to help Wren. I wouldn’t be able to save her, I probably wouldn’t even see her again. We would both die without her knowing how sorry I was that I hadn’t rescued her. It was all I ever wanted to do.

  Guilty.

  Watson was continuing to talk, I realized too late that I hadn’t heard a lot of what he was saying. I tuned back in, desperately trying to quell the panic as it threatened to take me over.

  “…for these reasons we must
refer to the guidelines for your punishment. Corporal Reece John Thompson, you are hereby sentenced to death for your crimes.”

  Death.

  I had a new reason to panic now. They not only decided I was guilty but also decided to impose the harshest penalty available to them. They had shown me no mercy whatsoever.

  Death.

  There was no way I could help Wren if I faced a firing squad. It would be all over, completely done with. Her death would be certain without anybody trying to save her.

  I came to my senses too late. I should have run earlier when I had a chance. Now I had received my verdict I would never have a hope of fleeing.

  All hope was gone.

  Every single last piece of it.

  Watson hit his steel gavel on the table and two security troopers stepped in. They flanked me, each taking an arm but not really applying any pressure. I wasn’t struggling, they had no cause to manhandle me.

  “Let’s go, Thompson,” one muttered. “Don’t make a show and you’ll leave with some dignity.”

  I nodded silently and let them guide me toward the door. I knew without having to see them that a whole platoon of security troopers would be just outside the trial room doors, pulled together by my superiors when they decided on their verdict.

  If I ran I wouldn’t even make it down the corridor. My back would be riddled with bullet holes as I went down and hit the floor. I didn’t want my life to end like that. While I still had a beating heart, I would think of a way out.

  As we marched, it was difficult keeping hope alive. It was hard trying to believe there was a way out of this. Legally, I had no recourse. Watson wasn’t lying when he said their decision was final. There were no appeals allowed within trooper trials.

  That miracle I had been wishing for was not going to come. If there was a way out, it was going to have to be completely illegal and based solely on opportunity.

  And luck.

  I was going to need a lifetime of luck.

  We reached the door to the trial room and exited out the prisoner’s way. This corridor held no decorations, no wood paneling. It was surrounded by filthy concrete that was dank and dark. Fit for a prisoner.

  True to their word, my escorts didn’t bustle me along. They allowed me to walk with them, leaving me with tiny shreds of my dignity during my downfall.

  I was a disgraced trooper now.

  A prisoner.

  Condemned to death.

  There were only four cells in the base prison. This was designed on purpose, ensuring prisoners didn’t linger for long. My execution could be mere hours away. If they had a sudden influx and needed the cell, it could be even swifter.

  “In here, mate,” the trooper said, holding open the door to my new temporary home. “We’ll be back at feed time with some grub.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, giving them a grim smile that I hoped conveyed my thanks for not dragging me away kicking and screaming.

  I would be the talk of the mess hall tonight.

  Everyone would curse my name, saying they knew I was a bad seed all along, that there had been clues, that they never liked me in the first place. It shouldn’t have bothered me, not when I had much bigger issues at hand. But it did. I may have been guilty but I had my reasons.

  The moment I was alone I sat on the bench attached to the wall and let out the breath I was holding. I relished in every movement of my lungs, knowing there was a countdown clock on the number of breaths I would get.

  I couldn’t feel sorry for myself. They were my decisions to go to the lab and help Wren, to betray my president and act for the Resistance. There was nobody to blame for my predicament except myself. I took full responsibility.

  My only regret was failing.

  At least I wouldn’t live with that guilt for long.

  Maybe I would see Wren in the afterlife and apologize to her then? I guessed anything was possible.

  Waiting was definitely the worst part. There was nothing to wait for now except the firing squad. They would come for me and then it would be all over.

  Until then, I could do nothing but wait.

  And wait.

  And wait.

  After only two and a half hours, my time was broken by the sound of a door crashing open. I remained seated, wondering who else they were imprisoning today and what their crime was. At least I would have someone to talk to. That should help the time pass faster.

  “You’re up, Thompson,” Sergeant Washington said. Of course, it would be him that would take me to my death. He probably volunteered, threatening anyone else who dared go for the job.

  So I guessed I wasn’t getting a cell mate after all. “Where am I going?”

  “To the killing field.” He grinned, showing me all his rotten teeth.

  Nobody could say the troopers weren’t efficient.

  I stood and he opened the door. He grabbed my arm roughly and pushed me to walk. He kept a gun trained on me the whole time, treating me like the worst kind of prisoner imaginable.

  The killing field was behind the administration building. It was really a courtyard with no name, but it was reserved only for the firing squad, which was how it earned its nickname.

  I’d never seen it before.

  My missions never gave me reason to visit those parts of the base. We’d all heard the gunshots, of course. We all knew where they came from and were familiar with the sound ringing out, followed by a mass exodus of birds from the overhanging trees. We would all say a silent prayer for the dead.

  And be glad it wasn’t us.

  It was dark outside. The sun was still a small egg on the horizon but it was largely done for the day. It was off to visit a faraway land and return tomorrow when it reported for duty on our shores.

  I wouldn’t see it.

  My legs shook, threatening to make me topple down to the ground in an undignified mess. I tried to keep my face in a mask and not let them see my fear.

  Because I wasn’t scared.

  I was angry.

  This wasn’t supposed to be how it ended for me. I was supposed to be more useful to the Resistance, I was supposed to make a change in Aria and see it through until the end. I was supposed to see justice for my brother.

  I was supposed to outlive President Stone.

  Anger seared through my blood, making my temples throb with frustration. I didn’t want to walk any further to the center of the field but my traitorous legs kept moving.

  Finally, I reached the middle.

  “Wait here and don’t move,” Sergeant Washington sneered. So no final goodbye then.

  I stood like I was trained, ready to accept my punishment and quelling the scream rising up in my throat. In my final moments I had an overwhelming desire to tell them everything. Yell at them about how the Resistance were going to take them down. That they were following Stone blindly and she would lead them all to the depths of hell. That they were all asleep and needed to wake up and see what was really happening.

  Three shooters marched out in a line, guns slung over their shoulders. They each wore a white helmet, in full trooper uniform. I would never know who they were, whether I knew them, whether I was friends with them.

  They formed a line and prepared their guns.

  I never got a chance to yell or scream.

  Chapter 3: Wren

  There was no point in drugging a clone when they were bound and completely under control. Unfortunately, this meant I could hear and feel everything the guards did as they transported me.

  I felt every bump in the road as I lay on the floor of the vehicle.

  I heard every inane conversation the guards shared.

  I smelt the stench of their body odor.

  The uncomfortable trip seemed to take forever. My limbs protested about being in the one position for so long. They yearned to be stretched and allowed movement. My eyes wanted to see something other than the darkness of the hood.

  They should have killed me before taking the trouble to move me. I
t would have been kinder, not that they cared. The nauseous feeling perpetually lived in my stomach, knocking at my throat with bile.

  The vehicle came to a final stop as the driver cut the engine. Everything seemed much quieter without the constant whirring of the motor. If they took me out of the transport just to shoot me dead, I was going to be very angry.

  Doors slammed.

  Arms grabbed me.

  I was carried once more. No sounds penetrated my hearing except for the heavy footsteps of the guards. They didn’t speak so I couldn’t tell how many were in my presence. Soft echoes and no other sounds made me think we were indoors.

  They set me upright, not bothering to help me when my limp foot gave out, and I stumbled forward. I fell against a cold wall, using it to keep myself upright.

  Metal ground against metal before ending with a thud.

  Then silence.

  I counted my heartbeats while I waited, not even daring to breathe. I made it to sixty-three before I was certain I was alone. Reaching up with my bound hands, I tugged at the black hood until it came off my head.

  Fluorescent strip lighting assaulted my eyes after the darkness. I closed them again, opening them slowly so they could adjust to the harsh lights in their own time.

  I was in a cell.

  It wasn’t like the one at Laboratory Delta, this one only had three walls. The fourth were just bars, thick and solid. A bed was pushed up against one end of the small cell, a toilet in the other corner. A sink was built into the wall.

  My tied feet could shuffle – barely. I moved at a snail’s pace to the sink and ran the faucet, gulping in the water like it was liquid gold. It left a metallic taste in my mouth but I didn’t stop until I sloshed when I walked again.

  I sat on the bed, relishing in the fact it actually had a mattress. It was only thin and smelled musty but it was luxurious compared to the stark bench in my last cell.

  A proper bed.

  I had only ever had one of them before.

  When I lived in the village with Rocky we slept on the dirt floor of our hut. Bugs would crawl over our skin in the middle of the night. Sometimes they bit and caused angry red infections on our skin. They would itch terribly for days on end.