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White ridges line my skin with the Assembly’s symbol, and I run a finger over the waves. I’m seething inside, and I vow to carve my flesh free of it someday. A gaping hole in the skin would be better than looking at their mark.
“I don’t want to,” Lewis’s voice calls, clearer this time. My head jolts in the direction of the sound. I run toward it, but the hallway shortens before my eyes, coming to greet me while I hurry toward him.
“You have to eat,” Sam says. “Remember what we talked about? Healthy choices. We need our strength.”
“To get mama,” Beau says. It’s not a question. He’s reminding Sam of a promise.
Their words become clearer and louder as I draw closer.
“Y-yes,” Sam stutters. “To get mama. Eat.”
The hallway ends abruptly, and I’m thrust through a shut door and into a sparse room, nothing lining its walls and fluorescent lighting buzzing overhead. There are clothes folded neatly on the floor and a few small beds.
“Boys, I promise you, we will get her,” Sam says. He’s close, maybe in the next room. I rush through another doorway toward his voice, and when I see them all, the joy almost lifts me from my feet. I want to fly toward them and bury myself in their arms. They’re here, safe and healthy, arguing at dinner about not eating.
Dressed in red jumpsuits with the AOE symbol on the arm, my family sits at a table for a meal. BeLew push food around on their plates, while Sam holds Morgan, eating with his free hand.
Sam looks at the boys with tired eyes, dark circles underneath, his hair long and messy. He’s handsome as always but watching him caring for our children in this dark place, thinner and exhausted, I’m scared for them all. The boys seem better, but not by much. Their puffy faces tell me they’ve been crying.
There’s no one else, and as empty and barren as it might appear, I’m guessing this is their cabin. Lori’s family wouldn’t live with them in this tiny space, but if they’re okay, she must be too.
I reach for my daughter, but my hand drifts through a cloud of Sam, a projection of my husband. It’s the same for the boys, but I try anyway. Desperate to touch them, I fling my arms through the visions of their little bodies. It’s enraging even when I know this isn’t real, and I sit at the table in the empty chair next to Sam and weep.
My tears are real. They’re hot angry floods of water that drip under my chin, and I wipe them away, cursing at myself.
This table… this place, it looks familiar. I don’t know if I’m manifesting this somehow, wanting so desperately to see my family. It’s the same space I saw when they drugged my food in the prison. Even the chipped plates and the smell of stale air spark my memory like I’ve seen this before or I’ve been here before.
Every scenario runs through my mind. I could be dead, but I’ve thought that before when I saw the past. The healed scar on my arm suggests this is the future, but no one looks older, especially Morgan. I know the where, in some hidden cabin in the underground, but the when remains a mystery.
Lewis shoves a piece of tan food into his mouth. It’s not recognizable, probably something pre-packaged and military. I don’t blame him for not wanting it, but they have to eat. This all can’t be for nothing.
Beau stares at his fork with a sour face. “When?” he asks.
“Soon,” Sam promises. “She’s getting better.”
“Please eat, baby,” I beg Beau. He can’t hear me, but I beg him anyway. “Please don’t worry about me. Eat your food.”
Beau’s face contorts, and he slams his little fist on the table, his fork clamped in his hand. “How long!”
Morgan startles, letting out a whimper, but Sam doesn’t react. He’s patient with the boys, maybe more than he should be sometimes, but I’m grateful today. “I don’t know. I wish I did, but I can’t make any demands right now. We know she’s safe, and she won’t have me risking your lives-”
“You’re a liar!” Lewis screams. Sam clenches his jaw, biting back any response.
“Boys,” he says, taking a long breath before he continues. “Eat your food and we’ll talk after dinner.”
“Liar,” Beau huffs under his breath. Sam says nothing back, and Beau’s face grows redder while he stews in his anger. “You said she was coming with us down the tunnel. You said she would be okay.”
“And she is,” Sam promises. “Mr. Alexander told us.”
My ears perk up at the mention of Alexander’s name.
“You don’t know that,” Lewis adds. “When is mama coming back? When?”
“Don’t lie, you liar,” Beau hisses. “If Mr. Alexander saw her, she would have the note and it would be fixed.”
I straighten in my seat with Beau’s words, my adrenaline pumping knowing they left the note, and it’s not some trick.
Sam lifts his chin and squints at Beau. “Note?” he questions.
