Ezra
Time ceases to exist in the void between what I assume is life and death. Surrounded by nothing but darkness and the occasional burst of light, I hear random, mismatched sounds that are impossible to link together in the strings of consciousness.
The beeping of a hospital monitor.
The roar of an airplane engine.
The pepper of gunfire.
At the same time, I feel more deeply to make up for the loss of vision.
The pressure of being lifting into the air.
The prick of needles across my body.
The coarse rubbing of my arm restraints.
It's not a matter of how many days pass but how many breaths I take, how many memories I lose, and how many cries I hear from the bed beside mine. Floating in between states, I can't even rely on my own mind when it comes to those numbers.
The darkness begins to become evanescent around me. Sounds assault my tender ears, as if I'm being lifted out of the deepest ocean. I can hear the mechanics of something beeping incessantly from all directions, joined by the hum of a radio well out of frequency.
The stiffness of my body becomes apparent as my own weight settles down upon me. I count my fingers and toes, ecstatic to be able to feel my own limbs. Even though it hurts.
"He's coming back," a clear voice says. My heart jumps. It's the first voice I've been able to distinguish.
"Good," a feminine voice replies. "Maybe now he won't drown. Murano would be mad if we killed him before he got to the others."
The first person laughs.
"The girl probably won't be so lucky. We did put her down in a bad spot."
"She woke up sooner! What were we supposed to do?"
"It's fine. One out of two is still pretty good. What's Murano going to do to us in the middle of this chaos?"
I try to open my eyes, only to realize there's a thick cloth over them. Are they talking about Sarah? What do they mean they put her in a "bad spot"? Where are they taking us? Wait-- who are they?
"Two seconds until we're in position," the first, deep voice says.
Hands wrap themselves around me--four of them--and lift me off the soft-ish bed that I had been laying on. Instead, my back meets cold, sleek metal.
"You're gonna have to move out of the way, idiot," the man says. "When I open that hatch, either he's going in alone or you're going in with him."
The woman emits a dry, fake laugh before letting go of me. She strips the blindfold off, and I look hastily around. Wires. Metal ceiling. A sleek vehicle. Everything's a massive blur. They must've took my glasses.
I jerk my head to one side and look down. I'm laying on glass. Under me is a massive expanse of water. Blue, crystal clear water.
That's when I realize where I am.
The Island. I'm being thrown in prison. Thomas left me behind, abandoned me to the hands of President Murano. This is how I'm supposed to die.
The female guard leans down and rests her elbows on her knees.
"Good luck, kid," she whispers. "I hope you make through at least a day."
The man scoffs, and I look over at him.
YOU ARE READING
The Island
Science Fiction"This is The Island, a prison designed for minors like me- too young to be executed, too old to be reformed, and too much of a stain on humanity to let exist. It was 'the answer' to the growing crime rate resulting from a world that was falling apar...
