BENEATH THE SURFACES

Alex's POV The horizon was painted in hues that seemed like a warning by the ominous, blood-red glare of morning. Though everything was still, the kind of silence one gets before a storm. I couldn't get rid of the sense that something was about to go bad. Lena had nodded off, curled up in a factory corner, her tiredness eventually overwhelming her dread. I watched her for a moment, wondering how much of her narrative was accurate. She seemed fractured in a manner only someone who had seen too much, much too quickly could have. Still, I found myself wondering whether she was hiding something. Nobody paid to flee The Order. Samantha sat next to her, worried clearly on her face. She seems to have suffered over the past few weeks. She had restrictions even though she was stronger than everyone I knew. We each did. And those limitations were being tested more the closer we approached the core of this dream. I let her break off. Not just now. Not when we were almost at last discovering solutions. "How are you doing?" My voice was weaker than I wanted, I asked. Samantha raised her head toward me, her eyes drooping with tiredness but bursting with the kind of tenacious will I had learned to depend on. "I'm doing great." She was not in good shape. None of us were in fact. But I did not press. Not when we had to keep going, we lacked the luxury of allowing ourselves to linger on our suffering. Leaching against the wall and crossing my arms, I muttered, "We need a plan." We cannot continue to run aimlessly. Sooner or later, they will discover us. Samantha nodded, looking over at Lena. "She said," The Order is searching for something. Something strong enough to rule all. Her brow wrinkled as she stopped. "What do you suppose it is?" Since Lena had said the words, I had been asking myself that same question. For months the Order had been following us, unrelenting in their hunt. Their resources, authority, and wealth exceeded anything we could directly challenge. This, however, was unique. These days, they were hunting not only us. They were looking for something more substantial, anything that would balance out in their favor. I asked, "I'm not sure." Whatever it is, though, we have to learn before they do. Samantha glanced at me then, her face inscrutable. And how do you intend to do that? I turned back. I neither had a specific response nor one at all. But I sensed—that we were approaching the truth more precisely than we were aware of. All we needed was a little push. And part of me wondered whether Lena was that push. The unspoken but always apparent tension between us intensified as the hours went. Too fatigued and too worn down, we were neither able to conduct the required discourse. Rather, we concentrated on survival—securing the factory, rotating watchfulness—trying to put together the scant data. Shortly after lunch, Lena woke up and remembered where she was. Her eyes went wide with dread. She paused to consider we were not the enemy. She eased somewhat when she did, but the anxiety never left her. "Did you sleep??" Samantha softly requested and handed her some water. Lena nodded, but as she took the bottle her hands shook. "A little.." I kept a close eye on her, attempting to evaluate whether she truly belonged on our side. "You said The Order is looking for something," I remarked, trying a casual tone. What is it, do you know? Lena hesitated, first at Samantha then at me. Uncertain about whether she should leave or stay, she resembled a deer caught in headlights. She said at last, her voice almost above a whisper. They dubbed it "The Key." Though I'm not sure what it is, they claimed it could open something old. Something that would allow them over-all control. People, time, destiny; " Her comments made me shiver down my back. Although it seemed ridiculous, I had seen enough in the past few months to know that the craziness always included some grain of truth. "Where is it?" Samantha inquired, her voice calm but with an intensity. "I'm not sure," Lena said fast. Years of searching have gone toward finding it. But lately they discovered something, maybe a lead. They have been somewhat hostile recently because of this. They believe they are almost here. Samantha and I looked at one other. This is really beyond what I had anticipated. Not only were we at risk if The Order was on the brink of discovering something that strong. Everybody was doing it. The remainder of the day passed in a haze of arguments and preparation. Samantha wanted to keep on searching for a spot we might hide until we had more information. I wanted to attack, locate The Key before The Order did, stop them before they could release whatever they intended. I remarked, pacing the length of the room, "We cannot just wait for them to catch up with us. "We have to act ahead of time." And straight into a trap, walk? Samantha shot back, her irritation boiling under surface level. "We know not enough. We know nothing at all! Charging in blind is suicide not a scheme. I paused, turned to face her. "Thus what? We simply sit here and wish they never find us? Neither is that a strategy either. She crossed her arms, her angry eyes flashing. "I'm not suggesting we sit about doing nothing. Still, we have to be clever about this. Should we make a mistake, it might be the last one we ever do. She was right; I wanted to object, to challenge. We were outnumbered and outmatched, as much as I detested to say. Entering without a strategy would be carelessness. Samantha moaned and ran a hand over her hair. "Look, I understand it. I too am afraid. Right now, we cannot afford to make mistakes though. I moved in closer, the strain between us slightly relaxing. "I know." But we cannot afford to wait eternity either. Should they come upon The Key... Her eyes locked with mine, and for a little instant all the uncertainty and terror hovered between us like a dense fog. But there was another, silent thing growing between us for weeks. Not with everything else going on, but it was there, boiling just under the surface. Neither of us wanted to admit it. Quietly breaking the silence, Samantha murmured, "We'll figure it out." "Together." I nodded, my chest tight with feelings I lacked the time or energy to investigate. "Together." After Lena fell asleep once more later that evening, Samantha and I sat silently, both too weary to talk but too restless to sleep. Apart from the subtle whistling of the wind through the broken windows and the sporadic groan of the building sinking, the factory was quiet. "Do you ever worry whether we will survive this?" Samantha asked out of unexpected silence, her voice no more than a whisper. Surprised by the sensitivity in her tone, I stared at her. She hardly let her guard down, and when she did, usually she used a snarky quip or joke. But this was actual, real, raw. "All the time," I said. But we have progressed this far. Right now I am not giving up. Though it didn't reach her eyes, she gave a weak smile. Neither am I giving up either. Still, occasionally it feels as though we are circling endlessly. We never really will be free of this, no matter what we do. What to say was unknown to me. She knew exactly what I meant. Every triumph in the seemingly never-ending struggle was accompanied by another battle and another treachery. I couldn't let myself, though, believe we were fighting for nothing. Should I, all would fall apart. We will find a solution, I whispered softly. "We always do." Samantha nodded, but her eyes were far off and her mind obviously elsewhere. I wanted to reach out to reassure her it was OK to be uncertain and afraid. But Lena whirled in her sleep whispering something beneath her breath before I could say anything. I froze too, listening as Lena's words got clearer. Samantha also stopped. She mumbled, "They're coming," her voice choked with terror. They are on their way to us. This time the chill running down my spine was not from the cold.