The Rescue - pt. 1

“Are you sure you want her on your team?”

“Yeah, sure! Why not?”

Six years ago back in middle school, I was always the last one chosen to play dodgeball. Sometimes the ball was thrown a bit too hard, sometimes a bit too close to the head, and sometimes they were a bit too happy about it – so of course, I had to report them for violent intent. The size of that gym class grew smaller after each game, and rather than learn their lessons, the other kids made me the object of their scorn.

“I know you’re new here, Shiloh, so I’ll give you some advice, you don’t wanna be around that girl. Trust me,” said not-so-subtly by a girl whose name I can’t remember.

Shiloh shrugged and said nonchalantly, “Nah, I wanna!”

“Your funeral.”

The game finished as quick as it started. A boy threw a ball straight at my face in-between rounds – to this day, I don’t care what he said, it was not an accident, and that was the last time we ever saw him at school. Anyway, because of him, it was ended early.

That didn’t stop Shiloh from talking to me, though.

“Wow, you sure are something else! No wonder nobody likes you,” she said enthusiastically, walking right by my side as I headed to my locker.

I casted her a blank stare, astounded by her strangely cheerful bluntness. Didn’t even know how to respond to her aside from that, a look that questioned what was wrong with her.

She tilted her head. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“You just said that nobody liked me…”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Not everyone has to be likeable, that’d be boring.”

She didn’t catch the hint by me ignoring her. Instead, she kept following, the corners of her mouth turned up into a relaxed smile. “You probably don’t have any friends either, right?” she asked once we arrived at my locker.

“I don’t need friends,” I muttered, slamming my locker door shut, having noticed her shamelessly snooping through what I considered to be my personal belongings.

“Yeah, you do! Aren’t you lonely?”

“No.”

“Mmm, nope, I don’t believe you. Sorry.”

I remember thinking something along the lines of, “Who is this weirdo and what’s her problem?” Even though I had expressed zero interest in her, she always stayed with me since that day. Waiting for me at the door, passing me notes in class, sitting next to me at lunch…

She was like my shadow. It annoyed me at first, had even considered reporting her for harassment – I might’ve gone along with that idea too, if she weren’t so good at getting me to talk. Maybe it was just since she was such a chatterbox, or because she always said things that were so random and out of pocket that always got a reaction out of me – much to Shiloh’s amusement.

But no, for the most part, it was neither of those things. It was three simple words – Hey, what’s up? Spoken so earnestly, with genuine curiosity. Parents are supposed to care about how your day was, what you did, or what your opinion on something is – but not some kid at school. Why not just avoid me like the rest? Aren’t I annoying, insufferable even? I never cared what others thought of my ways, still don’t, but the weird thing is Shiloh didn’t either.

I didn’t understand it for a while, it even freaked me out. Spent an entire semester trying to avoid her, yet she always found me, no matter what. When I accidentally introduced her as “my friend,” I knew I’d lost. Then, Jasper came into the mix during our freshman year of high school, when Shiloh very loudly said he was “checking me out.” His face turned into a tomato as he retreated.

Now, that girl is somewhere afar, surrounded by flames of terror – if she’s even still alive. But you better bet I’m not leaving this site until I know that for certain.

“What about the people closest to the blasts? Is the IPU sending them help?” I ask the golem that’s dragging us closer to helipad.

“There are no likely survivors, young Miss Hartwell.”

“They won’t know that unless they check!”

“Calla,” Jasper says my name solemnly. “It’d be a miracle if anyone lived through that…”

A thunderous rumble booms from the city’s center. The upper layer of HQ is unable to hold up any longer. It crashes down just like the rest of the building, and the giant green dome is breaking into pieces – the dome that holds the Queen.

Dang it. Maybe we really are screwed, Shiloh.

As soon as the dome is destroyed, the bots on the rooftop abruptly stand still like statues. Their glowing eyes flicker off, and their heads hang loosely. With the Queen damaged, or maybe even destroyed, we’ve lost connection with the Admin System, and everything else. Without an Admin controlling them, these bots – along with every other bot in the country – have just become inoperable.

“I can fly, Mr. President!” says a member of the IPU on the roof, hurrying over to the helicopter.

“The bots are gone, we can’t use the droids… Calla, we can’t use the golems! We don’t have a defense anymore!” Jasper says on the verge of panic.

All the IPU has for fighters are those rookies I spotted while Lux was driving me to the Department of Order. They can probably barely use a weapon at this point, makes me wonder where Ezri and her group got their skills from. We’re as good as dead – heck, we might as well be dead already.

The battleship is even more visible from all the way up here. It’s entirely silver in color, long wings sticking out with sharp edges, and five turrets affixed to the back, with the main one placed in the middle and set on a tower. Lasers keep shooting out, killing who knows how many, until they just – stop. The ship lowers from the sky, preparing to land in the fiery city below.

Did something happen? Why not continue the onslaught?

“Calla! Hurry, we have to go!” Mom shouts from the helicopter, beckoning me forward.

I look back and forth between the helicopter, my route to safety, and the Capital, now a place of doom. Is there a chance, even the tiniest one, that Shiloh is still alive out there? If I left with them now, I’d never know. If she’s crying out for help, or trapped under some rubble, then she’ll die alone. All because the IPU didn’t think her life was worth it enough.

“I have to get something,” I say, backing away to the stairway leading back down into the mansion. “Take Jasper, I’ll ride the next one.”

“Forget about it, it can’t be that important! Get inside, now!” she calls out desperately.

“Listen to your mother,” Dad says. It’s the first thing he’s said to me since our heated discussion. “We have to leave before it’s too late.”

Sorry, but I can’t. Running down the stairs while tuning out their demands, my mind is set on using this “grace period” to try and find Shiloh. Gosh, that evil woman has made me go on a reckless, suicidal streak. When this is all over, I should go to a facility by my own will.

“Hey, wait up!” Jasper’s voice echoes. He rushes to meet me at the bottom, until we’re both running shoulder-to-shoulder. “I already know there’s no stopping you, so I’m coming too.”

“You realize I’m being an idiot though, right?”

“Guess that makes two of us,” he laughs nervously. There’s a tinge of regret in his expression, but it’s overpowered by a sheer look of determination. If this goes wrong, Jasper could get hurt, or even worse.

But just like he knows there’s nothing he can say to prevent me from going, I know that when it comes to sticking beside me, it’s the same. He cares too much for his own good.

“Just don’t die on me. Please.”

Our car is parked by the exit gate. The would-be driver is sitting in the front, now a lifeless body of metal components. Jasper helps me pull it out of the way, and it lands on the dirt with a clank. Thank you for your services. I quickly jump behind the wheel, Jasper sitting next to me and tightly holding onto the armrest to calm his nerves.

So help me, if Shiloh isn’t alive after we’re about to risk our lives to look for her, I’m going to be so pissed.

Just as the helicopter lifts off, we pull out the driveway. Jasper looks surprised, but I don’t fault my parents for leaving. It's either they flee, or follow their crazy daughter. It’s not like the IPU can afford losing their president in a time like this, anyway.

Billows of smoke from the burning buildings signal our destination. As we approach the main roads, the streets are filled with cars headed in the opposite direction – and here we are, driving straight towards danger.