Persona Non Grata — Part 2

The convoy of government vehicles weaved through the streets of Augusta like knives through butter. The distinct sirens made everyone freeze and view where the sounds were coming from.

"Finch, has the sedative worn off yet?"

"Triller, you gave him a strong dosage—"

"What was I supposed to do?" Triller grumbled. "I didn't know he was going to attempt murder."

"Well, it doesn't matter; you grabbed the wrong one., dumbass"

"Yeah, so what?" Triller retorted. "It was a heat of the moment decision. I grabbed the wrong syringe, okay?"

Finch continued his disappointed rant. "The wrong syringe is the difference between sedating and killing a person. Plus, if Kingfisher were to find out we killed another Imitation, we'd be chopped liver—"

"Ready up," a voice from the front of the van shouted. "We're entering the warehouse now."

* * *

Albert was slowly regaining his vision. He found himself lying on the cold, charcoal-black floor of the car. He tried to move his hands and legs, but heard the sounds of metal keeping him shackled.

"Triller," Finch hollered, "he's alive. Looks like you live to see another day," he chuckled.

"W-Where am I?"

"Welcome to LX-60."

Albert's eyes were wide-open and his hands scrunched on the floor of the car. "LX-60?! L-Like, the gang?"

Finch rolled his eyes and facepalmed. "Why do I have to keep explaining this to Imitations. We're not a gang; we're an underground organization whose motives, ideals, and actions stand directly in conflict to Lux Aeterna's government." Finch pointed right at Albert. "And you, are imperative to our cause."

Finch bent down, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a rusty key. He removed Albert's chains and slowly helped him up. "Come on, everybody is waiting for you."

Albert was led out of the van. He was blinded by the abrupt lighting changes, but his vision slowly reoriented. He was no longer in an empty shelter, but in an expanse warehouse. A handful of the windows were broken; rust was prevalent everywhere from the floor to the support beams, roof, and walls; plastic, pearl-white tables and people clad in camouflage lined the floor; and a large, slightly tattered banner with a red spider lily hung from the roof. Under the flower was five characters: LX-60.

"With your help," Finch whispered to Albert, "we can show our citizens, and to the whole world, what the government is truly doing: dehumanizing and denigrating regular people for their special interests and beliefs. The Second War has begun because of the old men clinging to power, and we are going to display that injustice through any means necessary.

"Although you were ostracized back there, you are always welcome here at LX-60." Finch patted Albert's back and walked into the crowd of people. "Feel free to walk around," he shouted.