Z2134

by Sean Platt

Ana wandered through the next few days in a fog. Concentration was impossible, though still easier than forgetting the church massacre and the million truths it unspooled into the haunted hallways of her now liquid reality.

Run, girl, run! The cannon blast erupted in the distance, sending the players onto the field known as the Halo. Ana was thrown to the ground in the chaos, back first, as the girls she’d come with rushed toward the center of the Halo.

Liam finally arrived at the end of the Fire Wall and was about to double back on the other side to search for Ana. Then one of the network orbs hovered down directly next to him. He turned, wondering what the orb’s screen was going to show him. A sense of dread began to fill him, certain he would be shown a recording of Ana’s slaughter.

Adam stared at the monitors in Chimney Rock’s TV hall from the same spot he’d sat in since he and his friends robbed the kitchen. While the Games were holding everyone else’s attention, all he could think about was the looming threat of being caught.

Jonah had no idea how long he was alone before Calla finally came into his room with food and water. Like before, she shoved bites into his mouth, chasing each swallow with a roughly-poured stream of water, more of which got onto Jonah’s coveralls than down his throat. He noticed almost immediately, however, that something was different.