Time ticks very slowly when you are alone. I watch the clock that hangs in the center of one of the bland white walls. 10:45, or fifteen minutes until the supposed “attack.” I drum my fingers absentmindedly on the arms of the chair I’m seated in, synchronizing the last finger to the clicking of each second by the clock.
My cell isn’t nearly as bad as the others I’ve heard described. There are no cobwebs, roaches, or the stale cigarette smell I’ve been told about. In fact, the stories have neglected to tell the only thing that could be said about the room: it is incredibly dull. I try to keep my mind occupied by thinking of Jev’s theory of escape, but each moment becomes increasingly difficult as my mind wanders back to the day of the Incident.
What troubles me the most is that we could have escaped. There I had been, in my room on the second floor of our home, doing something as trivial as reminiscing. If I had looked out the window, I would have seen the first man walk down the street to survey the area.

A few weeks before the attack, my aunt had called our home to ask us if we had seen any suspicious activity in our neighborhood. My aunt had always been the type to go overboard on any inkling of suspicion. She was the kind of person who believed in chiromancy, tarot cards, and psychic readings, so no one could ever take her seriously. This time though, there was something about her tone of voice that convinced me that what she was talking about wasn’t voodoo or black magic.

My mom dismissed what my aunt said, but now, looking back, I wish I had spoken up to say that she had a point, that I was noticing men on the streets, that there were uniformed soldiers coming into our school classes and surveying us in the halls. I knew something wasn’t right, but I hadn’t made the connection, and I hadn’t been brave enough to confront my mother. She was very pointedly stubborn and disagreeing with her always meant that you were wrong. But if I had said something…
A distant boom stops my train of thought. Another rapidly follows until a series of booms sound in succession. Each one seems closer than the previous. I instinctually jump up from my chair and walk towards the direction I hear the booms coming from, the wall where my door is. I press my ear against the wall in hopes to hear some other noise. I hear the faint noise of a ticking. As the thundering comes closer, the ticking in the wall increases rapidly. My eyes widen in realization.
I run to the opposite direction of the room just in time to save myself, covering my ears and crouching down. The bomb detonates, sending pieces of the wall in all directions. I cautiously move my hands from my ears and turn around to see the huge exit that has been created for me. I grin in happiness. Jev was right. The rebels have come.
Smoke from the explosion begins to fill up my cell. I tear off a piece of fabric from the bed in my cell and use it to cover my mouth. I poke my head out of my room to make sure it’s safe. The rooms near me have all been opened and I see several other kids stepping out of their rooms like I am. I need to find Jev.
Gunfire snaps me back to reality. I see the body of a kid down the hall crumple to the ground. Guards appear from around the corner, armed with guns. They are shooting at us! As soon as I see them, I run in the opposite direction, the direction I saw Jev and the guard heading toward. I know he can’t be too far, but the sound of the guns keeps getting closer and closer, leaving me no choice but to continue running.
The smoke is everywhere now, clouding my vision and making it impossible to see more than five feet ahead of me. I trip over charred pieces of furniture and walls. In a few rooms, there are fires. The screaming of the younger children is overwhelming and I hear many cries for help that I force myself to ignore. I come to a point where the ceiling looks to be falling apart and I know that going past it may separate myself from Jev. I must go back.
As I turn around, I bump right into a boy, who looks to be around my age, possibly older. He has golden brown hair and fiery green eyes the size of pearls. I feel those green eyes penetrate me as he and I make eye contact for just a few moments. His lips part slightly and he looks at me as if we know each other, which I’m certain we do not.
“Sorry,” I mumble to him, making my way around his body.
He doesn’t say anything in return, but I feel his eyes follow me as I continue running in the direction towards Jev. I shake off the unusual feeling I’ve experienced from this short encounter easily as I realize that the walls around me are beginning to collapse. The fire is spreading rapidly. I turn back around to see the boy speeding towards me.
“RUN!” he bellows at me as if it might be the last thing he ever says. I begin to see guards emerge from around the corner and my eyes open wide at the realization that their guns are aimed and shooting at us. The boy behind me catches up and grabs my arm, dragging my petrified body down the hallway. “Duck down!” He grabs my head and forces it under his arm, stooping it just below the line of shooting. I feel the whoosh from something zooming over my head.
The adrenaline rush from being shot at propels me to run like I’ve never run before. We run in a diagonal path so as to avoid the fires. The missed shots hit broken pieces of metal and make a resounding pinging sound that pops my eardrums. We come back to the area where most of the rooms were occupied at the time of the attack. Each scream is more earsplitting than the next and I listen for Jev’s voice.
“We need to get out of here!” the boy next to me shouts, sweat trickling down all over his body. “These rooms are in a circle!”
I don’t bother to ask him how he knows. The boy and I both realize that the ceiling in front of us is about to collapse and we push ourselves to run past it just in time. Behind us, the boards fall and fire blocks us from the shooting guards. I look at the boy in our momentary triumph and smile to see him grinning from ear to ear. His smile fades as he realizes that the fire is not far ahead of us and has surrounded us on both sides.
He curses and looks towards the walls on either side of us. He reaches into his pocket and I’m surprised to see him pull out a small bomb. He kisses it before he places it on the wall, clicks a button, and grabs my hand to pull me away. We crouch down on the ground and cover our ears. The bomb goes off and explodes a hole in the wall. He leads me through it and we continue running out into the open air. This is the first time I’ve been outside since the day of the Incident. I had forgotten how the ground feels.
We continue to run until we are a safe distance from the building and then we stop to catch our breath. Our faces are smudged with ash and we’re both burning up.
“Nice job back there,” he says to me, breathing heavily, “you know, staying alive.”
“Thanks,” I say, coughing. “You, uh, did a nice job taking down that wall.” I don’t know how to thank him. My mind is racing everywhere. “My best friend is back there,” I say. “Do you think he made it out okay?”
“God,” he exhales, “I don’t know. Is he strong and fast?”
I’m not sure how to answer. “I suppose so,” I decide.
“Then maybe. You’re not the only one though who lost somebody. My whole team was back there and now they’ve all gone without me,” he states sullenly.
“Doesn’t sound like a great team,” I comment with disinterest.
The boy gives me a hard look as though I’ve crossed the line a little too far. His green eyes swirl around as they concentrate intently on my face. “We saved your life!” he shouts at me.
“Goodness,” I say, raising my eyebrows. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
He looks at me like I’m a child apologizing for stealing a cookie from the jar. He twists his face into a smirk and then laughs it off gently. “I know. I’m sorry for the outburst. I’m just very uptight right now,” he says.
“Why would that be? It’s not like you’ve done anything stressful or strenuous lately,” I comment sarcastically. My sarcasm has never been fully appreciated by Jev, so whenever I meet a new person, I have to test it out to see if they are fluent in my favorite language.
“You’re right,” the boy agrees, letting out a small laugh. “I wish I could come up with a speedy retort to that, but I’m not the quickest thinker.”
I smile at him and delight in the brightness that illuminates his eyes from my joke. “That’s alright,” I say. “Maybe we should start by telling each other our names.”

The boy nods and says quickly, “Of course. My name is Akrin Monroe.” His eyes flutter around my face, expecting a fast response.
“I’m Savina,” I say quietly, my thoughts wandering to where Jev could be. Akrin’s sharp tone disrupts my thoughts.
“Savina what?” he pesters me, flashing an annoying smile. I take note that his bottom teeth are crooked. It’s something I’ve never seen before. Someone his age should already have perfect teeth.
“Willow,” I answer, carefully pronouncing my last name.
He rumples his wild brown hair quickly, exhales, and then bends to sit down in the dirt.
I look at him, confused. “What are you doing?”
He ignores me and places his head onto the ground softly.
The image of Jev’s face works its way to the front of my mind, pushing all other thoughts away. I need to go back and find him. If I didn’t, I would be betraying him. “I’m sorry,” I tell Akrin. “I need to go back for my friend.”

“Be my guest,” Akrin says with a laugh, “but don’t get your hopes up.”
I’m not sure why, but for some reason, his comment really bothers me. The idea of Jev getting lost in the fire seems impossible. Jev may not be the strongest or the fastest person I’ve ever met, but he definitely has a quick mind that could carry him through many situations.
“I’ll stay here,” Akrin calls out to me as I begin to jog back to Jev. The fire has somewhat subsided and I notice trucks are beginning to surround the buildings. I need to get in and out very quickly. I run for a huge exit that has been created by a collapsed wall, leading me into what used to be the cells. I run down the hallway, looking around the ground at many fallen bodies. The screams have stopped and given way to faint moans, as if it is all their body can manage anymore.
As I continue further down the hallway, I become more and more worried. I have not seen Jev’s body. I can’t decide if the absence of a body is a good thing. Then, faintly, I hear the call, “Savina! Savina!” I know it’s coming from him. I wouldn’t mistake that call anywhere. I run towards it and I see him, fallen on the ground, nursing a wound in his thigh.
“Jev, what happened?” I say frantically, reaching down to help him.
“They shot,” he says softly. “Keep your voice down. They are coming in to retrieve the survivors. We need to get out of here.” He tries to move his leg and winces.
I help him up and he stands on one leg, leaning into me. We hobble over to the exit I came in and I poke my head outside to make sure we are safe. There is a truck not too far away. I can’t see if the driver’s seat is occupied, but if Jev can’t run, they may be able to spot us.
I turn back to Jev and say, “I don’t know if we can make it.” I don’t mean to say it in a defeated way, but the words come out as surrender. He looks at me and trusts my judgment, hanging his head.
“Go without me, Savina,” he mumbles quietly.
“Did you take an injury to the head, too?” I ask him, surprised. “I am not leaving you. Ever. You’re my best friend. If I left you, I’d never forgive myself.”
Jev shakes his head. “So you’re going to surrender both of us? You don’t know what they’ll do to us after tonight! Maybe they’ll wrap us in chains or send us away somewhere. Who knows? Maybe with my injury I won’t even be useful anymore. They may not keep me…” he trails off.
I hear yells coming from around the corner. I need to make my choice now. As the shouting nears I make a decision that surprises even me. I bend down and take Jev in my arms, his blood spilling over my right arm. Then, without any hesitation, I step out and make a run for the clearing.

My quick-witted plan does not follow through well in its execution. Jev is heavier than I would have ever expected and I feel myself trudging forward, each step an enormous burden as I am already worn out from all the other turmoil I’ve suffered in the past half hour. I feel us slowing down as I lumber up the hill. He whispers furiously for me to put him down and continue on without him, but I know I could never. Even when we’re spotted.
A guard appears out of one of the trucks, looking right in our direction. In a moment, he has his gun aimed and shooting at us. The first few shots miss, but then he changes guns and something in my gut tells me that the threat level has increased dramatically. Just as he is aiming to take a shot at us, to my surprise, Akrin runs up behind the guard, knocking the gun out of his hands and hitting him in the head, apparently knocking him out.
Jev breathes heavily as he spots Akrin and raises an expectant eyebrow at me. Seeing his face, I give no answer, as we haven’t completely made it out safely. I see Akrin take a small handgun from the unconscious guard, then watch him run towards me, grabbing on to Jev’s legs and helping me lift him to safety. He drops onto the ground with a large thump, sitting up with a little difficulty.
“What were you thinking?” Akrin asks furiously in an accusatory manner, ignoring Jev. “You could have gotten yourself killed! There will undoubtedly be other guards over here in a few minutes. We need to run now!”
Jev and Akrin stare at me for a long time, both eagerly waiting for some sort of a response. I don’t return either glance. Finally, a frustrated Jev calls out, “Who are you?”
Akrin’s chest heaves up and down. I notice how his body is so evenly toned, muscular, unlike Jev’s slim and lanky figure. It doesn’t surprise me though considering the things I’ve already seen him do; he’s blown up a wall, run at the speed of wind, and knocked a guard unconscious. Not your everyday boy. I wonder where he’s from.
“We really don’t have time for this,” he articulates precisely, his green eyes intensely locked on Jev. Fantastic. Animosity already.
Jev returns the gaze as best he can, but eventually grimaces at the pain in his leg. It’s strange to watch male dominancy take place. It appears that my best friend has already surrendered to Akrin. He quickly recoils and asks, “If they’re coming this way, shouldn’t we go?”
Sweat drips down from Jev’s temples and run across his shirt. I feel his damp body as Akrin and I bend down to pick him up. We start walking, quickly and quietly, away from the buildings we were kept in.
After a reasonable distance, Akrin permits us to talk by opening up a conversation. “This wound,” he says, looking down at Jev’s thigh, “is not bad at all. Consider yourself very lucky.”
“A harmless gunshot wound?” Jev replies cynically. “That’s something surprising.”
Akrin ignores him and casts me a glance. I communicate through my face that I apologize for Jev’s behavior. “You should be fine in a few weeks,” he answers carefully.
“A few weeks!?” Jev cries out. “Well that’s hardly convenient, considering that we’re out here in the wild. How am I supposed to help myself recover?”
“Just don’t do anything ridiculous.”
I keep quiet as we continue walking, hoping to not get involved. Jev keeps provoking Akrin into silly arguments and I wish I could intervene, but decide that it is in my best interest to remain quiet.
“What’s your name?” Jev asks again.
“Akrin Monroe,” he answers, with precisely the same inflection as the first time he stated his name to me. “And yours?”
“Jev,” he answers carefully, as if Akrin is a tiger waiting to pounce on its prey.
“Last name?” says Akrin. I wonder why he is so insistent upon full names.
“Sommer. Jev Sommer.” I notice his eyes traveling, examining all of our surroundings, as if on the lookout. I’m sure that paranoia has begun to set into Jev’s character. I’m not surprised.
I remember a time a few years ago when we were purchasing clothes from a shop in our town. He had suspected that the cashier overcharged us. As simple as it sounds, this wasn’t an easy thing for him to let go. Whenever I wore the jacket I bought at the shop, he’d always whisper something about how we’d been cheated, how cashiers tend to take advantage of teenagers paying by themselves.

Jev has reason to be suspicious now. Neither he nor I know anything about Akrin and if we should trust him. He looks towards our rescuer the way you would look at a rotten piece of fruit, like the target of his eye needs to be disposed. I wish I could tell him that Akrin has probably saved both of our lives at least twice already, but I don’t want Jev to begin to not trust me. I always have to be on his side.

After a while, Akrin says, “We should be safe here.” We rest Jev onto the ground and Akrin walks up to a stump. To my surprise, he lifts it up and pulls out a backpack. I give him a confused glance, but he ignores me and carefully opens the bag, pulling out a First Aid Kit.

With the kit, he crouches down next to Jev, lifting up his leg. Jev groans in discomfort. Akrin takes a look at the wound and smiles. “Piece of cake,” he says gently. I turn away so I don’t have to see Akrin work. I hear Jev howl in pain and I involuntarily squeeze my eyes tight and clamp my hands to my ears.

“Done,” Jev says triumphantly.

“What is?” I ask him.

“Removed the bullet,” Akrin says, displaying the miniature item that has caused my best friend so much pain.

Jev breathes in and out quickly and Akrin returns to attending to him, bandaging up his wound. After a few minutes, Jev has calmed down. I think of praising Akrin, but something holds me back. I wouldn’t want to make Jev think I appreciate Akrin more than him.

“Savina,” he says quietly from the ground. “Where am I?” I bend down to look at him in the eyes.

“You’re safe, Jev. Don’t worry,” I reassure him.

He nods and closes his eyes slowly. “I’m going to sleep,” he says, his words blending together. He is very tired.

I watch him slip into slumber while Akrin unpacks the backpack. He pulls out a sleeping bag and offers it to me, but I refuse. I want to watch Jev tonight.

“We need to take turns guarding,” Akrin says, almost reading my thoughts. “Life on the run will always be like this, so get used to it. You might as well take the first shift.”

My body feels like it is collapsing and my eyes are growing heavy, but I know I must stay awake to keep us all safe, so I force myself to remain alert. I see Akrin collapse onto the ground, exhausted, and for a few minutes, a silent wave washes over the three of us, the sounds of nature filling my ears. Instead of allowing the sweet cricket chirps to lull me to sleep, I let the noise stimulate me, awakening every part of me and making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Are you still awake, Willow?” Akrin addresses me.

He flops over to look at me, my eyes, which were beginning to feel heavy with sleep, widen by his address. I see him stare at me for a pretty long time, as if trying to figure out what to say. He must not be able to sleep. I envy him.

After a few moments, he asks, “What’s your friend’s story?”

I glance over at Jev, sound asleep, soft snores escaping out of his lips with a trace of drool trickling down his chin. In this position, he looks pathetic, a thought I feel guilty about thinking of my best friend. I don’t know where to begin. So I answer plainly, “Same as mine.”

“Where are you from?” Akrin says, tilting his head away from Jev, probably to avoid the unpleasant sight of his slobber.

“Our town called Marchwood,” I tell him.

“What was it like there?” he asks, posing the question in a way that seems like it is not just a friendly interview, but rather a inquiry that could answer something else that is on his mind.

“I suppose just like your typical town. We all live in our own homes, but the homes are very close together, so close that we can hear the neighbors,” I answer.

“That must get rowdy,” he comments. “What is your technology like?”

“I suppose we have the basics, like cell phones, televisions, and computers,” I tell him, unsure of why he’s asking.

“Are you aware of the most recent technological destruction?” he asks me, his voice darkening towards the end of the question.

I shake my head, confused by what he means.

“Three days ago, the internet, radio and television broadcasting, and cell phone towers were shut down inexplicably. The world is in a panic. Of course you don’t know about it. I suppose no one told you at that prison you are being kept at,” he says sullenly.

My mind begins reeling with thoughts. All communication has been shut down? I feel the sudden need to find my parents, to talk to them and tell them that I’m alive, that no real harm has come to me. I believed in the good of our government, but the laws kept in order at the old building and Akrin’s word choice of ‘prison’ has really made me second guess ever. What if I was never the one in the danger? What if my parents are? Now I can’t reach them.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Akrin says, sympathizing with me.

“How did you find out?” I ask him.

“I was in an unturned town with a few of the rebels when it happened. We were in a tavern. They were all sitting up at the bar, getting drunk off the remains of the liquor cabinet. It seemed that everyone had been drinking, but the stock had yet to come in. Of course the workers at the tavern thought it was strange, but they were getting too much business and were too drunk themselves to care about the diminishing stock.

“Anyway, there we were. I was probably the only sober one at the tavern in our group. They were laughing and making bets over which team would win Super Bowl CLXII or something when an announcement came on the television. It said that this would be the last functioning broadcast that television and radio would ever hear. Of course are the drunkards in the tavern dismissed it immediately, but I listened carefully as they described that shutting down communications was for our safety, the safety of the general public.

“I immediately reached into my pocket to pull out my phone, to my dismay, I saw I had no signal. My initial reaction was that it was a prank. There is no way that the government could just pull the plug on all technology in the blink of an eye. However, hours later, I realized that my phone was not picking up signal anywhere. As soon as everyone was sobered up, they all realized it, too. It was recognized as the beginning of the ending of the world: the Technological Termination.”

“Hold up,” I say interrupting him. “You think that the world is coming to an end.”

“It’s not a ‘think’ anymore, Willow,” he says to me, indignantly. “There is evidence of it all over the globe. Take your happy town of WouldSmile-“

“Marchwood,” I correct him.

“You were all happy and fine and then one day, BOOM! The teenagers are dragged into vans kicking and screaming, the parents are locked away, the younger kids thrown into the fire that has destroyed the entire town in a heartbeat. Do you honestly think things like that just happen?” he questions.

“No, of course not,” I answer.

“Then what did you think was going on?” he asks me.

I ponder it for a little while and then respond by saying, “I suppose I was waiting for someone else to tell me.”

Akrin nods and smiles. “You see! That is exactly what is happening to this generation. We’re having people think and act for us and when something really devastating or questionable happens, we take it like a grain of salt and wait for instructions on how we should proceed after the event,” he reasons.

I don’t like being grouped into this opinion. I’ve always liked to think of myself as one that doesn’t conform, ever since I suggested that Jev should keep his glasses. I considered myself too smart for the government to think for me, but evidently, I was wrong. This whole situation has utterly perplexed me to the point where I don’t know what to do.

“Are you understanding me?” Akrin asks.

“Yes,” I answer him. “I’m sorry. Do you mind if you give me some time to think about this?” I ask. “I’m really confused right now.”

Akrin nods in understanding. “I know exactly how you feel,” he answers. “Just take some time and sleep on it.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, lying down on to the ground. Even though it is dirty and bumpy, I feel like I am finally comfortable. I know I won’t sleep well, though, with all these news thoughts to consider. I will undoubtedly dream about all this new information.

Akrin watches me carefully. The last things I see before I fall into sleep are his feet. I hadn’t realized before, but he isn’t wearing shoes. The bottoms of his toes are covered in dirt and cuts, some still fresh with red blood. I can tell just by looking at him that he has been through a lot and this trait about him makes me intrigued. I want to learn about his story.

My eyes close peacefully, but when they open again, I am brought into a world of even more chaos and confusion than I could have ever imagined.