The Watcher
Everything was still. The only sound came from their footsteps clacking on the glossy wood-grain floor. They grasped the handle, pushed the door, and stepped into a darkened room.
Blink.
Red.
The light—they froze. A tiny light at their desk flashed, slightly above the monitor. It was rigged to blink when the camera caught motion. Might be a false alarm — could be an animal or another storm messing with the sensor.
But perhaps this was it.
Without a beat, they pulled off their coat and sank into a chair facing the desk. It had been months since they introduced Plytechfan to a lead. They couldn't be too certain the user was who they suspected, but time was running out.
The monitor came to life. The feed dominated the screen; half the picture was obstructed by a section of the lab's roof—at least the camera was concealed. The other half of the picture had five people in grey, some out of view in the frame, but five.
Their heart jolted. It was them. They slipped off their gloves and placed them beside the desk, their bracelet swaying until it nestled between keyboard keys.
All greys wore long coats. Some pushed wooden casks into the frame and disappeared under the roof. One member stood out. A man with frames on his face was pacing back and forth, phone to his ear. He didn't wear a mask like the others, and his coat was untightened, hanging loose from his shoulders. He pointed in various directions, and the others followed. He appeared to be the leader.
Zoomed in, the wooden rims of the frames on his nose looked larger than the glass. It was hard to tell for sure from the colored pixels alone, but he didn’t appear to have darkened skin patching his face. Figured they were Fated, anyway. The others, pushing and shoving, moved like Fated. The leader turned. The phone in his hand was metal and wires. He had a bracelet on his wrist—a Vocate.
The group seemed organized, required little instruction, and carried barrels to the site—likely fuel.
There was no doubt that this was Spring—the rebel group eliminating Supremacy supplies. They were all believed to be Inert—a Vocate was a shock. Perhaps they all were, and under the guise of Amal citizens. Spring just became slightly more interesting.
Spring members ran around, leaving and re-entering the picture. There were fewer of them than predicted. And they seemed just to be getting started.
Tilting back in the chair, they rolled their head to the side to get comfortable.
It was going to be a long night.
Miles
?
Miles did it.
He wasn't sure why he'd hesitated. Or why he almost bailed. Turned out it was easier than he expected.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
The ball ricocheted off the wall four times before stopping. His best yet.
Thup. Thup. Thup. He jogged through the empty hallway as the ball rolled and caught on the shaggy, crumbling carpet.
The bouncy ball was a lucky find in the room they entered through the window. Miles got to it first. Emi was fast to load up her pack and went off on her own, claiming dibs on the first floor. Zax picked up anything shiny he found. If Miles wanted a metal tool, he had to pick it up before Zax saw it, or it would end up in his pile of hoarded pointy objects.
Miles always took home the more interesting things everyone else failed to notice. His collection had small toys with broken parts, heavy magnets that stuck hard to metal, a plastic skull he had tried to convince everyone was real. And now a new bouncy ball, replacing the others that got lost — or that Pablo tossed out after getting hit by it one too many times.
He rotated his arm, pitched it back, and Whoosh, the ball flung straight into another wall. Blam. Blam. Blam. Sch. It stopped bouncing. Zax stood in the center of the hallway, pinching the ball.
The one Miles was definitely not playing with.
He held the ball out in front of him, approaching Miles. Damn. Be leaderly-Miles.
He held his arms up. "Not sure where that came from." He looked behind him.
Zax looked confused and then put the ball into the black hole of his pack. R.I.P. Miles will never see it again.
Miles straightened and pulled his quicker strap tightly. Thwwp. "You done with the North end?"
Zax nodded and started strolling toward Miles, hands at his belt and shoulders back. Too calm. Then he stood, towering over Miles, quiet as ever. What the hell is he doing?
He turned his arm toward Miles so he could read what he had on his phone's screen.
'Test'
Test. Test? "Test? What do you mean?" Zax's blue eyes were cold. He folded his arms and rolled his head to the side, bothered by the question. Whatever. So Miles didn't get it. No one would.
Zax threw his elbows out straight in front of him, like two lines, or walls, and then pointed behind him, then behind Miles, then pointed at his phone.
"Wait... are you saying someone is testing us?"
Zax paused and shook his head slowly. Tik. He typed, then he stopped, and went back to staring at his phone.
"Geez. Sorry. I'm not very good at charades." One thing Miles had learned about Zax is that-- Well, most of the time, he didn't make any sense. He usually only typed one word at a time and thought you could read his mind.
Tap. Tap. Miles tapped his fingers on the wall, "Is this important?" he asked Zax.
Then Zax dropped his arm at his side. Probably realized it wasn't. He stepped around Miles, heading the way Miles came from. Uh, what's he doing now? Wasting their time. Miles had already cleared those rooms. Zax wasn't going to find anything valuable.
Miles turned "Hey! I need you to check the rooms by the stairwells."
Zax paused for a moment and then kept walking. Damnit. More for Miles to do. Thanks, Zax.
Slam. Miles' boot knocked the door in, swinging it wide open until it hit the wall. He held his swiper in his palm, the metal jutting into his fingers.
Damn, he loved this tool. Emi's birthday gift to him two years ago. Only he and Emi had one. Blue fibers were wrapped around the center-Just needed to slip it into a door frame, swipe, and the locking mechanism broke almost every time.
The room was empty. Of course it was. Almost everyone he checked had nothing to pocket. Still, there were rooms with trinkets and wares he thought valuable enough for another look. In this room, there were cupboards with broken doors in the corner. A small metal table sat awkwardly on the floor, a tall metal cabinet beside it. Everything he saw had nothing inside or on its surface. The cabinet was the only thing that might be hiding anything at all. They usually only had paper, nothing of real use.
He pulled the top drawer of the file cabinet. Thunk. It didn't budge. He tried the second. Thunk. The Third. Thunk. What the flying shit fucks kind of pre-emptive prank were people in the airport playing? He tried his swipe tool, but it didn't fit between the drawer gaps. Pow. Ka-thunk. Miles kicked the cabinet to dislodge whatever lock was holding it in place.
Crash. The cabinet fell onto its side and slammed into the metal table with wheels beside it. The table spun, hit the wall, and a small drawer shook loose from under the surface. Boom. Clatter. Miles flinched. Freaking Favored. Emi and Zax probably heard that. Well, he managed to pry one drawer open—a hidden one. Miles jostled the drawer more and picked up a pair of metal scissors. Really shitty scissors... Miles squeezed the blades on his arm. They pinched. Whatever they were, they weren't sharp at all—not even bladed. He used the scissors things to grab the sleeve of his coat and pull it back down his wrist. Sweet.
At least there was one interesting thing in here. Miles headed to the door and looked over the room one more time. Clear-no, not quite-What was that? A red ribbon was tangled in dust beneath the turned-over cabinet. Miles picked it up and shook it off. Pufft. Pufft. Dirt still covered it, but it could clean up nicely.
Emi would probably like it... Yeah, she would probably like it a lot. Not enough to forgive Miles for everything, but maybe it would help...
He brought it to his nose. Smelled old—might look like he had a long red mustache. He should show it to Pablo before giving it to Emi.
"Miles? Is everything okay?"
Miles turned to meet Emi at the door, still holding the ribbon above his lips.
"Hi," he said.
*** Character-specific extras included in post author's note*
[Extra] Miles in "Pablo's Phone"
in case anything goes wrong.