Nightmare: Imogen
The lasagna was not burnt, but it was not good for my delicate stomach, either. Perhaps that was why I had such viciously vivid dreams that night.
***
Unfortunately, I dreamed of the day that we first descended into the torture chamber that existed within the Cleanse Camp; the game that the Cleansers simply referred to as “The Trial.”
Zeke allowed us almost an hour of sleep in our cells before waking us and marching us outside to a cliff which looked out over a desert of red rock. It was the opposite of aesthetically pleasing; it was bleak, and it gave me the chills.
I reached for Alex’s hand, and he squeezed mine softly before we both let go.
“It starts down there,” muttered Zeke, pointing at a titanium platform that sat above a glistening white staircase at the edge of the cliff.
“You’re coming with us?” asked Alex, frowning. “Why? It can’t be that easy for us to get away.”
“It’s impossible to get away,” Zeke retorted, “but I’m coming, just the same. I won’t be participating in the game; I’m just there to keep an eye on you.”
“This entire thing is fucking stupid,” Alex went on. He was rubbing his hands together the way he always did when he was at his most nervous; trying to contain the feeling within his body rather than to demonstrate “unmanly emotions” or whatever sexist nonsense human men are always mired in. “I figured you were going to separate us to make us as miserable as possible,but apparently we get to work as a team. And what’s the point of this ’game’ shit, anyway? Why not just stab me in the gut a few times until I start bleeding out? Seems like a more efficient way to get me to talk.”
Zeke opened his mouth, but I didn’t wait for his explanation. It was perfectly clear to me what was going on here, and it was beyond disgusting. It was the product of a very disturbed, psychotic mind, and I was just as frightened of it as Alex was.
“It’s actually all very sound from a psychological standpoint, darling,” I informed him. “You’re an experienced member of the resistance, and therefore no one expects you to simply burst into tears and to give away all the juicy secrets under boring, traditional torture. Instead, they intend to utterly mentally break us by allowing us to play a ‘game,’ which gives us the mistaken impression that our actions will have some consequence as to whether we ‘win,’. That’s the nature of a game; it provides ‘win conditions.’ This will lure us into a false sense of potential, a false optimism, if you will, which will make our ultimate defeat and destruction even more painful and devastating. Multiple repeated instances of this will demoralize and destroy us, which will be far more effective than a simple stab to the stomach.”
Zeke just blinked at me.
“Aren’t you some kind of beauty queen?” he asked.
I flipped my hair at him and winked.
“Yeah,” agreed Alex, “and she’s also an award-winning advertising executive. Or at least, she was, back when we had a planet. You ever heard of ‘Drookie’s Cookies?’”
Zeke nodded in surprise.
“‘Course I have,” he said. “Those commercials always have this stupidly cute wombat in them with chocolate all over its face. Makes me laugh every time.”
I had rather a hard time imagining Zeke laughing, but of course he must have done so, once. Once, he must have been a person just like us.
“Well,” finished Alex, shrugging, “Drookies was Imogen’s contract, and all those commercials are her work.”
Zeke looked impressed.
“No shit,” he muttered.
“She’s pretty,” added Alex, grinning at me, “but she’s nowhere near stupid.”
“”You say the sweetest things, Alex,” I murmured, kissing him on the cheek.
Zeke nodded, apparently accepting that.
“How exactly,” he went on, “did you two meet, anyway?”
“I was working as a waiter at a cocktail bar,” said Alex.
“That much is true,” I agreed, “but what he hasn’t told you is that he made the most delicious Red Headed Sluts the universe has ever known. Shame you’ll never get to taste one; it would change your life. They certainly changed mine.”
“And … then you started hooking up?” Zeke seemed strangely fascinated by Alex and my relationship, which I suppose wasn’t too surprising. People often found it odd.
“No,” I insisted. “Ew. Sex is repulsive. We would never.”
Zeke looked confused.
“Now,” I went on swiftly, “are you going to torture us, or not?”
“I’ve got a question.” Alex gazed down the stairs.
“So do I,” Zeke mumbled, but we both ignored him.
“What happens,” demanded Alex, “if I refuse to play?”
“Don’t refuse,” muttered Zeke. “Please.”
“Yeah? I think I’m gonna.” Alex met my eyes, and I shook my head
“Alex,” I began, “I don’t think-!”
He sat firmly down on the ground and tucked his knees into his chest.
“So?” He raised an eyebrow at Zeke. “Show me what happens to the kids who misbehave.”
Zeke shut his eyes and whispered something under his breath. Unfortunately, I am not proficient in reading dinosaur snouts, so to this day I’ve no idea what it was.
“Just…remember that I asked you not to make me do this,” he choked out, and then his fingers twitched.
A scalding, electric bolt of pain shot through my body, followed quickly by another, and another. I screamed and collapsed, writhing and convulsing on the ground. There was nothing in my world except for that awful, searing pain.
For a moment, I wanted to die. Then, I wasn’t able to want anything; the pain was everything; there was no room for thought or feeling.
The world went strangely white.
“HOLY FUCK,” bellowed Alex, and I could hear the sheer terror in his voice. “STOP! I’m the one who resisted, not Imogen! Leave her alone!”
“I didn’t want to do it,” Zeke whispered in a strange, distant voice that I could just barely hear. “Please just play the game, Alex. Please.” He was begging, now.
“OKAY! Fuck, I’ll play your gods-damned game,” Alex shouted, and the shocks instantly stopped. I fell on my face in the dirt, sucking in air and sobbing. My body felt burnt and heavy, and it hurt so badly even to breathe. I gasped and coughed over and over again before I realized that I could, in fact, feel a healthy sensation returning in some parts of my body.
Alex reared back and punched Zeke in the face. The Inrai just took the blow in silence, staggering back and clutching at the blood now gushing from his snout.
“Imogen,” gasped Alex, kneeling beside me and gathering me to his chest. “I’m sorry; I’m so sorry. I thought it would happen to ME, not to you. It’s gonna be okay; you’re gonna be okay. Stay with me; I won’t pull that shit again. Not until we kill.this slave driver, anyway.” He glowered up at Zeke, who just gazed back, eyes blank, shoulders shaking.
“That’d be just fine with me,”he mumbled. “Be my gods-damned guest.”
And finally, I understood. I realized how it was that this place destroyed everyone it touched, no matter how fierce or formidable they might once have appeared.
“Zeke,” I rasped, propping myself up on my elbows, reveling in the merciful absence of the shocks. “Is that what happens to you if you disobey? If you hadn’t shocked me, would the system have shocked you?”
Zeke shook his head.
“Nah,” he muttered, turning away. “If I had disobeyed, they would have instantly zapped Gabriel. At least they don’t make me watch them do it to him anymore.”
He cleared his throat, straightened his shoulders, then produced a bottle of water and sat down at my side.
I wasn’t angry with him.
Well, no; that isn’t true. I was furious with him, but it was the same sort of quick, irrational, raging anger that had prompted Alex to hit him first and think second.
At the same time, however, I thought of what I would do to literally anyone else in the universe if I thought that Alex was at risk of receiving the pain I’d just endured.
I realized that if I had to, I would kill Zeke in a moment to protect Alex, not out of anger, but out of simple necessity. I felt dehumanized and yet energized in one simultaneous instant.
We had yet to even begin the game.
“Drink,” Zeke told me, and there was a new gentleness in his voice that I had not been prepared for. “We won’t go down to the game today; you’re in no shape, and you’re no use to anyone dead. Alex?” Damnit, look at me. Just … look at me.”
Alex didn’t say anything. He just held on tight to my hand and stared straight ahead.
“Alex,” I whispered, but he didn’t respond. “I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m going to be fine.”
I wasn’t, and we both knew it. Neither was he, and the true horror of our situation had finally begun to set in.
“Drink,” insisted Zeke, taking my hands and pressing them around the bottle. “It’ll cool your throat. I’ve got plenty of water, for now at least. We don’t have to start rationing that until the third or fourth level.”
I drank.