11/12/11
"It's time."
She shook her head furiously. No, no, it couldn't be. Not now, not yet! The woman stared back at her, mouth twitching slightly in annoyance. The smoke from her cigarette drifted up and drew ghosts into the dark room, illuminated by only a single light.
"Please don't make me leave!"
With a sigh and a puff of smoke, the greying woman simply repeated herself, "It's time, Miss Burns."
Her hands shook as she grasped the edges of her hood like a lifeline. It was coming, and she knew it. She had known since six months ago, when Scout had bashed open the Intel. She had known since Maxine confronted her in the belly of Double Cross. Suddenly she felt extremely sick.
"Do not even dare retch on the carpet, Miss Burns. Instead proceed to the room to your left." The Administrator narrowed her eyes. "Immediately."
Maybe she would respawn? Maybe, just maybe the Engineer had kept her DNA hooked up in that blasted machine? Her thoughts raced to even more implausible, fantastical notions. Maybe she was dreaming? Her nightmares had been this garish, this vivid and real at one point during her employment. Her feet felt like magnificent weights held them fast to the ground. The Administrator tapped her fingers on her crossed arms, eyebrow raised. Express stole a quick glance at the other door, the door that had brought her in and held the last strings of escape. Escape that was quickly sliding away with each heavy, awkward step she took toward the door.
After what seemed liked hours, much to the old woman's annoyance, Express reached the door, hand trembling on its smooth handle.
"Go in," the Administrator commanded. Seeing the young woman hesitate, she added with disgust, "My patience is not limitless, Miss Burns."
Express swallowed, hard, as the door slowly creaked open. A white light filtered through the crack and her whole body shivered. Keep going, she heard a familiar, warm voice whisper, it's okay, it's okay. Still trembling, Express stepped into the light, closing the door with a soft click behind her.
The Administrator took a long drag from her cigarette holder and flicked the grey ash from its tip into the ashtray on her desk.
"Miss Pauling."
Her faithful assistant shuffled forward from the shadows, ubiquitous clipboard mashed flat against her chest and fingers tense with anxiety. She gave a timid inquiry.
"Search through Miss Burn's file. Find me an address. Any address. As long as the resident knew her well. And I'll need a name too."
"Y-yes, ma'am. Will do," Miss Pauling replied quickly. Much too quickly and she knew but scuffled off anyway. She closed the door to the Administrator's office just in time to block out the horrible, searing shriek that always ended an execution.