The MATRIX: The One
15 - Katniss cracks a code
Katniss POV
Pop!
I return fire from just inside the open door. The agent is sprinting for the car, but he can't both dodge my bullets and manage maximum speed at the same time. Pop pop pop!
Twelve feet.
Pop! Pop!
Eight…
Whoosh!
The doors are shut.
Crack! Ping! A spider web of fissures punches into the glass, but the window holds.
Six…
And then the train is rolling. Fuck. They know where we are and it's only a matter of time before the conductor gets rewritten by an agent—or maybe they'll just be waiting for us at the next station. That's probably the most likely scenario. The agent on the subway platform hadn't been able to reach the doors before they'd closed, but then again he hadn't really tried.
Which means Peeta and I are heading for the shit storm to end all shit storms.
"Fuck!" I hiss.
Peeta coughs. "Yeah. This kinda sucks."
I blow out a breath, a rebuke on the tip of my tongue: he shouldn't have listened to Finnick's stupid order to tag along! I don't need a Goddamn partner!
"We made it longer than fourteen seconds, though." Cough. Gurgle.
I jerk toward him, my gaze sweeping the empty subway car and diving into a deepening puddle of blood on the floor.
"Peeta!"
"Yeah, yeah. Still here."
I crash to my knees next to him. He winces as I run my hands over his arms and chest. "Where were you hit?"
"Dunno. Everything hurts. But you're okay, right?"
"Damn you," I grit out. "You're not allowed to save me again. It's my fucking turn!"
"Sorry. I guess I just don't—" Cough. Wince. "—play well with others."
"Shut up." The blood is soaking through the knees of my pants now. I yank Peeta's jacket from his shoulders and roll him over onto his stomach on the grimy floor. I quickly find three oozing holes in his flesh. Lung shot. Kidney. The third is probably wedged somewhere on the other side of his spinal column and who the hell knows what kind of damage it's done to him.
I reach for his hand. "You gotta fight this for me. Do you hear me? You've got to fight."
He shakes his head. "No. You go. Get outta here."
"I'm not leaving you. I'm not gonna do that!" I'm screaming at him but I don't care. He lets out a strangled cry when I press my forehead to the center of his back. I can smell the blood, feel it staining my skin and clumping in my eyelashes. This is real: this is Peeta, dying by degrees in my arms.
The train shakes as it hits a curve. I don't know how much more time we have and I don't give a shit. "I'm not leaving you. Ever. Goddamn it, you pull it together."
"Like Jo was telling Finn?"
"Yes. You can do this. Come on. It's not that hard. It's like having a nightmare and figuring out that you're dreaming and then taking control of—"
"I always sucked at that."
"You made the jump."
"Because you were waiting for me. Because you needed me. On the other building. I imagined it – you were in trouble and—" When he coughs this time blood splatters on the floor.
I grit my teeth. I press my hands over the lower two bullet wounds and apply my own cheek to the third, the one that has punctured his lung. "I'm not letting go," I tell him, frantic to think of a way to save him. I have to save him. I have to save Peeta.
The train swerves again. The station will be coming up soon. The agents will be waiting. We're both going to die.
I squeeze my eyes shut so tight, tiny sparkles dance across my pitch-black field of vision. God. Please. I'd give anything – do anything – to turn back the clock. To take these bullets for Peeta. To force him to head off with Jo and Finn. I'd give anything for a do-over. Anything!
My desperation comes out as a scream.
Peeta shushes my weakly. "It's… gonna be okay. You're… the one."
"I hate that fucking title!" Who the hell told him about that?!
"No." His hands – cold, pale, trembling – fumble for the end of my braid. "No. You're the one for me. Love you. Katniss." He sighs and it almost sounds happy. "Blossom. Katniss blossom. It's a flower. That's it. Where I know your name from. Katniss."
I want him to shut up. I want him to never stop talking. I want him. I want him I want him I want him. Rolling my face against his blood-soaked T-shirt, I mash my face – eye-nose-eye and back again – into his hard muscles. The tiny green sparkles that had flickered behind my closed eyelids turn into a trickle. Trickling like drips and drops, scrolling. Green and then white, then green, then darker and—
Wait.
I press even closer to him. He attempts a groan but doesn't really have the air for it. His lung is full of blood. The left one. I can see it. I can see it.
Oh, God. I'm holding the code – Peeta's code in my arms. My eyes fly open in shock and I almost howl in frustration, certain that I'll lose my grasp on the characters, but they're still there. I can still see them, feel them… can I change them?
I hunt for the bullet. I find it. I reach out to the code and… erase it.
Peeta gasps. "Kat—Kat—?"
I scan over strings of commands for smooth, unbroken skin and healthy muscles. Select. Copy. Then I search and then stumble over the hole carved into him by the bullet. Select. Insert. Repair.
"Shit! Shit. What—?"
"Shh!" The train is beginning to slow. I erase the blood in his lung and the other two bullets. I patch his muscles and skin, knit shattered bone. He's still bleeding internally, though. He's still—
"The doors! Move!"
He rolls over and shoves me away, knocking me toward the space under the seats against the wall which faces the platform, tucking me out of sight, safe from immediate discovery. But leaving himself exposed in a bloody puddle on the floor.
No!
And then he slumps. Limp. Lifeless. If not for the fact that I can see his heart beating – I can feel the rhythm of it through the pulse of ones and zeroes that make up everything in the Matrix – I would have thought him dead, but he's not dead. He's faking. And since he's not part of the system, the agents won't suspect otherwise.
They won't spare him a glance. He can still get out of here. Call Gale and get to a new exit. But I know he won't go. He won't leave me. The idiot is probably going to leap on the first agent to set foot on this train and try to save me again. I scramble to unholster my guns in perfect silence. I don't bother hoping no one will board the train. I've never been that lucky. But if I can get a clear shot before I'm seen – if I can wait until the doors close before I take the shot – I might be able to protect Peeta for however long it takes us to get to the next station. And then I can deal with however many of them there are waiting for us there. I can do this. I can do this all damn day if I have to. I can—
A patent leather shoe crosses the threshold. A perfectly hemmed trouser leg with a perfect pleat. There is no gasp of shock and revulsion. This passenger is not surprised by the sight of Peeta lying opposite the door so pale and still.
This passenger is an agent.
I close my eyes, search out those green, ghostly sequences. Do I know enough of agent coding to kill him before he spots me?
The agent takes a step forward. Any second now, he'll zero in on me—
"Katniss?"
My eyes fly open. I stare at Peeta. His heart rate spikes. Yes, he'd heard it, too.
"Katniss? Are you here?"
Oh, God. Prim.
This isn't just any agent. This is the agent who has been using my sister as his host for the last eight fucking years.
Son of a bitch!
"You're gonna have to be willing to risk two lives in order to free hers, sweetheart. Two for one."
Two lives: Peeta's and mine. I can shoot this agent, point blank, and save Peeta and myself. I can keep us safe for a few more minutes or seconds if I kill my own sister. Or, I can take a chance. I can gamble with our lives. One thing is certain: I can't play it safe. Safe is not an option, not anymore.
I take a deep breath. I tighten my bloody fingers around the guns. The car doors whisper closed. The train begins to move.
And now I have to choose.
NOTES: This is where I hide behind my artistic license and say OF COURSE it's totally possible that the subway platform and train are completely empty in the middle of the day in some ginormous city because, hey, it's the Matrix and weird stuff like that is totally possible. OK, but seriously. I always thought it was weird in the movie how the agents start being so OBVIOUS at the end. They pop out everywhere which seems to go against their low-profile image throughout the first 70% of the movie. So, I'm sticking with the low profile deal. In the previous chapter, Katniss says the agents are "herding" her and Peeta, so the agents want to get them alone so they can kill them without making a big scene. How do they do this? Well, I imagine that the Matrix sends a code out to the people on the subway platform and on the train that gives them a really bad feeling (say, a premonition of doom? Remember, all these people are plugged into the Matrix via a neural connection, and many (if not all) of our emotional responses are triggered by chemicals in the brain, so I think it'd be easy to manipulate a couple dozen people into suddenly vacating an area). So that's how the platform and the train ends up deserted. As to why an army of agents don't descend all at once, well, they have no proof that Katniss and Peeta are dangerous or exceptional. One or two agents have eradicated hackers before, so they expect this to be as easy as those previous encounters.
OK, I hope that answers any questions you might have. LOOKING FORWARD TO YOUR COMMENTS!