William sat on his bed, watching George and Henry walk from one corner to another nervously. Neither looked where they were going, making them run into each other frequently. Something that he found amusing.
George laid some ragged sheets and a mask next to William on the bed. After giving a short, though quick, explanation of how to tie the sheets around his arms, torso, and legs, he walked away, crashing against Henry once again. William did as the boy said, wrapping the sheets around his arms to make some sort of protective bandage.
"It helps in case they bite or scratch you," George said while doing his own bandages.
Not really questioning it, William took off his jumper, picked the largest strap of sheet and wrapped it around his torso. Tying it was complicated, but he managed to do a pretty decent job, in his opinion. He put his jumper back on and sat down to proceed with his legs. One at a time.
"Protect the one you use to keep your balance most often more," Henry suggested as he wrapped his own sheet around his torso.
"Right, because I know that when I have no memories," William commented with a hint of tease to his words.
"Alright, genius, get up. Get up and relax. Don't think about it, just relax." William followed Henry's orders, placing most of his weight on his right leg. "There you go. The right leg."
"Thanks," William muttered.
He sat back down on the bed, pulling up his trouser cuffs to wrap the sheets around his legs. As Henry had advised him, he took a bit more time and sheets to protect the right one. He didn't know exactly why, but it was clear that everyone was past the stage of accepting questions.
"You guys about done?" Bea asked from the cafeteria's door frame.
"Just a second, please," William asked, since he still had to secure his left leg bandage.
"No need to say please and thank you here, William. We're not really that proper," Bea chuckled. "And don't worry, just come with your mask on to the cafeteria when you're done."
Henry and George exchanged amused looks the moment Bea walked back to the cafeteria, which piqued William's interest. "What is it?"
"Nothing, nothing. Just thinking that Bea's being weirdly nice to you." Henry shrugged his shoulders. "She's not like that with George and me . . ." He turned to look at George. "You don't think she hates us, do you?"
William chuckled softly, shaking his head as he directed his attention back to his bandage. "What did you two do to her? She's nice."
"Hey, we did nothing. What did you do to make her like you?" George questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"Nothing." William took his mask with an attempt at a cocky smile. "It might just be because we might be alike in a way. Unlike her, I'm not sure."
In the cafeteria, all the girls stood around a table, ready to go out. William put his mask on and walked to Flor, who welcomed him by resting her arm on his shoulder. They chatted normally, discussing things that seemed silly compared to what they'd be doing in a couple of hours.
However, when Henry and George joined them, the real discussion began. They all talked about what to do if they arrived at the place and there was a trap, or countless Cranks waiting for them.
Everyone provided ideas and strategies, though it was difficult to plan anything without knowing exactly what they would fight against. If there was any fighting at all. No one knew what to expect from that mission. They just hoped that it wouldn't make them lose anyone else.
After coming up with twenty different plans and double-checking they carried it all — weapons, the backpacks with the necessary, and masks —, they departed north. It surprised William how they walked all together, not letting anyone trail behind or stay on the lead. And so on they went for an hour and a half until reaching an old, run-down car park.
Mae pulled Rowan and Henry behind a fallen pillar with her, prompting everyone to follow them and hide. No one knew what she had seen, and neither would they question it.
William closed his eyes to focus on his hearing. There were cries, grunts, and occasional yells. Some were much fainter than others. However, there were so many, it was difficult to tell where they came from exactly.
"What the fu–" Henry whispered, being cut by Mae, who clasped her hand over his mouth while using her free one to motion him not to say another word.
They all tried to calm their breathing and stay as still as they could, anything that could keep them from being found out. William pressed his back against the fallen pillar, staring at the opposite side from the strange sounds, which was a vast desert.
Now what? He thought, keeping his urge to peek at the danger to the minimum. Not only would he risk his life, but the others' as well. And, while he had an inner debate on whether to risk his life like that, he wouldn't do that to the rest. So he took in a deep breath and glanced at his team to see if anyone had decided on which plan to follow yet.
"Alright." Mae got everyone's attention back to her with a simple whisper. "Leen, how many are we up against?"
Leen swiftly turned around and peeked over the pillar. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. At least, until she turned back around and sat with her back pressed against the pillar.
"At least twenty. I counted ten out here, but I can hear others inside the building."
Mae nodded, her eyebrows furrowing as her eyes travelled from one person to another. "OK. Plan C. Leen, William, you're up."
Following orders, William took out his knife and turned around carefully, trying not to alert the Cranks. He peeked over the pillar, encountering the same sight as Leen. The Cranks lived up to their nightmarish description. Some had no nose, others no ears, hands, or even eyes.
"Three," Leen counted down in a low tone, forcing William's attention back to the plan. "Two." They chose different targets, the closest to the pillar, and aimed at their hearts. "One."
The knives flew, taking both Cranks down. They weren't dead. At least not yet, but it would take them a minute to try to fight back until they bled to death. In that time, the rest ran over to those Cranks that had been startled by the noise, while Leen and William finished off the ones on the ground.
William twisted the knife before taking it out of the Crank's heart, making sure it was dead before aiming at another Crank that had just heard the noises from inside the building and was running towards the outside. He threw the knife, taking the Crank to the ground.
One after another, the group continued with the strategy until no Cranks were left inside the building and they had left all the corpses outside. Henry and Bea ran to get the backpacks, which they had left by the pillar, and brought them inside, letting Mae close the door with the lock.
"OK, no masks off yet." The leader ordered, turning to inspect the building further. "George, check if that door is still closed. Bea, Henry, make sure the beds are intact."
William turned his head around many times, taking in his surroundings. He, George, and Flor were the last ones in the large bluish-grey room. Contrary to the first building, this one had a single table, the rest was empty. There were two more doors as well. One that had a bathroom sign right next to it, and the one George was going towards, with a knife in hand.
"Um, Mae?" Flor called, pulling William to the table in the centre of the room as if wanting him to see the same as she did. "That wasn't there before."
"What wasn't?" asked William.
"The note." She pointed at a white piece of paper on the table, perfectly folded and kept, even though Cranks had just been there for who knew how long. "That shouldn't be here."
"Yeah, well, we have another problem, then," George said, giving both of them one quick glance before pushing the supposedly closed door open. "This shouldn't be like this either."
The three exchanged concerned glances for a second, collectively deciding their next move. "Mae!"
Footsteps approached the room rapidly from the bedroom's door, not hiding her sudden worry for a second. "What? What happened?"
"There's a note," Flor said while William pointed at it, neither daring to touch it.
"And the door's opened," George added.
Mae frowned in confusion, walking over to the door first. They all glanced inside, feeling slightly frustrated. There was nothing except janitor clothing and cleaning products. Only one wall, the one across from the door, had been left empty.
"Well, that's disappointing," George muttered, making the girls and William nod along with his statement.
Mae then turned to look at Flor and William, her eyes travelling from one to another. "What about the note? What did it say?"
They shrugged. "No idea," William began, "we didn't read it."
"Alright," Mae mumbled. "George, get the others. Let's see what WICKED wants from us. Again."
"Sure will." George's voice was serious, which William didn't expect at all.
He sat down at the table with Flor and Mae, their eyes glued to the note. His hands kept checking his mask, just to make sure it was still there. The air was heavy, which added another level of difficulty in breathing.
"We leave you guys alone for five minutes, and this happens." Henry's attempt at a joke was surprisingly well received at the table.
Bea sat down next to Henry, holding Leen's hand as she left a spot on the other side for the shorter girl to sit down. The pair glanced at Mae expectantly, making Rowan huff.
"Let's just read it already. It's not like we'll have a chance to refuse. There's no food at all in this darn place."
Mae took the note and smoothed it, reading the content at least twice before letting out an exhausted sigh. She buried her face in her hands, tossing the note to Rowan, who didn't doubt to read it.
"Oh, come on. You have to be kidding me." Rowan pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling everyone's eyes on her. "We have to move. Again."
"What? We just got here!" Flor exclaimed.
"Yeah, and we have no food. And the only water we can get is from the bathroom's sink," William added.
Rowan threw the note on the table. "Well, tell that to WICKED, 'cause they don't care. Tomorrow morning at exactly six in the morning, we leave through something called 'Flat Trans'. I don't know what that is, but it's supposed to appear on the darn new open room wall."
No one dared to contradict the note. Without food, they wouldn't last much. William understood that, but what he didn't was the lack of questions. No one took the note from the table. They all accepted Mae's frustration and Rowan's words as everything they needed to know. It didn't make sense to him. What if they had unintentionally overlooked some important information that any other could point out?
Trying not to be disrespectful, he slowly took the note and read it a few times. Now he understood. It wasn't that Rowan's explanation was brief. The note was the one to leave barely no detail at all.
"How can you guys even do the missions with this much lack of detail?" He wondered out loud, which caused them to chuckle.
"You get used to it," said Bea, holding Leen closer to her. "So, what do we do in the meantime?"
Mae raised her head from her hands, rubbing her eyes to keep her frustration at bay. "Anyone up to go to sleep?" No one spoke. "Thought so." She huffed. "I don't know. Do you birdies want to talk about something, then?"
"Well, isn't William holding up nicely? I thought he would cry after killing for the first time." Leen let go of Bea's hand to lean on her, resting her head on Bea's shoulder.
William froze in his seat. Leen had a point. He had killed. Even if the Cranks were long past what looked like the point of no return, and they had lost all their humanity, they were still people.
His knife, kept in his holster, was covered in blood. His own clothes had splatters of blood on them. How could he be fine? How could he not seem to care? Why did it feel like it was a normal thing? Like he had done it before.
"I'm just joking, Birdie," Leen assured him with a comforting tone. "Most of us are the same."
"What?" He raised his eyes, looking at everyone.
"That's what we told you," Mae began. "We're the same as you."
"No memories. No explanations." Flor gave him an apologetic look. "And that weird numbness after taking a life."
Henry ran his fingers through his hair. "It's hard, but it's just like it sounds. None of us has ever felt a thing. Not with our first kill. Not with the first banishment."
"We're darn robots," George concluded, clenching his hands together on the table.
"No, we're bloody soldiers." William frowned at his own thoughts. Somehow, it all seemed to make more sense than his lack of memories allowed him to decipher. "It's as if that's what WICKED wants. The tattoos called us that, right? We have to be of some use."
"Maybe not." Bea shook her head softly, trying not to bother Leen. "They could just find it amusing. Who knows? We might be the nation's darn favourite show."
"We're one boring show, then." Rowan scoffed. "Let's just talk about something else. At this rate, I might try to blow this whole place up."
Mae gave her a reprimanding look. "Can't you behave for five minutes?"
"No." Rowan pouted.
The subject changed drastically, allowing the group to crack jokes, laugh, and enlighten the mood. William participated, feeling the need for a distraction from his thoughts, which made him be welcomed by Flor's and Mae's proud smiles. It was difficult for him to joke around, but he didn't need to do that, as Henry and Bea took upon themselves to become the comedians of the group. Meanwhile, George and Leen had to keep reminding them to tone it down to not attract any possible lurking Crank outside to the building.
When a clock on the side of the large empty room struck two in the morning, Mae forced everyone to the bedroom. Leen volunteered to keep the first watch, which was quickly shortened to one hour alone. After her, Bea would take from three to four. Then Henry, from four to five. And finally, William, from five to half-past five, when he would wake up the rest to prepare what they needed, find, and leave through the Flat Trans.
The bunk beds were identical to those from the previous location, which meant the few hours they would have of sleep would at least be comfortable. George rushed to the top bunk, trying to get it before William could claim it.
"I actually prefer bottom bunk, mate. No need to rush." William commented with a smirk plastered on his face.
"Better for me. I want you as bunk buddies from now on, Birdie." George said, and lay down on his bed.
"Sure thing." William shrugged, laying down on his own bed and closing his eyes.
Leen turned the light off, and all noises disappeared. His mind became clearer, and his raging thoughts dissipated with his consciousness as he fell asleep.
He didn't remember opening his eyes. All he knew was staring at his surroundings, which were an empty grey room. Nothing but the walls for company. His hands trembled at his sides, making him let go of a metallic object he was carrying. The hit resounded on the walls, like an endless cry for help.
Foolishly, he looked down. A gun lay there, covered in blood. Not surprisingly, his hands were, too. A dark crimson red ran down from his fingers to his wrists. Scared and confused, he ran. Why? Where? He really had no idea. Part of him just wanted to get out of the room and stay far away from the weapon. The other couldn't control his body at all.
"—am." A voice appeared, though not clear enough to let him know what it said. "I — so—. Pl—, for—e me."
He turned around, trying to find the source of the voice, which turned out to be from a shadow on the opposite side of the room. Nothing was visible about them except their eyes; clear blue.
"I'm sorry."
A hand shook William awake, almost prompting him to fall to the floor from the abrupt interruption of his odd dream. Henry smiled, a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing out loud and waking up the rest.
"Yes, yes, very funny," William muttered.
"It is," Henry whispered, nodding along with his statement. "Are you afraid of being alone? I can stay awake with you if you want."
"I'll manage." William rolled his eyes as a joke, putting his boots on before getting up from the bed.
"I like you, Birdie. Keep it up." Henry patted William's shoulder. "We'll be stuck together for WICKED knows how long, so we better get along. Don't you think so?"
"How about you stop calling me Birdie first?" William raised an eyebrow, trying to use a cocky tone, though not being great at it.
Henry raised his hands in the air playfully, acting as if he was afraid. "Alright, just don't stab me, please. My weakness is small knives."
"My God, you need sleep." William chuckled and left the room, sitting alone at the large room table as the dream replayed in his mind.
He couldn't make any sense of it. None whatsoever. Who was the shadow? Why were they apologising? What else had they tried to say? Why did he have a gun and was covered in blood? But, most importantly, and the one that bothered him the most. Was it really a dream?