Year E3029

Ocea

Fin eyed me as he tightened his grip on Becca. He watched as I disappeared into the kitchen area. A blue safforian server rushed by me with her dress ripped around the shoulder. Her expression told me to stop, but Wyatt was probably in the middle of a disaster.

Rounding a corner, I see Wyatt pinned against the wall with two Men Of Suits fishing in his pockets. They pulled out a pocket blade, throwing it behind them without looking. The round gold ball rolled to me as I walked forward, picking it up. My fingers gripped the metal, pushing the button.

"Hey, someone in the dining area is attacking people!" I yelled, causing all three of them to look at me.

They loosened their grip on Wyatt, lowering his feet to the ground. With a wink at Wyatt, I bowled the pocket blade and ran. I kicked a table to the side, ducking behind it. Wyatt jumped over, landing next to me as the weapon exploded.

Loud thuds shook the table for a split second as the sharp point of a knife broke through the table, inches from Wyatt's eye.

He widened his expression, leaning away. "Where have you been?"

"You know, saving your life," I replied, peeking over the wood board. Small throwing knives stuck out of the table, scattering around the kitchen area.

A scream escaped one of the stiff's mouths. "You bitch!" He eyed me, pulling a knife from his shoulder, then from his hand. "You will pay for that."

The other MOS stepped out from a closet with his gun, aiming it at us. "Don't move."

Wyatt put his hands in the air immediately while I rolled my eyes. He glanced at me as he wiggled his fingers, then closed them to a fist.

"Would you be a kind sir and dance with me?" I asked Wyatt.

"Only if you let me lead," he replied, making both stiffs step forward.

"Shut up," the one with the gun said. "Get on your knees."

I smirked at the guy holding his shoulder. Blood pooled around his tight fingers as he mumbled stuff under his breath. His eyes met mine while he glared.

"The bitch is mine," he said, stepping forward.

Wyatt gripped my hips as I quickly placed my hands on his shoulders. He lifted me while I kicked backward, nailing the guy in the face. The MOS stumbled, grunting out in pain.

"To the left," Wyatt said as I kicked again but hit nothing. "My left, your right."

"Ugh," I let out, rolling my eyes. I spun around, slapping the gun from the guy.

"Bad, nasty dog," I said before Wyatt slugged him, knocking him out cold.

Wyatt grabbed my arm, pulling me past two servers hiding in a corner. We ran to the back door, opening it up into an alleyway. The dark wind blew around, freezing my bare legs. My feet touched the rock road, pricking my skin with pain.

"Where are you, Dylan?" Wyatt asked. He looked at me, pointing down the way.

I watched the clear-pink shirt stretched on his back while we ran alongside an ivy fence. He stopped when a road crossing came into view. He cupped the earpiece with his palm.

"Stop. You are all talking at once," Wyatt said, stretching and causing his shirt to rip in the armpits.

I giggled to myself, hiding my smile from him. His eyes glared my way.

"This shirt is stupid." His expression changed to annoyance.

The getaway van drove up fast beside us as Jackson opened the doors. I jumped into the rig with Wyatt. Jackson just about closed the door, but Fin stuck his arm into the opening, throwing Becca onto the floor.

"Fin!" Wyatt yelled. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Fin jumped in, shutting the door. "I had no choice." He pointed at the girl. "She was my only way out without being shot."

"Prick," Becca said, spitting at his feet.

"We can't take her," Wyatt added while the car took off, speeding down the road.

Dylan looked over his shoulder, straight-smiling at us. "Sorry, no slowing down. We will take her to her house and throw her out."

"No," Becca said. "I know I'm chipped, but even as a kid, I didn't listen to it." We looked at her as she bobbed between all our faces. Her expression lightened. "When they scanned my brain, I had too much activity."

"That's what a spy would say working with the Men Of Suits," Fin said.

Wyatt pushed him to the side. "We have looked into her file. She's not a spy. She got assigned to reproduction and low class because of her brain activity."

Becca pointed at Wyatt in agreement. "See."

Fin huffed out, crossing his arms over his chest. His blue eyes glanced at me quickly, then back at Becca.

"How much activity did her brain have?" I asked Wyatt, not diving as deep into her file.

"She doesn't have memories, if that is what you are asking," he said, but paused and looked at her. "Do you remember before being chipped?"

She sat up straighter. "No." Her eyes kept on Wyatt. "Just like everyone else, I woke up one day and knew my life would be to work a day-to-day job and meet my future husband to have babies for the Men Of Suits to take. But even as the chip controlled me, I knew I didn't want this."

I sat back deeper into the seat. "Little Miss Perfect will be in trouble now with the stiffs, anyway. They will think she is working with us even if she isn't." I pointed at her. "With the added brain activity, who knows what they will think of her?"

Wyatt smiled widely at me. "You thinking what I am thinking?"

"Yep," I replied while Fin looked at us, confused.

"Camping trip," Wyatt, Dylan, and I said simultaneously.

A loud thud on the window behind us had Dylan slamming on the brakes. Stopper opened the door, out of breath. "Even with their tracking devices, the MOS would never follow us to Camp Corn Pops."

"We need to change that name," Dylan added.

Stop laughed out, waving for Thomas to join us in the rig. "Nope, never."

I tapped Becca on the shoulder as Stopper grabbed Fin from the vehicle. "So, are you in or not?" I asked her, as Stopper and Fin argued outside.

She glanced at Wyatt, then back at me. "Can you get the chip removed?"

Thomas perked up, hoping I would give her a hopeful answer. I grabbed my hair, pulling at it with nerves.

"I don't know." Glancing outside, I didn't want to make eye contact with them. "You two will live at the camp we made as kids until we figure it out."

Wyatt patted me on the back. "We have to get going. Stopper and I are going back to the bunker for supplies and dropping off the douchebag. I will tell my dad about everything and how this mission was a setup."

"Yeah, there might be a mole in the Saviors," Jackson added. "Also, I'm going with you." He jumped into the darkness outside of the car. "I've already told Dylan. I am never going back to Camp Corn Pops again."

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," Stop said, squeezing Jackson's shoulders.

Wyatt and I looked at each other with uneasy expressions. We were both thinking the same thing. Wyatt made an awkward sound, showing he agreed with Jackson.

"Okay, it is time to move," Dylan said from the driver's seat. "Someone had reported us," he said, pointing at his screen. "The Men Of Suits will be on their way."

Wyatt glanced at Becca. "We know lover boy is staying. What about you?"

"Yes," she replied, putting her seat belt on quickly. "My other option is to go back, and they force me to marry a lowlife and have his babies." Her eyes looked at Thomas. "No offense."

Thomas shrugged his shoulders. "My full-time job at the convenience store isn't popular with the ladies."

"Okay, get out." Dylan was leaning over the seat, pushing at Wyatt. "Get, get, get."

Wyatt put his arms in the air, then shut the door.

I climbed to the front seat, as most of the ride to the other side of town was silent.

"Now that we have—" Dylan said, pointing to the back. "Others. We should figure out how to get those chips out before anything else."

"I agree," I replied, glancing back to see Thomas looking out the window. He had his head leaning against the glass with his hand in his curly hair. His eyes barely stayed open, blinking heavily.

My eyes glided over to Becca. She was already watching me. Her expressionless face lightened up when our eyes met. Her slight smile told me she was getting tired as well.

I turned back around, sitting up straight. Looking out the front window, I could see the buildings getting smaller, telling me we were almost to the drop-off for the vehicle.

"What if we never figure it out?" I asked Dylan.

He laughed, shaking his head a little. "Ocea, the one thing I have learned from being with the Saviors is that we always find a way." He pulled over to the side. "We need to find the origin point of the chips."

Dylan hopped out into the cold air as the rest of us followed. He went to the back, opening up the underbed. Dylan grabbed a backpack, throwing it at me, then grabbed the second one, putting it on his back.

"What's in the bags?" Thomas asked.

"Mostly survival equipment," I replied as he took it from me, telling me he wanted to carry it.

Dylan grabbed a glow buzz, shaking it until the insect lit up the dark a bright yellow. He set it on his shoulder as the bug bit down on his shirt, ready for an adventure.

"Is there any more in there?" Becca asked him, hoping to have light for herself.

Dylan smiled at her. "Of course." He handed each of us a glow buzz.

Becca shook hers into a blue one while Thomas held a green one. The little bug wiggled in my hand, making me look down at it. Its wings fluttered, stretching out of sleep. The buzz chirped into my ears, reminding me of the family of glow buzz my dad stole from the neighbors so Thomas and I could have a light show.

I looked up at Thomas as he let his bug crawl around his hand before placing it on the front collar of his shirt. The green light shined onto his jawline, lighting up his smile.

I shook mine as purple lit around my hand. The insect flew to the dress material around my breast, hooking on.

"Why do you need one?" Becca asked me. "Aren't you a safforian?"

Dylan handed Becca a jacket and hat. "She doesn't use her fire," he answered for me.

She put the clothes on, confused by what Dylan said. "I know. Men Of Suits banned safforian fire, but you guys are Saviors, so why?" She kept talking as her mind wandered. "Even the chipped break that rule."

"I haven't used it since they took over," I lied to her. "Personal reasons."

Becca wanted to know more, but she shrugged her shoulders. "Okay," she said, letting it go.

Dylan handed me a jacket and warm hat, biting his cheeks. His eyes looked down at my bare feet. "I think we only have aquapads," he said, fishing for them.

Once found, he handed me the awkward shoes that form fit around my feet perfectly. The soles squashed around my toes, causing me to tip-toe weirdly before getting used to them.

"We better get going. We have a long walk in the dark," Dylan said, leading the way between two buildings.

The orange fence cast two shadows by the moons while we crept to it. With my fingers intertwined with the metal fence, I climbed smoothly to the other side and landed safely on the ground. Dylan helped Becca up while I held my hands near her rear to guide her down.

Thomas jumped from the top, stumbling forward with his palms in the dirt. Dylan laughed, hopping and landing next to him perfectly. He patted Thomas on the back, helping him stand straight up.

"How far is Camp—" Becca looked at me. "Wheat Jump?" She questioned the name.

"Camp Corn Pops is deep within the middle of the forbidden forest," I replied, while a tree branch whipped Thomas in the head, playing with his ear.

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