Jordyn

I stare at the man dressed in black--the man I've only seen in flashbacks and dreams. The lines on his face tell a story of worry and age, crinkling around his eyes and the corners of his mouth. His skin, which may have once been the same shade of white as mine, is marred with freckles and age spots.

Neither one of us say anything. Yet, his eyes run down my frame and devour every visible bump and bruise, from my matted, dreaded hair to my burned, bare legs and filthy feet.

When he makes it back up to my face, his facial expression changes from worry to relief. I watch the muscles unclench themselves, the eyes settle into a calmer position, and the hands slide to rest at his side.

"Jordyn," he whispers, striding across the short distance between us.

My island instinct kicks back in, and I take a shaky step back from the stranger in front of me. No, he's not a stranger. He's my father. That much is obvious in how we look alike. Yet, somehow, I don't know the man standing in front of me.

Thomas hesitates, his arms poised to raise towards me, watching my movement. I take another step back and begin to breathe in short gasps. A hand presses into my shoulder.

Ezra's face appears beside my ear. His blonde hair brushes against the soft skin beneath it.

"He won't hurt you," he whispers softly. "I promise."

"And if he does?" I reply, just as quiet as he was.

"Then, I am right here. Sam and I both have your back, Jordyn."

I look back up at the man in front of me. His eyes are back to that serious state. They hold a world of concern between the lines of brown and gold. I'm the cause of that. He's worried about me. I take a deep breath and nod. Thomas takes that as his cue, and with a return nod, he finishes crossing the distance and wraps his arms around me.

I know I should feel something.

I should be stirred by an ocean of emotions, brought to tears by my father rescuing me from the Hell I've faced, choked up to see the man I had forgotten existed. My knees should be weak, and I ought to feel my heart slamming into my ribcage.

Instead, I just feel arms, heavy and hot, wrapped around my body. My own limbs pull down on my shoulders, and gravity urges me to collapse onto the ground. I am choked by his grip, not emotion. I'm brought to tears by the fact that his hands press into my burns. The hug brings nothing but pain.

I don't know this man.

Thomas lets me go after what feels like the longest minute of my life. He grips both of my shoulders and stares down at me with eyes laced with Earth. I glance at them for a moment and then lower my eyes. His hand grazes my cheek, and I stiffen. Just let him. It'll be over soon.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly.

"Define okay," I manage to get out. That familiar knot is back in my throat, the one that reared its head when I first met the other prisoners.

"It was a stupid question in the first place," he mumbles. "Of course you're not okay. But you're in one piece."

I glance down at myself. Am I? Outwardly, I guess I am. Inwardly? Not so much.

"I'm breathing, I guess," I finally say. "I'm fine."

"Jordyn, I'm--"

Someone shouting cuts him off mid-sentence, and I relax a little. The last thing I need is an apology to add to the weird emotions going through my stomach.

"Ezra!"

A black haired boy weaves through the crowd, carrying what looks like a silver briefcase. I look back at Ezra, whose face has broken out into a massive grin.

"Man, I thought you would be dead! Or that you might not know me," the boy blurts.

"Murano didn't do a complete wipe on me," Ezra says.

"Good." The boy shoves the silver box at Ezra. "Take this crap. It's not my job; I don't want it."

Ezra laughs and straps the gear over his shoulder.

"I've been here for less than five hours. Thanks for having absolutely no confidence in my ability to survive."

"Let's be honest, man. Of the five of us, I would definitely put my money on you dying first."

His eyes dart around the room, hurrying over a very confused Sam and settling on me. He smiles, gives me a nod, and searches the room.

"Where is she?" he asks as his sight falls on Ezra again.

That's when I realize what--or rather who--he's looking for. Sarah.

Ezra rubs the back of his neck, face contorting as he thinks of a way to break the news to his friend.

"She's no longer with us," I say. Ezra looks at me with thankful, wide eyes.

"Do I want to know what happened?" the boy asks. I shake my head. "I trust you. God, I'll miss that brat." He turns back towards Thomas and straightens up. "According to the radar reports, which Ezra has control of now, we have about thirty minutes until Murano arrives. We should start heading back to the heli."

Thomas nods.

"Thanks, Riku."

Riku smiles and turns back to the three of us.

"I know you don't remember me," Riku says to me and Sam. "I can see it in your face. But my name's Riku. I'm the hand-to-hand combat specialist in the group. I'm glad we found you in one piece, Jordyn."

He holds a hand out towards me, that one-sided smile not leaving his face. It's warm enough to soften the nerves I feel building up. Everything about him looks gentle, which confuses me, considering he just said he was a hand-to-hand specialist.

Regardless, I shake his hand. If I can take Neil down, surely I can handle Riku.

"We were friends once," he continues as he lets go of my hand. "I hope we can be again one day."

Unlike my father, he respects the fact that everything in my life has been reset. Maybe the memories will come back, but the chance of them not is just about even with the first far-fetched idea.

"We need to go," Ezra says suddenly, grabbing me by the elbow. Sam snaps his hand away from me, but Ez just rolls his eyes. "Murano's picking up the pace."

Both of us look at Thomas, who simply nods.

"The heli is waiting on the edge, engine ready," he says, giving me one last sad look before turning to his white-clad soldiers. "Move out! We have to get out of here before she gets here. We're outnumbered."

Without even the briefest hesitation, the crowd turns and begins moving back through the door. Thomas looks over his shoulder at Riku.

"Stay with them while I lead from the front. Make sure they don't get left behind."

Riku nods solemnly, and Thomas picks up his pace towards the front of the convoy. A sigh of relief sneaks its way out of my mouth.

"Alright," Riku says, walking. "Let's hurry."

We all nod and fall into a square--Ezra and Riku in the front, Sam and I following behind.

The quick walk back through the tunnels passes in hushed tones. Ezra and Riku whisper to one another, but Sam and I say nothing. He walks with an arm slung over my shoulder for support. I do the best I can to hold him up as we limp along. We pass by the two slain morphs not long after the body of Neil. I can't look at either of them, and so I advert my eyes.

Riku traces one hand along the damp wall, and I find myself watching him. It's not the wall he's holding but a thin piece of clear string. He's following it out. Smart move.

Once we break out into the sunlight, the full weight of The Island's destruction hits me. The tropical scene from before is gone. We're standing dead in the center of a concrete landscape, surrounded by shattered glass and LCD screen from overhead. In the distance, where the sunset might have once been, is nothing but wall and glass, cracked from their entry.

I do a slow circle where I stand, searching for trees and monkeys, blue sky and ocean water. Nothing. Not only are the things I've grown used to gone but everything else is as well. All that's left of the beautiful, poison landscape is a shell.

"Jordy."

Sammy's stern and calm voice brings me back down to Earth. I glance over at him to see him leaning on the doorframe.

"Sorry," I mumble, taking my spot under his arm again.

"No, it's fine," he replies. "I understand the shock. But it was all fake, remember? Illusions created by technology. Everything that existed here was fake."

"Except for us," I mumble, following Riku towards a metal ladder that extends down for the roof.

"Maybe even us." Sam glances up. "I mean, we came in as blank slates. Who are we leaving as?"

I weigh his words for a moment. There's not a doubt in my mind that the two of us are real. Nothing can change that fact.

"We're leaving as survivors," I finally say. "The first known from the prisons."

"You would think I would feel more triumphant then."

"Some battles are not meant to be won," I whisper.

Ezra and Riku have reached the ladder. We're the only four people left on the ground; everyone else has already gone up. Overhead, the black shape of the heli looms like a bird perched precariously on the edge. Surely there's more than one, or we wouldn't all fit.

"Jordyn, Sam, you guys go up first," Riku says. Ezra scowls at him, and he shakes his head. "If that's cool with you, of course. You're the boss."

"I'm not anyone's boss," I mutter, grabbing the first metal rung with my good hand. .

"Well, technically..."

"Riku, drop it," Ezra warns. I glance over my shoulder to see Riku throw up his hands.

"Make up your mind, Ez," he grumbles under his breath, probably assuming I can't hear him. "I either boss her around or I leave her alone."

I sigh and drop back onto the ground.

"I can't climb a ladder with one hand."

The three boys just gape at me. Had no one thought this through? Riku looks at Ezra, who stares back at him blankly. Finally, Ezra opens his mouth to speak.

"I'll climb up and ask--"

"No need," Riku interrupts. He's good at that. He brushes strands of black hair from his ear and presses a finger to a small black square hanging in his earlobe. It was hidden so well before that I hadn't seen it.

"Is that a wireless comm system?" Ezra asks, shock written all over his face. Riku just smirks.

"Thomas? We've got a problem. Jordyn can't climb the ladder with only one hand." There's a brief pause where Riku listens to Thomas respond. "No, sir. I don't think carrying her up is an option. Ezra and I aren't strong enough."

Ezra punches him in the arm, but it doesn't even faze the boy.

"No, Sam's not really in good enough shape, either. Looks like a minor concussion." Riku rubs his forehead and waits. "Got it. Alright. Thank you, sir."

His hand falls back down to his side.

"He wants us to climb on up without her."

"What?!" Sam and Ezra respond in unison. Riku holds a hand up.

"Calm down. You didn't let me finish. After we top off, we're gonna lift her up on the ladder. It's slower, but it'll work. Sam, you're up first."

Sam looks back at me as he hangs from the ladder. It swings freely in the air, but he manages to stay on it. My jaw clenches as he takes the first flew rungs slowly, sure to place each foot in a secure position before lifting the other. I watch his arm muscles pull tight as he ascends out of sight. God, please don't let him fall.

Once he's close enough to the edge, a pair of hands reach over and lift him the rest of the way. My body relaxes.

"Alright. See you at the top," Riku says, nodding as he grabs the ladder and starts climbing. His progress is like lightning compared to Sam's snail speed. He's up and over the ladder within a minute, leaving Ezra and I in his dust.

"Are you going to be okay down here alone?" Ezra asks, holding the ladder with one hand as he readjusts his bag.

"Yeah, it's only for a minute," I say. He reaches out towards me with his free hand and touches my face. His thumb runs along my cheekbone, and his face softens. A strange feeling spreads through my stomach, forcing me to relax.

Yet, the moment--however strange or pleasant--is over just as quickly as it started. Ezra pulls his hand away like I've bitten him.

"See you at the top," he says quickly and then starts climbing.

Like Riku, he's fast, disappearing in less than a minute. That leaves me. I climb back on the first rung and hold on with my good hand wrapped around the side. The ladder holds steady, and I look up.

Riku, Ezra, and a few other Rebels that I don't know have appeared on the edge of the entry hole. With one lurch, they begin to pull the ladder up, forcing me to tighten my grip.

It's in the air that I get a full view of what's left of The Island after the technology crashed. The place isn't nearly as big as I would have thought. It's square, hundreds of feet of dull gray metal and cinder blocks. Beams once stretched from floor to ceiling, but several have fallen in the attack. My mind goes straight back to the earthquake. This is what a real one could do.

Two sets of hands hoist me over the edge, rolling up the ladder as I go. Riku hands it off to a Rebel and then bolts away to the nearest vehicle. Ezra helps me up, silent.

Wait, no, his mouth is moving. He's trying to talk to me. I strain to hear his words, but my face must give away my sudden deafness. Ezra just waves a hand above his head and points to the helicopters behind us.

It's not just one. It's dozens. The whirlwind noise around us must be the blades. I look back at him, and he's tapping his wrist frantically. Time. We need to hurry before we run out of time. I nod, and he grabs my hand, yanking me towards the same vehicle Riku went to.

Inside, I'm handing a hair of earmuff-looking things. Watching Ezra put them on, I do the same, and the roar around us turns to a dull whisper. Now, I hear voices, though. Voices I recognize.

"Everyone here?" Thomas' voice asks. I look around trying to find him. When I do, he's sitting in the cockpit of the heli and looking back at us.

"Yes, sir," Ezra replies, voice clear.

Technology.

"Alright. Hold on."

Each of us find something to hold on to, and the helicopter lurches into the air with a groan. The dozens of others follow.

I made it out alive. 

A/N: I am so sorry for the delay in getting this to you. I was busy nesting. *hides face in shame* On a positive note, my house is clean, and the nursery is almost ready. Haha. I'll try to do better. 

Oh, and the votes came in. Looks like my next project will be the Urban Fantasy! Expect a sneak-peak sometime near the first of May!