I pull myself up to the top of the statue’s head. The ad screens are babbling on, many floors below me in incoherent whispers by proximity. The thin skull of the structure cracks under my wobbly feet. Blinded by the darkness, I make a leap of faith off of the crumbling hollow head of Lord Christ Long Cock.
Earth–US–New State–Day 38/365
My ankles catch the guardrail I aimed to grab onto. I spin in mid-air and hit the hard floor on the other side as soon as an alarm sounds. Red eyes flash down the hall and grow wider. The sound of heavy boots drum closer. I hear a panic in the stranger’s voice.
“Tank! Call Tank! Tank, are you okay? They fell on you? Oh my God! I’m calling it in.”
The man above me looks in horror at the headless statue. His booted toes are centimeters away from my face. I scurry low as he connects his visor’s microphone to every speaker in the building.
“Red alert! We are under attack! Rebel Saint is here! We need everyone up and searching. Full scanners on! Wake up! This is not a drill!”
The darkness turns bright. I scream and he hears it. I run for my life as he struggles to type in something on the side of his visor. In my blurry sight, I see doors open and guards exit. They all type in a code on the sides of their visors. I lay flat on the wall between two open doors. The initial guard runs forward, alerting the others, “I heard them scream! They’re on this floor.”
The woman to my right groans in pain as her visor tightens. The man to my left breathes a sigh of relief as he follows the panicked guard away from me. I duck into the left room as soon as the groaning woman looks my way. The doors slide closed. I hear the boot-song growing quiet outside.
My eyes struggle to adjust to this new level of light. It isn’t blinding white razors like the lights on out in the hall, but not the pitchblack cave of the world without visor vision. I blink. I blink again. I close my eyes and count to ten.
Opening my lids back up, I see a bed with a round window. On the nightstand is a steak, freshly dispensed from a steak chute installed in the wall. The smell is unbearingly beautiful and treacherous. I wish I had a microbe salad with me instead of it dried and caked on my dusty hands. I’m stuck with this torture.
I avert my eyes from the steaming hunk of meat. The visor charging station sits alone without a living chair. I guess these guards aren’t allowed to do much else during their free time but sleep and eat. There’s nothing else to look at in the room and my nostrils continue to inhale the smell. My stomach howls as I lean in for a closer look at the steak.
I cut off a piece with a nearby knife and fork and wait for the inevitable shock when I stick it in my mouth. Nothing happens. I roll my eyes. It tastes amazing. I chew, Nothing shocks me. I laugh between rapid bites, thinking about how stupid I was moments ago. “We shall be free,” I repeat between swallows. “We shall be free!”
As I take my last bite, boots are heard outside again. Did they hear me? I back away from the empty plate and the closed door. The back of my legs touch the soft mattress behind me. As the boots grow quiet again, I ease my sore body into the comfortable bunk.
I didn’t feel it until now due to adrenaline, but my arms are throbbing from the climb. My whole body feels like dying except my satisfied stomach. Despite my worry of being caught by the pursuing guards in the hallway, I can’t help but close my eyes and let go. A day without sleep full of nonstop action and work pull my still frame into the sinking foam of the mattress. The throbbing all over stops as I fall fully into a deep needed sleep.