Chapter 3

The morning comes much sooner than I expected.

My head turns as I look to the clock. 4:30 a.m. What have I gotten myself in to? I force myself to sit up and swing my legs over the side of my bed. I cradle my head in the palms of my hands, wiping eye boogers from the creases of my eyes.

I try to be as quiet as I can be so I don't wake Ema. Last thing I need is her to beg me not to go. It wouldn't take much to make me stay, if I'm honest.

My hair is a giant rat's nest, matted and gross from a good night's sleep that was cut short. I pull my comb through my curls the best I can before I get dressed. As always, I wear all white. I slide on a white v-neck tee and white pants, a white hair-tie holds my hair back, away from my face. White tennis shoes cover my feet as I creep back over to my bedside and kiss Ema's forehead. Quietly, I near my door and hesitate a moment as I look back at Ema. My hand finds its way to the doorknob and turns it until it creaks open. I slide out and the door creaks once more as I close it. Hurriedly I jog down the stairs.

Darkness surrounds Manhattan, many people still tucked away in bed. Elders didn't start work until 7 a.m. Which made it even better to meet this early. The only obstacle would be to make it to the van without being caught by night-guards or any Jotunn Warriors that prowled the area in search of prey. If I get caught out of my home before curfew, I'd be as good as dead.

I jump over the four steps that lead to our front door. My fingers lift the latch on the gate and soon enough I am out of this place, walking the streets to get to Eli's house. I look down to my wrist watch and see it is 5:10 a.m. There's not a doubt in my mind that Eli won't be pleased with me being tardy.

In another five minutes I see a white van ahead of me that's parked in the middle of Eli's street. I pick up the pace and reach the vehicle in a matter of eight seconds. I give one last look over my shoulder before puffing out my chest. My fingers wrap against the side of the car.

The door slides open as a strong arm grasps my own and tugs me inside the van. The dim lighting in the vehicle reveals the face of a young man that looks vaguely familiar, yet I'm positive I've never met him before in my life.

My heart rattles against my ribcage at the mere sight of him. He has a masculine build, full of muscle. He has shaggy but well-kept blonde hair. His skin is a deep tan, his green eyes peering down at me. The veins in his hands pop as he clenches them shut.

"About time," he breathes. "What's your name?"

I stop staring at him and purse my lips. "Bay," I struggle to keep from stumbling over my words. He's utter perfection. "Bay Zachary."

Only then do I notice he doesn't wear the color white. He wears a deep green shirt, the sleeves hugging his biceps. On his legs rests a pair of black jeans. This means one thing. He isn't from New York. He still looks so familiar to me, but I know for a fact I've never met anyone who wears the color green. I rack my brain as I try to remember which state represents this color.

"Nice to meet you," he replies, lacking an introduction for himself.

This only further proves my point that he is not from New York. His manners are clearly lacking. 

Eli appears to take notice of his lack of introducing himself. He leans back and introduces the young man. "Bay, this is Casper Bunk. He's from Upland, Nebraska."

That makes sense. Green is the color of the Rebellious State. It explains why he's so rude and inconsiderate.

"Ah," I say with lack of emotion to my voice and gesture to him. "Hence his colors."

"He's our guide for the trip," a familiar female voice pipes up from behind me.

I look over my shoulder to see where the voice comes from. I recognize the face immediately as Demetria Lopez. Just my luck. Is it bad I was hoping she wouldn't show up? Or be so late that she was left behind? I smirk at the thought.

"I know the way around like the back of my hand," Casper says coolly as he leans back in the passenger seat.

"Then why don't you drive?" I ask with a hint of sarcasm and sass to my voice. "Since you know your way around so well?"

"God, she's full of many questions isn't she, Henson?" The Nebraskan glares down at me before he looks over at Eli.

Casper appears to be a complete jerk. He's stuck-up, rude and self-absorbed. I don't care if he is utter perfection. He belongs to Nebraska and nowhere else. I half wish he stayed there instead of coming here. The other half of me, however, says I'm crazy and should take advantage of sitting next to a really cute guy.

I avert my gaze as he stares at me, his eyes looking me over. His green eyes are incredibly intense. It feels like they study me for a life time, but in reality they were trained on me for less than two seconds.

"Let me guess," I point my long index finger at him. "You're under-aged?"

Eli stifles a laugh.

Casper narrows his eyes, "I'm nineteen, for God's sake!"

Eli lets loose a chortle before giving up on his attempt to fight back laughter, breaking into full-fledged laugh attack.

Casper gives him a death stare before he returns his attention to me, "And even if I was under-aged, that wouldn't stop me from driving," he growls.

"He's a rebel," Eli snickers.

"Nebraska is known for apostasy," a girl in the back of the van says.

"For what?" Eli and Casper say in unison.

I roll my eyes. "Morons," I murmur under my breath, "It's another word for rebellion. Don't hurt yourself, princess."

"Wow, where'd you pick her up Henson?" The Nebraskan rebel smirks at Eli. "She is ridiculously feisty, aren't you sunshine?" He comments as he jabs a finger my direction and hits me lightly in the chest. My heart does a somersault.

"Can you just shut up?" I growl. "Now, would someone please tell me where it is we are going since Eli won't entrust me with that piece of information?" I blurt, cheeks burning red. I haven't been this irritated in a long time.

Silence steals over the car. All to be heard is Casper chuckling at my outburst.

"She's like a lapdog that thinks she's a Doberman," he smirks and shakes his head, "Well, Bay Zachary," Casper says as he leans forwards and pulls out a duffle bag from underneath his seat. He unzips it in a casual manner. "We are taking a trip outside of the safe boundaries of New York."

He tosses open the cover to the black duffle bag. Inside lay all different types of weapons. All the way from pistols to knives. There is one for all twelve of us in the vehicle. An antsy feeling steals over me as I stare at the bag full of dangerous "toys". Is it natural to feel physically sick when seeing so many weapons at once? At the same time, I feel comfortable around these weapons and I have no idea why. 

"Is that what I think it is?" Demetria stutters.

I share a portion of Demetria's confusion. Perhaps it is more curiosity than confusion on my part. No one in the Pure State has ever seen, yet alone touched a gun. The only weapons ever exposed to us are the guns the Warriors carried.

Casper rolls his eyes into the back of his head, "Of course it is. What are you, stupid?"

His calloused hands grab the barrels of the guns. First he loads it with ammo before he passes them out butt first to each person. The first weapon goes to a small girl who quivers in the back. Her bright ginger hair highlights her blue eyes beautifully and accentuates her pale skin . She wears all white, just like the rest of us do. Everyone except Casper is clothed in white.

"Where did you get those?" The little girl queries.

He puffs his cheeks full of air, breathing out slowly through his nose, "Doesn't matter. Look, when I say we are leaving the safe zone of The Pure State, I mean it. We are leaving New York behind."

"So we are leaving behind all we've ever known?" I raise my eyebrows at him as he thrusts a gun and a knife towards me. I flinch.

I have never seen a weapon up close. Chills run down my spine as I stare at the weapons being handed to me. The mere thought of holding one without knowing how to operate it almost scares me. I reach out and grab both weapons from him. The weapons both feel familiar in my hand, yet I don't know how. It's like I know how to operate them, I know every little secret these weapons have. How is that possible?

Casper stares at me, "Hence the guns and the knives," he answers and returns to handing out the weapons to the others. "You know," The Nebraskan looks back at me, "There is more to the world than just New York, right? There is more than this sick and twisted society that we live in. Who are we really? What was life like before World War III? Don't you ever wonder, Bay Zachary? Don't any of you ever wonder? For once you could abandon the purity of your minds and just consider what is outside your own state!"

The corner of Eli's mouth turns up into a sheepish smirk. I count the seconds as I ponder what to say, how to reply. When I don't respond after fifteen seconds, Casper calls me out.

"Uh, what are you doing, Zachary?" Casper says with brows raised.

My eyes widen as I realize he speaks to me, "Oh. I--I, Um," I stammer, unable to form a coherent sentence. No one other than my family has ever called me out on my bad habit.

I try to find words to cover up my flaw, but Eli beats me to it.

"She counts the seconds," Eli says with a shrug.

I stare at him, shocked. I truly didn't expect him to remember that. The last time I spoke of it with him was the first time I ever told anyone other than my family about my 'sickness.' We were both seven at the time. I told him that I didn't like the time in between a conversation. I hated—and I still hate—silence. So I count the time in between to calm myself. I stopped with the counting of seconds at age thirteen before it started up again. I tried too hard to conquer the habit but I failed, as I often do. Elijah Henson is the only person outside of family that knows about this habit, that is, until now.

I honestly did not want to admit my shtick to a van-full of people I just met ten minutes ago, but it's too late now. What'sdone is done and what's said is said. My cheeks flush with heat as I stare in fear at the Nebraskan.

"That's a bit of a sickness, don't you think?" Casper comments.

I don't know whether he speaks to Eli or myself, but I feel offended. My whole life I've heard the phrase from my mother, from Eli at one point in time, and now the boy I just met?

"Just shut up!" I shout. "I grow tired of hearing my own imperfections pointed out to me as if I don't know they exist! Yes, I know it's a sickness, a bad habit, but it's one I can't seem to shake! I know just what my flaws are and don't need to be reminded of them constantly. Even more so by some arrogant fool I just met!"

As if he's completely innocent in the situation, Casper raises his hands. Funny how he thinks the question is harmless. Maybe to him it is, but to me it's like getting a dagger to the chest. It's not a harmless question. Not in the slightest. At least not to me, it isn't.

I puff my cheeks up with air before huffing with utmost annoyance. "What I was going to say before you rudely interrupted me."

"Rudely? You were the one counting seconds," he scoffs. "But what do I know? I'm just some arrogant fool you just met," he chuckles, smirking.

I don't even acknowledge his comment as I continue, "Aren't you ever afraid? Afraid of the vengeance that has, and will continue, to build up inside of you? Does it not make you nervous for your life? For your fate, even? No good can come from revenge, Casper Bunk. And I'd like to think you're smart enough to know that," I narrow my eyes at him at I slide the gun and knife in the back of my pants. "If this trip is some sick revenge trip, then you can count me out."

"Whether or not this is revenge doesn't matter! Live a little. No harm can come from that." Casper says defensively,  "Set aside everything you've ever known and open your mind to what you don't know. Live, Bay. It's as simple as that. You no longer have to have a pure mindset. You can be your own person on this trip," he sits back once more. "Besides, I don't fear my fate. I welcome death with open arms! I embrace it. I have nothing to lose," his muscles tense up as he speaks. He's hiding something but I don't know what.

"I greet death like an old friend," Casper continues on. "When you said that Nebraska is known for its rebellion, its retaliation, it's--apostasy, you're right. I won't lie about Nebraska. The place was a hell-hole," he pauses as his eyes meet my own.

Something is off about him. We're just acquainted, yet somehow I can tell he's lying. I don't know what he's lying about but I'm sure I'll figure it out soon enough. Casper remains quiet for seventeen long seconds of silence. When he talks, I'm startled by his words.

"You know what you said about revenge, Bay?" He averts his gaze. "You're right. This is my form of revenge. Really and truly, it's how I want to deal with things. If I'm going to die, I want to die knowing that I did something about it."

"About what?" I ask.

"Nebraska."

"What about it?" Demetria speaks up.

He pauses for a grand total of eleven seconds, "It was recently destroyed by the Jotunn Warriors."

My eyes open wide. I can't find words to say. Our news is far behind and can't seem to keep up with the amount of destruction going on around the world. For example, they announced the destruction of South Carolina a week ago. Judging by the sickening footage of dead bodies in the rubble, I can assume that it was destroyed at least three weeks ago. If not more.

"What?" I choke out after a twenty-nine second pause.

Hushed voices fill the van. Fear becomes apparent as it fills the atmosphere of the vehicle. I return to counting the seconds until Casper speaks. Fifteen seconds before he shushes us all back to a stunned silence.

"I survived by the skin of my teeth, barely escaped the invasion," he slides the last, remaining gun in his back pocket.

I ponder this over. What would I do if I was in that situation? Surely Casper has a family. Had a family? Would I just up and leave mine, or stay and meet my fate? No state was safe forever.

"I," he stumbles over his words. "That's not all you need to know."

"What else is there to say?" I murmur as my fingers preen through my hair. I feel nauseous. All that remains are four states.

New York, Maine, Pennsylvania, and Vermont. The lower states were all wiped out in the very beginning.

"Just remember, no matter what happens or what I say, you all made a promise to go through with this. You all agreed to come on this trip."

"Casper," Eli stares at him with an uneasy look across his face.

"Just remember that, okay?" Casper says with a sharp tone.

"What aren't you telling us?" Demetria looks between me and him.

Casper raises both his hands. At this gesture all the whispers fall quiet. His green eyes lock onto mine as he bites his lower lip between his teeth. There is a thirteen second pause before he speaks.

"New York is the next state to be eliminated."