Year E3029

Ocea

I followed Wyatt into the video surveillance room. This space was floor-to-ceiling full of screens that wiretap into the cameras around the City of Rise. We could see almost anything the stiffs were doing. A few screens were following certain members while others watched our group. The white noise of static buzzed in my ears as soon as we entered the room.

Everyone had their heads on the computer at their desk as we walked by. An older woman with orange hair glanced at us while she drank from her mud turtle cup. Her eyes connected with mine, and a slight smile formed on her lips. She straightened, tilting her head as she watched us enter the blackout room.

Stopper closed the door behind him, clicking on the lights. Heads popped up from the few single desks in the area, then went back to investigating the camera views on their computers.

The cameras were our only way of staying one step ahead of the MOS, using their own devices against them. We may have taken their live stream, but in the end, we were getting nowhere without knowing what was in their headquarters. Until now, that was.

"Here's the map," Wyatt said, handing over a large piece of paper folded up small. "Paper and all." He glanced at the screen his dad typed at. "Weird. Haven't seen paper in a while."

"Perfect," Wyatt's dad, Chief Niven, said.

Chester Niven was the first Savior I trusted, given this rebel group had a lot of screws loose. Wyatt looked almost identical to his dad, except Chester had a large beard that covered most of his face. Both their bald heads shined a tint of blue as the computers reflected in them. Chester shifted to the left at the same time Wyatt did, mimicking each other without meaning to.

Chester opened the map and looked at a younger guy typing on a keyboard. "Here, Johnson, put this in the safe until we analyze it."

Chester stood up, handing the map over, and then eyed us down. "Now, why do I have the peanut gallery in my office?"

"Dad, this isn't your office," Wyatt responded.

As I headed to the large screen, I noticed cameras following a person in a black trench coat going down a shadowy street with a suitcase.

"Well, this might as well be my office." Chester huffed out. "Ever since I hurt my knee."

Stopper's laughter caused me to glance over at Dylan and him giggling at something. They were leaning over a screen at a desk, messing with a keyboard. Slowly, I walked to them, peeking around their bodies. I closed my eyes quickly when I saw a female safforian stripping off her clothes. With my eyes averted, I leaned in, clicking the screen off. Stopper glared at me while Dylan laughed it off. I turned toward Chester.

"Okay, enough with the bullshit," I said, walking up to the primary controls for the big screen.

I typed out my location and time when I arrived at the convenience store earlier today. The guys looked at the big screen, watching me park my bike and walk into the store.

"By the way, my horse will blow up one day. That's why I left it there," I said to Wyatt.

Wyatt waved my statement off while watching the screen. "It's okay. We will pick it up tomorrow."

A little while later, the bomb went off, and you could see me stepping outside in the back alleyway. Thomas grabbed my arm. I flipped him over and stepped on his torso. Watching it all back showed me how much of a rebel Thomas was. I leaned over the computer, pausing the camera.

I stepped around the controls toward Chester. "Okay, this is Thomas, a childhood friend I used to know."

Chester scratched his beard. "And we care why?"

I smirked at him, feeling he set me up for the best punch line. "You see—" I said, walking back and pushing play so they could see Thomas chasing me. "He remembered me."

Chester stepped closer to the screen. "What? Is he chipped?"

Dylan chimed in. "That's what Wyatt asked, too."

While I watched myself jump the wood fence. "Yes, chipped ten years ago."

Chester focused more on the screen, observing Thomas trip and fall face-first into the wood fence. Stopper and Wyatt laughed, while Dylan covered his face, shaking his head. Slowly, Thomas stood up, pulling himself over the barrier.

Stopper pointed at Thomas. "You want him to join our team?"

I glared at Stopper. "No."

"Okay, because he's pretty clumsy," Stop added to his input.

"I want him to join the Saviors," I said, causing Stopper's and Wyatt's mouths to drop open. We have never let a chipped person join our group, given we don't know how to remove the device from their arm, and they are a beacon for the stiffs.

Chester hummed in approval, then looked back at the screen. Thomas was now chasing me down an alley. He stumbled forward but caught himself before actually falling. Chester walked up to the screen, tapping it a few times to get it to pause. He clicked on Thomas's face, causing a new screen to hover in midair with information about him. There was a large picture of him smiling at someone behind the camera. I stepped closer, looking at his deep brown eyes, remembering our past.

"Damn, he is hot," Dylan said, interrupting my thought process.

Wyatt was reading the screen. "I don't know about this, Ocea," he said, looking over at me. "You don't know the guy anymore. Plus, how do we avoid the fact that the Men Of Suits can track him?"

"Exactly!" Stopper yelled.

"Unless we use him like we use the junkyard family. They are all chipped but still help support the Saviors," Wyatt whispered, talking to himself.

Stopper waved his arms in the air like a baffling person. "Please, he doesn't know his left from his right."

I stepped closer to Stopper. "Oh, shut up, Stop. From what I remember, you didn't know your left from right when we first met back in the day!" I yelled.

"I was a kid!" His eyes widened enough to see all the whites in them. "This brings me to my point. You knew him as a kid. Doesn't mean he's the same person anymore."

"You are already judging him as a stiff," I replied.

"Fucking shit hole!" Stop yelled in frustration.

"What does that even mean?!" I yelled back.

"I don't know!" Stop's voice echoed around the room as he shook his head with a wide smile.

Dylan clicked the screen where it showed Thomas's address. "We could spy on him for a few days before we decide."

"I'll do it," Wyatt said fast.

"What? No," I said quickly, wanting to be the one to spy on Thomas.

"Why no?" Wyatt asked, making me freeze.

Stopper spit-laughed. "Oh, we see now. Ocea wants to get closer to Mr. Dreamy," he said, pointing up at the screen.

Dylan shrugged his shoulders. "I don't blame her."

I closed my eyes, brushing my fingers through my hair. "Okay, okay, stop," I said, irritated by all three guys.

"Okay," Chester said, making all eyes on him.

I tilted my head, stepping closer to him. "Okay, to what exactly?"

Chester clicked on the information about Thomas and then pointed over to the door. "I'm sending everything we have about Thomas Gessa." He turned the screen back to the man they were stalking when we walked in. "Ocea will be the head of this, but I want all of you to help her. The bunker is off limits to Thomas until we know how to remove his chip."

"What?" Wyatt asked his dad.

"Yes, now out of my office," Chester said, sitting at the desk.

Dylan and Stopper left as Wyatt and I followed behind them. Before Wyatt reached the door, Chester spoke to us. "Don't forget, Wyatt, bring back Ocea's bike tomorrow."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Of course."

The guys and I headed to our rooms. The bunker was an underground bomb shelter. There was a full cafeteria, rooms, bathrooms, and showers. Wyatt's favorite place was the gym, while Stoppers was the girl's locker room. We usually find Dylan in the library, but since his breakup, he worked out with Wyatt more often.

The leaders split the dorms in the bunk up with what we did for the Saviors. So that meant my room was next to Wyatt's, while Dylan's and Stopper's were down the hallway.

We walked by a couple of workers in our hall as they operated on the fourth entry into the bunker. There were three entrances, including the sewer hatch we crawled out of earlier today. Another was on the other side, large enough for cars to use a shaft to get down, even though we never used it for vehicles. We rarely used the third hatch, which hid in the woods and beneath a cave. It required diving underwater to a lip that opened up into another cave.

"You guys almost done with the door?" Dylan asked the men working.

The guy shrugged his shoulders. "We've hit a few snags, so I guess we will see." His bright orange eyes looked over at me as his orange hair fell into his face. "Hey, Ocea."

I froze, confused because I wasn't sure who this guy was. "Hey—" I pointed at him awkwardly. "You."

The man stepped forward with his hand out. "Sorry, I'm Java," he said, shaking my hand. "I know we haven't met before, but I was wondering—"

I pulled my hand away, waving it around, interrupting him like the bitch I was at heart. "I'd eat you alive, little bunny," I said, smirking at him.

His mouth dropped open as I heard the guys laugh. I walked in reverse away from him. "Bye-bye," I said, jogging just a few feet and opening my door, shutting Stopper, Dylan, and Wyatt in the hallway.

They pounded on the door. "Hey!" Stop yelled.

"Go away!" I yelled back.

I could hear them mumbling on the other side as I placed my ear on the door. "I'll be here tomorrow at sunrise," Wyatt said. "Also, Dylan and Stop will do some research on Thomas."

I walked away from the door. "Okay!" I yelled.

Jumping tummy-first onto my bed, I cuddled up to my pillow. I closed my eyes to see Thomas's brown ones beaming back at me. I could picture him perfectly in my head. He tattooed both of his arms up his sleeve. I was eager to see how far they go. Would they stop at the shoulders or go to his back? To his abs?

Will Thomas fully remember me one day? Could he join the Saviors without having problems? Who is Thomas now?

The ding of my laptop had me looking over at my desk. With a huff, I stood up, walking to it. I pulled my purple hair back into a ponytail as I looked over the files sent to me about Thomas. He lived close to the store he worked for, making things more convenient. I strolled down the screen, seeing the MOS flagged him for being the next in line of men to be assigned a wife soon.

I clicked on the green file to see a blonde girl frowning at the camera. She didn't look happy with the person taking her picture. Becca Carson would be Thomas's assigned wife if we didn't take him from the City of Rise soon. I felt jealousy build up in my stomach as I looked over her perfect pictures, her paper white teeth, blonde, straight hair, and eyes that matched the sky. She had zero scars and zero flaws. Maybe he would want to stay chipped so he would get to marry her?

"Crap!" I yelled, slamming my laptop shut.

I needed to get some sleep if Wyatt was going to be at my door at sunrise. I knew my dreams would be of Becca, the bitch, marrying the man of my childhood.

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