I didn’t sleep well that night and fell asleep in class multiple times, which Mr. Daniels wasn’t too happy with. I spent the majority of the afternoon watching an approaching storm through the classroom window, ignoring whatever he was teaching on the holographic board at the front of the room.

I knew it was nearing afternoon when a black cloak showed up in front of the school. Still, the siren announcing the end of the school day surprised me, almost knocking me out of my chair with how fast I bolted upright.

Get ahold of yourself, Mason. It’s a person wearing a cloak, holding a business card. It’s not scary.

Skylar was at my side again. Her friends came with her this time, planning to walk next to me on the way past the figures. Most had no other siblings, and if they did, they were younger than me, so they would often join us when leaving the school.

Skylar kept ahold of my arm, her friends tailing behind as we followed the sidewalk through the grassy courtyard, toward the iron archway that rose above the exit. I puffed out my chest a little, determined not to be scared by someone who wouldn’t even show their face. I was just under six feet tall and able to see over the heads of some of the younger teenagers, which I used to scout ahead.

There was only one black cloak waiting by the gate, and it seemed rather uninterested in the students passing it, staring at the ground rather than those who walked by. Still, most steered clear, scooting over to the far side of the sidewalk.

Skylar pulled on my arm, coaxing me to follow suit, but I’d made up my mind.

I am no longer scared.

I kept on a straight path.

I was ten feet away when it turned to look at me. This time, there was a face under the hood. Well, not a whole one. Two beady, yellow, glowing eyes floated where the rest of the face should’ve been, and they bore straight through me. I somehow choked on the air in my lungs.

I am officially terrified.

The world around me seemed to freeze in an instant. I felt like I was prey to the figure, unable to move as it looked me over. The cloak’s arm extended, a gloved hand holding a black card between its index and middle fingers.

I dared to look away from the eyes to read the card. White print contrasted with the rest of its black surface.

10/14/2056.

That’s tomorrow.

301 Gravel Drive.

The address under the date was one I didn’t recognize. I re-met the cloak’s eyes as the card moved closer toward me.

Skylar had a death grip on my forearm, her panicked breathing doing nothing to calm my own. Her friends left us behind, rushing past to the far side. I kept my hands glued to my side as I kept shuffling, refusing to reach and grab the card. The yellow eyes continued to track me as I evened with the black figure.

It’s a mask, I told myself. It has to be.

I waited for the figure to say something, but it was silent. I think everyone had stopped to watch the exchange, to see if I would take the card. I heard a “Don’t do it” from someone as others whispered to those around them.

It wasn’t until I was twenty feet past the cloak before I realized I hadn’t been breathing. I sucked in air, panting. Yellow eyes continued to stare at me, the card still in their fingers, inviting me to come back and grab it.

I forced myself to turn away, adjusting my grip on Skylar. I practically dragged her down the street, my spine tingling as I felt the icy gaze of the hood on my back. We kept the same pace for the entire way home, the crisp leaves on the street crunching under our feet, sounding like cannon booms.

“Mom!” I called as we entered the house. I didn’t get a response. I sent Skylar to her room as soon as I’d shut and locked the front door, telling her to find a place to hide while I made sure nobody followed us. In only slight panic, I searched the house for a weapon. I didn’t look long, settling on a knife from the kitchen.

I set it on the windowsill, pulling the curtains just wide enough to see out. I sat still, holding my breath every time someone walked past the house. Most people were still at their jobs, so I mostly saw younger kids at play passing by.

I finally felt that we were safe twenty minutes later. I took the knife back to the kitchen but left it on the counter so it was easily accessible. No, it wasn’t paranoia; it was preparedness. I called out to Skylar that it was okay for her to come out and looked at a piece of paper with my mom’s handwriting on it that also sat on the counter.

Have to go in early, Dad should be home normal time. See you two tomorrow.

Under it was a part addressed to me.

Mason – Finish your homework, go to bed at a reasonable hour, and for your father’s hairline’s sake, get to school on time. She ended it with a winky face; we were both aware of where I got my personality.

A flashing light on the dining room table caught my attention. It was the notification light on our family's holotab. Each family had been given one after the war, but many had sold or traded theirs for food once supplies ran low. The tablet itself was the size of a dinner plate. They made smaller ones for personal use, but those were far too expensive for us.

I motioned for the screen to appear, then tapped on a picture of myself to log into it, the name “Macy” below it. Why I allowed Skylar to change it, I’ll never know. Hers and my profiles didn’t have passwords to sign in like my parent’s accounts did. I guess we had nothing to hide.

An icon flashed in the corner of the screen, telling me I had a new message. I selected it, reading the text that appeared.

Macy has one new message.

Underneath was the name.

Donovan Lake.

I tapped on the message notification. My dad appeared, a bank of turned off computer monitors behind him. He was an engineer for the city, where he worked on redesigning some of the older buildings and building new ones. This, combined with my mother’s skills, is why they were chosen to live in the city before the war started.

“Hey, kid, we had an emergency here at work, and I’m being forced to help, so I’m going to be stuck here for a while,” he started. His short brown hair was brushed neatly to one side. “Your mother messaged me, saying she had to go in early. I told my boss, but he doesn’t seem to care, which I guess makes you the man of the house tonight. I know you’re capable, Mason. I’m hoping to be home before morning, but if I’m not, I need you to make sure your sister is awake and gets to school. I’ll see you when I get home.”

The message disconnected, the notification disappearing. I set the tablet back down and went to my room. I must’ve still been on edge from the encounter with the black figure, because I grabbed my homework from my bag and laid it out on my desk. I stared at it for ten minutes, answering only a question or two. It was math, and my brain was more focused on things other than trying to solve for x.

After another few minutes, I put it away entirely, heading back to the kitchen to start dinner. Skylar was out now, sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter and playing a game on the holotab.

“Mom and Dad won’t be home for dinner tonight. What do you want to eat?”

She looked up from her tablet, smiling.

“Sky nachos?” I asked.

She nodded. It was a common thing to have when our parents were gone. They were essentially just nachos loaded with whatever we could find in the pantry, but they were her favorite.

I found a few items and placed them on the counter.

“Don’t forget the cheese!” Skylar called out.

“Yeah, yeah,” I answered, moving to the refrigerator. Just as I opened it, there was a crash from the front door, echoing through the kitchen. I shut the fridge, peeking down the main hallway. Skylar jumped up from her seat, moving to be behind me. I crept forward, motioning for her to stay put in the kitchen.

My heart thumped in my ears as I neared the door. It was cracked open, literally. The latch had been smashed in, now hung by its displaced screws. The door was jarred open a few inches, creaking as the wind tried to blow it open.

I crept to within five feet when my ears picked up a new sound: Shuffling footsteps, heading right for the doorway. I backpedaled, but not fast enough.

The door blasted open, slamming against its hinges on the wall. Men rushed through the open doorway, pushing into the house. I tripped over my own feet, smacking my head on the floor. Not that it would’ve mattered. One of them was on top of me, his knee planted on my chest, making it hard to breathe. My head was spinning, but I looked at him, only just now registering the fact that he was holding a flexorpulse rifle, the hum of which I could hear over the chaos.

I heard stories of how anyone hit by a flexor would lose control of their muscles for up to an hour, just lying there spasming and flexing while others watched on, which is how the rifles drew their name. This did nothing to help my situation.

My eyes were wide, which I think might’ve helped me see around the barrel. His clothes were different from the cloaks that hung by the school; instead, he was dressed in a dark military uniform. A small patch was sewed onto the uniform’s shoulder, the letters FATE stitched in white. Like the ones at the school, his head was covered by a hood, a mask on his face. The mask had a flat spot where its lips were, a nose, and two eyeholes. It was white, expressionless, and completely unnerving.

I noticed others passing by me, each holding a black flex rifle, the barrel glowing a tint of lightning blue and pointing forward. They reached the kitchen, and that’s when Skylar started screaming.

Get up!

I forced my muscles to work, planting my feet on the floor. I pushed with all I had and went…nowhere. The mask above me held on tight, pressing the end of the rifle against my forehead until I could feel the vibrating barrel, making my eye twitch. I heard yelling coming from behind me.

“Clear!”

“One girl here.”

Another shadow loomed over me, and my body started trembling. It was the hood from the school, its yellow eyes looking down at me. Our eyes locked. My breathing was shallow, the knee and my horrified body not allowing me to take bigger ones.

Skylar’s screaming broke me free from the staring contest. “Get your hands off me! Macy, help me!” she yelled. She was being dragged by another soldier with a mask, who was struggling with her as she clawed at his face.

“Is this the girl?” he asked.

The hood looked over at her. “That’s her. Load her up,” it said in a man’s voice, though it sounded slightly robotic.

“Let her go,” I tried to say, finding it hard with a knee in the middle of my chest.

The rest of the masked soldiers brushed past us, exiting through the front door.

“And this is the right kid?” the mask above me asked.

The hood, who clearly was in charge, nodded in response. A gloved hand grabbed the collar of my shirt, beginning to yank me to my feet.

“No!” the hood said, the voice definitely altered. “Give him the choice.”

“I choose to be let go,” I said.

I was thrown roughly back onto the floor. The soldier set aside rifle and took his other to a pocket, producing a syringe. He flicked the cap off it, revealing the sharp-looking needle.

“I choose something else!”

I tried to fight the man’s arms, but he was much stronger than I was. I grabbed his wrist with both hands, trying to keep the needle away from me.

No matter how hard I tried, it kept getting closer until it was just inches from my neck. I strained, but he was too strong.

I winced as it pierced my skin. His thumb pressed down on the top, the clear liquid in the capsule forced into my body.

Whatever was in it started working instantly. My arms became jelly and fell to my sides.

“Skylar,” I tried, my words no more than a whisper, my muscles feeling much heavier than before.

The white mask stared at me as my eyes began to close. “Skylar…” I mumbled again. Her screams were the last thing I heard before I lost consciousness.