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Patriot Day: Part 7

Exploring the Compound

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Patriot Day: Part 7
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Gabe woke up in an unfamiliar place for the second time in a week. He stared at the white ceiling above him in confusion. His room at home was painted a light blue, it had been the same since childhood. After a few moments, he regained his orientation, but new questions rose to his forebrain. He couldn’t remember how he had managed to get from the building with many columns to his current location.

With a sigh, he turned to his side and encountered another wall. The room felt clinical - a far departure from the scenes on the street he had seen when he arrived at the compound. There were so many colors outside, but in here he could barely open his eyes without squinting. Perhaps it was a sign that he was still considered an outsider. The compound didn’t feel exclusive, but everyone was also aware Gabe didn’t choose to go on his own. He would probably have to prove himself one way or another. He already dreaded what they had in store for him.

From where he layed, he could hear footsteps walking past his door. Gabe wasn’t sure if he wanted to approach leaving the room yet. He sat up and looked around the rest of the room. There wasn’t much in terms of furniture. Besides the bed, there was only a side table and a small lamp. Gabe got up to check if there was anything in the table’s drawer. There was only a stylus, no tablet. He grabbed the stylus and shoved the door closed, hoping he would find a tablet soon. They had to be somewhere.

Gabe noticed the distinct lack of a closet. He had never hung his clothes up at home, but the lack thereof made his room seem more like a prison. Gabe shuddered at the thought. He decided it was time to leave the room.

The door opened as soon as Gabe got near it. As it slid open, it revealed a long hallway with multiple, identical doors to his own. There was nothing identifying the person inside except for a number in the middle of each door. A small sign hung to his left that revealed which numbers were in what direction. There was no mention of a cafeteria, which Gabe felt should be housed in a building like this. It reminded him of his dormroom freshman year of college, but with less noise. Gabe started to wonder if he was still dreaming when he heard those footsteps.

Taking his chances, he began to walk in the direction the first room was located in. He tried waving his hands in front of a few of the doors but nothing opened. With this realization, his heart started to beat faster. He might have locked himself out of his room. The sound of his anxiety echoed through the halls as he kept moving.

Eventually, by number 16, he came to a window. All he could see was farmland. Either the city was on the other side, or he had been relocated to somewhere no one would bother with him.

Gabe desperately wanted to know how the operation he accidentally intruded upon ended. He never had a problem with the current administration, but he knew things were bad outside D.C. His father had always drilled into his head how he was lucky to grow up in a metropolis. Gabe was suddenly starting to doubt that narrative. Something in the back of his mind was beginning to nag at him.

Gabe leaned his head against the window and took a long look outside. He closed his eyes in an effort to return to a time where things made sense. An image suddenly crossed his mind. He saw a large building, painted red, with circular markings on it. He could taste the smell of freshly cut grass on his tongue.

This didn’t feel like a memory that should be in his head. The nagging feeling subsided into a dull ache. Gabe shook his head, blaming the strange vision on the lighting in the hallway.

Gabe knew he ought to put more thought into his predicament but he could barely keep his feet on the ground, as it stood. He started walking towards door number 1 and found an elevator at the end of the hallway. There was no up and down switch. Gabe tried waving his hands in front of the elevator. No luck.

He turned his back on the elevator and sunk to the ground, placing his head on the crack between the two doors. The only thing he grabbed from the room was the stylus. He tried putting the tip of it in the crack to pry it open. He miraculously got it to move an inch. Excitedly, he tried opening it enough to put his hand through.

Just as he was about to open the doors, he heard a whooshing sound from beneath him. He backed away from the elevator quickly, not eager to lose a hand. He didn’t know what prosthetics looked like down here.

The elevator halted and the doors began to open. Gabe hoped it would be a friendly face.

No such luck.

Jace appeared from behind the elevator doors and Gabe made a conscious effort to not let his face fall. “Hey!” Gabe said with a smile he hoped was not clearly faked. He didn’t exactly have anything against Jace, but he also didn’t like him that much. The adrenaline from their adventure must have worn off.

“Guess we’re both out of luck,” Jace replied. He grabbed Gabe by the wrist and pulled him into the elevator.

“Well, at least I won’t be stuck here anymore.”

“Not sure the alternative will be any more preferable,” Jace said.


As they began their descent, the initial shock of this morning began to wear off of Gabe. At least he wouldn’t have to make small talk. He settled into the back of the elevator, next to Jace, and crossed his arms. Jace laughed and followed suit.
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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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