The Annihilation of Foreverland

around. “What?”
    “We got to get to the classrooms.”
    Zin didn’t know what he was thinking, but he didn’t bother asking. They were running across the Yard.

56
    “Stand up, son.” Mr. Smith sagged under Reed’s weight. “You’re not helpless.”
    Reed’s feet flopped behind him. Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones struggled to get him in the cell and lower him to the floor. His arm slipped from Mr. Smith’s grasp and his face kissed the concrete.
    “Goddamnit.” Mr. Smith put his hands on his hips, huffing. He looked around the cell, deciding how to make it work. “Let’s push him against the cell door and then we can hold him from the outside.”
    Mr. Jones helped pick up Reed. It was difficult. He flopped against the bars, knees buckling. They maneuvered around him. Mr. Jones went to the aisle first, holding Reed under the armpits. Mr. Smith quickly jumped out next, catching Reed as he slid down. They were able to hold him up and close the door.
    “Go on.” Mr. Smith pushed Mr. Jones out of the way, harnessing Reed by wedging his arms beneath the armpits and grabbing the bars. “I’ll hold him until the round starts.”
    “You sure?”
    “Yes, yes! Now go, I’ll be out in a moment.”
    The boys in the other cells watched the spectacle silently, fully dressed and waiting. Mr. Smith looked at the empty cells next to his. There were two of them.
    Danny Boy and Zin are gone. The Director made the right decision, those boys would be a distraction. They’d be trying to keep Reed from the lucid gear. This has gone on too long.
    Mr. Smith met with the Director the day before. The slob stood over his damn telescope sipping whiskey while Mr. Smith – for the thousandth time – made suggestions.
    “It’s now or never,” the Director said. “Let’s make it happen now.”
    Mr. Smith, if he was honest, was shocked. The Director agreed to everything Mr. Smith asked to do. He’d leave Reed in that cell until he either took the lucid gear or died.
    And that was fine with Mr. Smith. He had grown weary.
    Sweat ran on both sides of his face. When Mr. Jones closed the door, the skylights went dark and the lucid gear dropped. The boys quietly pulled their gear to the floor and slid it over their heads. In moments, the only sound was Mr. Smith’s labored breathing.
    Then the cell walls began to click.
    The back wall continued moving until it pressed against Reed’s back. Mr. Smith heaved him up one more time before removing his arms to avoid being pinned. The wall pressed him tighter. Tighter. And tighter.
    Reed let out a groan. His eyes opened.
    Something popped in his chest before the pressure eased.
    “Last chance, Reed.”

57
    The floor wasn’t stable.
    It was like walking on a platform that was balanced on the end of a pole. No matter which way Reed leaned, it was too far. He tried to compensate but couldn’t find the tipping point.
    When the old men got him to his cell, he crashed.
    He tasted blood and the acrid tang of green leaves. His chin was numb.
    “He’s a pig. He wants you to die.”
    She was in the next cell. Her hair was long . Red. He couldn’t make out the features, his eyes too swollen, but he recognized Lucinda’s voice.
    She squatted so she was eye-level. Grabbed the bars.
    “Disgusting pigs.”
    Hands grabbed him, again. Heaved him against the cold bars. His knees refused to lock. His arms, noodles. Old breath was in his ear.
    Door slammed.
    Lights out.
    And then the clicking of the cell. And the squeezing. The pressure.
    The pain.
    It cut through the leaf-induced fog.
    A rib popped.
    He couldn’t breathe. His breath burned in his chest. And the cell squeezed. It would crush him.
    And then it relaxed.
    Reed sucked in air that sliced inside his broken chest. He tried to stop, but he had to breathe. And each one hurt so bad.
    The cage remained tight enough to hold him up.
    Mr. Smith, his old spotted face, was inches away. His eyes relaxed, limp and uncaring. He told Reed last chance . This was his last chance. Reed knew what that meant. He knew he would die in the Haystack this time.
    Grateful it would finally end.
    “Don’t let them win.” Lucinda was behind Mr. Smith. “They want to keep us apart. If you die, they win. This old, rotten bastard… wins.”
    Reed tried to speak, but there was only enough space inside his chest for a ragged breath before he needed another.
    “Don’t fight it,” Mr. Smith said. “There is peace inside Foreverland, Reed. There is no need to