Page 7 of Burn for Me

I tug at the hem of my shirt as I approach my quarters. My uniform drives everyone crazy when it’s out of place, but it feels wrong to wear it. I bump into someone and glance over.

“Seeing you in the morning?” Sharkie asks, and I stop fidgeting. We didn't start off well either, but lately, she hasn't tried to stab me. She's actually kind of cool if you overlook her violent tendencies.

“You got it, Shark,” I smirk at her annoyance over the nickname, but my smile fades; I know I’ll probably screw up ourpotential friendship too. A door shuts, capturing my attention, but whoever it is has already slipped inside.

I didn't witness the first war's chaos but saw its impact on our world. Cities were built, destroyed, and rebuilt, yet most people have moved on from the idea of near-world domination during the Chaos War. Media has distracted the public with celebrity drama, making it easier to conceal the past. Still, some hold on to that knowledge like water for a fire.

“Keep walking, little devil. You need that beauty rest.”

I scoff at the voice coming from a blinking red dot at the end of the hall.

“Don’t we all?” Sharkie grumbles as she swiftly exits toward her private quarters.

“I believe this is considered stalking,” I call out, tilting my head to ease the tension in my shoulders as I pull my key card from my fatigues.

“Observing,”Sam corrects, but I step into my room, appreciating the calming scenery I’ve tailored to my liking, and shut the door before he can argue further.

Instead of the task force's signature olive green interior, I chose dark gray walls that highlight my maroon bedspread and wooden furniture. Being secluded eases my tension, but the thought of going home remains daunting.

I open my nightstand drawer and toss my notepad on my father's letters. No matter how much I try to convince myself that I did the right thing, I still feel a sense of wrongness. I thought I could accept my purgatory, so I cut off communication with my father and took my responsibilities seriously. My gaze briefly drifts to the vanity, but I can't bear to look at the woman staring back at me—she feels fake and represents the downfall of everything I’ve learned to love.

As I've said before, it feels like we’re all just pieces in a complicated game, moving based on unseen decisions by an unknown player.

Three

8-21-2024

I’ll be what they think I can’t.

-Jasmine

“Can you sit still?” Sam hisses beside me as I slide the tip of my boot along Tide's desk. He constantly nitpicks—like my little habit of fidgeting. I made sure to tuck in my shirt and loop my belt properly this morning, but that doesn't matter to him. We've only been waiting for Tide and Sharkie for ten minutes, and he's already irritable. I could blame it on the early wake-up call, but I know it’s because his schedule has been disrupted.

The door opens, and Tides grumbles, “Sorry about that.”

Sharkie slips in with a mischievous grin, shutting the door behind her. I focus on my perfectly tied boot as she settles into Tide's chair.

“Okay, let's see…” The clacking of keys fills the air until she slams her hand down and growls, “I hate these stupid things.”

Sam yanks the computer screen and keyboard toward him in one swift motion.

“Watch it,” Tide warns. Sam can get away with much more than I can, but he's not immune to Tide's wrath when it comes to Sharkie.

“There.” Sam huffs and pushes the equipment back in front of her. I stop moving and narrow my eyes in his direction. If he's pulling stuff up, he already knows what's happening. He’s already killed my mood for the day by putting on his cold act again, as if he wasn't asking me to sit with him last night, butthismakes things that much worse.

“Why are you even here?” I grit out, and as expected, Sam doesn’t answer. He leans back in the chair, arms crossed casually.

“Aha!” Sharkie exclaims excitedly.

I’m about to lash out at Sam when Tide interrupts, “We’ll skip the formalities. The event is in two weeks, so we have three days to prepare, seven days to travel, and four days to gather information—unless transportation changes come up.”

Tide clears his throat, leaning over Sharkie to see the computer.

“Not much preparation is needed. We just need to identify the head of this operation. Maybe they live close, and we can infiltrate,” Sam starts, but Tide cuts him off.

“Preparation is necessary for this scenario.”

“You need to act the part, and Jasmine must prepare for worst-case scenarios,” Sharkie adds. I smirk while tilting myhead to get a better view of Sam's cheeks turning a light shade of red—that’s new.

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