Page 53 of Fragments
To the goddamn motherfucking Pentagon.
Files are just opening up with a touch and it’s beyond wild. My eyes are dry as hell, but I can’t even blink. I’m just scouring them for anything I can understand. And honestly, it’s an overload of information. Literally,everythingis in here…
It’s heavy. More than heavy… It’sdetrimental.
I feel like I’m staring at the arc of the covenant.This shit is about to melt my face off.
Reality hits me like a palm upside the head, and I start to panic.
I gotta get the fuck out of here.
This is national security… I’m a domestic fucking terrorist right now!
The sheer volume of crazy shit I’m seeing is making me want to puke, so I scuttle my way out, dropping a bomb of recursive algorithm that erases any sign I was ever there. Like a virtual DNA sweep.
Everything is coming back clean. I take a breath, rubbing my face with my hands.
That was insane. I can’t believe I just did that.
A laugh bubbles in my throat, and I shake my head. Sipping from my drink, I get up and stretch, still reeling from what I just saw.
It was a lot… Like,a lot,a lot.Toomuch.
It’s not like I meant to see it… I didn’t take pictures to send to foreign enemies or anything.
I just wanted to find out about government-funded human sex trafficking…
Not launch codes for biochemical warfare, nuclear missile targets, a dossier on JFK’s assassination, and what looked like some kind of intergalactic trade agreement…
Jesus fucking Christ.
It’s all in my head now. That means I’m a threat…
I’m public enemy number one.Me… an eighteen-year-old virgin, who’s clearly too smart for his own good.
My paranoia spikes quickly into the red, and I power LOIS down completely. I’m shaking as I pick up my phone, wondering if I should smash it.Would that even do anything??
No, dumbass, you know it won’t. You’re in your house. They can obviously find you.
Maybe I should leave…?
Slinking over to the window, I peek between the blinds. Everything looks normal.
No drones… No helicopters. No suspicious looking guys in sunglasses speaking into their wrists.
Okay, you’ve seen way too many movies. Get a grip, man.
Your algorithm worked. If you’d been traced, it would have alerted you.
My internal placations aren’t really working, though. I’m jacked up to the max and on the verge of a giant freak-out.
Opening a text to Leah, I type a message with trembling fingers.
Me: I just want you to know that I love you. You’re my best friend.
I stare out the window for so long, I end up dozing off, startling awake with my face pressed into the blinds. Breathing becomes a little easier when more time passes and I realize that nothing is happening.I was all worked up for no reason.
Yawning, I head into the house, dragging myself upstairs to my bedroom. My phone buzzes in my hand as I’m crashing into bed.
