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“Jackson?”
Jillson looked around groggily, unsure of where she was. The last thing she remembered had been reporting back to Mr. Curtain, and…
She shivered as her clothes brushed against her skin, setting off a painful buzzing. She knew that pain. Glancing at her upper right arm confirmed it; there was a red handprint wrapped around it, swollen and inflamed.
She sighed. Obviously they had not done well on their last mission. She could only hope Jackson avoided the same fate. On that thought, she rapidly spun around. She had called for him, yet he had not responded. That either meant he wasn’t within earshot, or something very bad indeed had happened.
But there he was, lying on the ground a mere five feet away from her. His back was to her, so she couldn’t see his face.
“Jackson, are you okay?”
She stiffened. He wasn’t moving. Something was wrong. She wasn’t sure how she knew it, and in the still silence that followed she heard a faint rumbling of some sort.
“Jackson!” She screamed, terrified at what could be keeping him from responding to her.
Nothing happened.
Jillson made a move to go to him, to shake him, to ask him what was going on, but she tripped. There was a short set of metal links chaining her to the floor. She wondered how she hadn’t heard them clinking as she moved.
Yanking on the restraints yielded still no sound, and the eerie silence that covered everything like a heavy blanket was beginning to scare her. She tried to control her breathing, knowing that hyperventilating in a room where no one was around to help her probably wouldn’t be a good idea, but the fear that had been creeping in since she awoke was suffocating.
“Jackson!” She shouted again, knowing it was futile. “Please! Please, Jackson, you have to wake up! Please, please be okay. Please, Jackson, please! I need you to be okay! Jackson!”
When yet again nothing happened, no movement from him, and only a hoarse throat for her, she curled into a ball on the floor. She didn’t know how long she stayed in that position, there was no ticking clock for her to keep time by, but it felt like ages.
Eventually, Jackson stirred. He rolled onto his back, giving her full view of the dark bruise marring his face.
“Jackson!” She bolted to her feet, straining against the manacles and trying in vain to reach him.
He groaned, blinking up at the ceiling and making no sign that he’d heard her. After a few seconds he made a move to sit up, drawing his legs close, which revealed that he, too, was chained to the floor.
He looked down at the restraints, craning his neck and showing the red handprint he had matching hers on his neck. Jillson winced. The silver gloves were especially painful when applied to skin that thin.
At long last, he noticed her.
“Jillson!” He jerked toward her, forgetting the chains. He glared at them when he was halted, but then turned his attention back to Jillson.
She was crying tears of relief at this point, holding out her hand and falling only a few inches short of his. “Jackson. Jackson, what happened? Are you alright?” She knew she was speaking, could feel the vibrations in her throat and mouth, but Jackson only stared at her, head tilted.
“Jillson, what are you doing? I can’t… I can’t hear you.” Suddenly, his eyes grew wide, focussing on something just behind her.
Jillson turned around, noticing for the first time a device attached to the wall nearest her. It was small, with a red light blinking out from the centre. She didn’t recognise it.
Glancing back at Jackson, she saw that all the blood had drained from his face. “No…” He muttered. “There’s no way he would…” He shook his head, a look of despair colouring his face instead. “Who am I kidding?” He said bitterly. “Of course he would.”
“Jackson, what is it? What happened?”
He sighed, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. “Mr. Curtain told me that, as punishment for our… ‘lack of success’, he was going to test out a new technology he’s been working on. On us.” He grimaced.
Jillson took in a shaky breath. She opened her mouth to say something, but then she paused.
“Yeah.” Jackson said. “Apparently, he’s been working on some kind of silencing technology, the kind that cancels out any noise within a specific area.” He gestured to the little blinking light on the wall. “And it’s easy to assume that you are sitting right in the middle of it.”
“No.” The lack of sound ghosted over her lips, reaching no one.
“I don’t know when he’s coming back to turn it off. I’m sorry, Jills.” He sounded truly mournful. “I didn’t know he was gonna do this to us. I would have worked harder to catch those brats if I’d known.”
Jillson made a face. It’s not your fault, she wanted to say. You couldn’t have known. But she knew that it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be able to hear her.
Then a thought struck her. Hesitantly, she reached out, tapping the ground.
Jackson rolled his eyes, trying to hide his frustration and helplessness. “Jills, you know I can’t hear you, we just went over this. What are you even trying to–”
He stopped, going still. “Morse code.” He whispered. “Are– Are you really–?” He laughed, a bit wildly, and then clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Right. Right!” He said, smiling a little. “Okay, let’s see…”
And so they went, Jackson speaking and Jillson tapping on the ground, struggling to remember the pattern to the letters and numbers that they hadn’t used in such a long time, ever since that one fateful day at the flag tower.
And when Mr. Curtain came back, it was easy to pretend that they were regretful and meek from the punishment, just as they usually did. But now they had a secret weapon for the inevitable next time this technology was used against them.