MICROFICTION

A Lot Can Happen in Thirty Seconds

Between flashes of life and death

I eyed the red liquid trickling across the length of my hand and pointed it downward to aid its path. I should have asked the medic to patch me up.

On the plus side, it could short-circuit the chips embedded inside.

Three and O signaled 2H with their fingers.

It was all reflexes for me, at this point. It didn't matter who I got assigned with or what the mission was. I’d been doing this since I was plucked for training at twelve and didn’t believe in overthinking things.

I focussed on what I needed to. Eyes, rhythmic movements, and orders.

Sitting on the side of the building with my back towards a window, I couldn't spot anything of significance. I settled for a weapon check.

I looked upwards for a reason I cannot remember when I saw it.

A white cloth, the size of a small napkin, drifting like a feather, taking its sweet time along the way. Someone had dropped it from the third floor.

“WHITE.”

“Pull,” came the monotone response.

I choked. I couldn’t move my legs. I tried to yell, but nothing came out.

A deep thunder rang in my ears. Flames danced in my pupils. I stood there suspended in time, contemplating the consequences of my inaction.

Refusing to follow the rules meant one thing — death. I closed my eyes, waiting for the fire to engulf me. To swallow the pain, guilt, and rage.

Suddenly, a body flung itself at me, pinning me to the ground.

“The orders were clear, Jess.”

“Torch the building. Bring you back alive.”

Another episode from the future: