Free Token (Token Chronicles) by Ryan Gressett

realization. It was a gunshot. My body erupts in fury trying to escape from my cuffs. All I can think is who was it? Which one of my friends was just executed because of me? I can’t handle the thought. I just keep concentrating all of my efforts into my improbable escape. I have to take vengeance on them. Somehow, I will make them pay for this despicable act. I expel every single ounce of energy I had left remaining in my body until my body and mind give out at the same time. My eyes struggle to stay open, but ultimately lose as my eyelids slowly close. But unlike one of my friends, they will eventually open again.
    There is a loud knock at the door when I am startled back into reality. Two Grods come inside and remove my bondage and rip the tape from my mouth. They each grab me by one of my armpits and effortlessly lift me up and begin dragging me out of the door. I suppose it is my time to die now, but I am going to make sure I provide them no assistance in getting me there. They continue to pull my limp body down the hallway with my toes dragging against the smooth floors. We turn around the corner, and I realize we are heading back towards the metallic chamber. We are going back to the Ambassador’s office. This is where I will meet my fate. The doors open to the black marble room, and they continue to haul me through the room to put me back in my customary chair. As they drag me there, I notice my dried blood is all over the floor. I am surprised they have not even bothered to clean it up yet. But I notice to the right there is more blood, but it is not mine. The blood is too fresh, still forming in a liquid puddle. I cannot bear to look at it any longer. The thought of who it may have come from sickens me to my core. I am rudely dumped into the chair. I notice they did not bother to constrain me here, so I need to be ready at the first opportunity I get. If they are planning to kill me now, I will not go without a fight. I spot a pen lying in front of me on the desk. Not much, but I can use it. I will make sure I take the Ambassador out. I hear the door open again behind me, and I silently prepare to fling my body into ferocious action. But when I glance to my left, I do not see the mountain of man who was the Ambassador. Instead, it is a petite cherry-headed woman who is wearing wide rimmed brown glasses that cover her easy-going green eyes. The only similarity she shares with the Ambassador is she, too, is dressed in all white, but I note the gold-plated Hawk insignias she has sown to her coat lapels.
    She eyes me intriguingly and asks, “You are Trainee 15892, correct?”
    Her voice is much more pleasant to listen to than the rough bellows of Ambassador Tarik. I nod my head at her to confirm her question not wanting to speak out of turn, still wondering whether or not I should attack this woman. But she has done nothing to me or my friends, as far as I know.
    “They tell me you are called Kincaid, here. Is it all right if I call you Kincaid, as well? I have always just been so fascinated with the names all of you get at Island 2.”
    Once again, I give her a head nod to let her know it is okay without giving any verbal response.
    “First, I would like to apologize for the actions of Ambassador Tarik. Once we heard what happened, we intervened immediately.”
    For some reason, I trust this woman. I detect genuine sincerity in her voice.
    “Oh!” she exclaims. “How rude of me! I have forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Quinn. I am the Emissary over the Hawk Island program. I manage all of the Ambassadors of each Island and oversee all transactions.”
    “When your case came across my table, I saw both the offers that were made for you, but I was amazed as to why you had not been sold for either offer,” she says in explanation. “You were still here on this Island. When I called Tarik, he did not answer. So I tapped into the security feed here at the mansion, and I saw you were being confined and