Blood, Guts, and Glory...Without the Guts and Glory

I hung up the phone and stared at it. I heard Shia move behind me, but I didn't care to look.

"I guess we'd better find that locker," Shia said after I had told him everything.

"Yeah, two minutes isn't a long time. Shia, I'm scared," I told him.

"I'm scared too, Jen. But it's not going to be that bad. It shouldn't be, right?" His face was filled with concern."Let's just get this over with," I said as I left.

"Wait, we don't want any more orders, or at least I don't," Shia said. I saw him rip out the phone's cord from the phone jack. He took out his switchblade and frayed the wire. "That should do it," he said, smiling ruefully.

He followed me out to the room with the lockers. "I'll take this section; could you get the other?" I asked him.

"Yeah, I'll call out if I find anything. Just drop what you're doing and run to the door. I'll meet you there. If you find something, let me know and get there as fast as possible, ok?" Shia said.

I didn't look at him.

"Ok? You'll be alright. We can do this!" Shia said. Suddenly his arms were gently around me, almost not touching me, but I still was shocked. "You can do this," He whispered in my ear before he took off to the other side of the room.

When my shocked state passed, I started to open locker doors. It began to be methodic, Open, nothing there, close. Open, nothing there, close. Open, nothing there, close. Open, wait--! "SHIA! I GOT IT!" I screamed, and then I heard him start running.

I reached down and picked up the white envelope, vaguely catching sight of a trip wire. I ignored it and ran for my life to the metal door. Shia was there, and I handed him the envelope, too out of breath to open it. He opened it, and a small piece of paper fluttered into his fingers.

"'06-11-19-86'," Shia read out. "Wait! That's my birthday!?" He exclaimed in bewilderment. "This is just weird," he said as he punched in the numbers on the keypad beside the door that I hadn't noticed before.

The door opened silently inward. Shia grabbed it and opened it before taking my hand and leading me through.

It didn't lead to outside, not directly. There was a screen door and an encased room, but that was it. On the floor was a small silver lockbox, as the Director said. There was a strange computerized thing on it, and I had no clue what I was looking at.

"Wait, that person said blood, right?" Shia asked as he kneeled down beside the box.

"Yeah...what's that?" I asked. I had noticed a tag on it.

"It says, 'One vial of blood that passes the grade grants freedom. One from the other leads to mayhem..' …passes the grade?" Shia asked.

"B-blood? That passes the grade?" I was completely bewildered.

"My blood type is O, and that is someone who can donate blood to everyone, I think, does that pass a grade?" Shia mused aloud. I smacked my forehead and realized things were funny to someone out there, if not us.

"It's me…." I led off. He turned his attention to me.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I have A positive blood. A plus passes grades…for me, anyway…strict family…." I led off. My blood? Oh, God, why me? I asked myself. I was terrified of needles, blood, or anything of the sort.

"Well. Then. Let's go, shall we? It won't be that bad! I've had it done lots of times!" Shia said, trying to comfort me. He opened a smaller box that sat beside the lockbox. Sure enough, it contained a hypodermic needle, a tourniquet, and a small, empty vial.

"No, I can't. I hate needles! I can't!" I said, stepping back towards the door.

"Come on, Jen! We have to. We have to get out of here!" Shia pleaded with me.

I took a deep breath. I was about to go against everything that I had ever built up. My phobia of needles has been around since I was a young child. Bad experiences...and here's another one to add to the list.

"Ok, let's do it. I can't do it myself, though," I said, suddenly frightened again.

"I can do it. I took a nursing class in high school—what? Don't look at me like that!" He said in protest to my look of disbelief and mirth.

"Ok, just get it over with." I sat down beside him and offered him my left arm. He took out the needle and looked at it. "Well, it's fresh, but no cleaning pads or anything. We'll just have to go as it is. Bear with me, ok?" Shia said. His voice was calm. He was in control. He could do this even if I couldn't. I watched him pull out the tourniquet, and he wrapped it tightly around my upper arm.

He looked at me right before he brought the needle to my skin. I looked down at the needle in his hand.

"No, don't look at it, look at me. Come on, at me, Jen," He said. I looked back up at him and studied his hair. Suddenly a gentle prick erupted into a blast of pain that shot up my arm. I struggled to focus on his hair and how it was messy and neat all at the same time.

"Ok, we're done. That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked me. I shook my head as he took my hand and put my own finger on the pinprick. "Hold this for a minute, alright?" I nodded.

He took the tourniquet off, and I held on for dear life. I watched as he took the vial and placed it in a slot on the lockbox. The slot closed around it, and in seconds, the lockbox sprung open, showing us the bright and shiny keys to our freedom.

There was also a timer in there. It showed that we had forty-five seconds to get away from there.

"Come on! We gotta go!" Shia grabbed my hand again, and we ran to the blue sports-looking car. He unlocked the car and opened the door for me. I was about to get inside when the world around me went black, and I knew no more.