by DeVere, Taya
But devices like these wouldn’t do. Samuel wouldn’t have believed in using the devil’s devices.
That’s what she tells the children. That technology like that is unnatural, an invention of the sinful. It’d only turn them all into pathetic creatures, constantly seeking comfort and convenience. People whose lives are filled with vanity, turned away from anything that God created.
No. Being cut off from the outer world is better for the children. Anything that remains outside Kinship Care has no meaning, no value. The only danger remains outside the metal gates. Danger like deadly diseases, deadly weapons, murderous rebels. It doesn’t matter why the Unchipped woman is looking for Ava. All that matters is keeping the children safe. Inside Kinship Care. Samuel’s church. Under Enyd’s control.
“Sister Enyd?”
Ava’s words startle her. A few awkward steps take Enyd to the red blanket and the girl. She stands next to her bare arm. Whether it’s her arthritis or her fall on the stairs that sends small spasms up her leg, she doesn’t know.
With a slightly shaking hand, Enyd empties the syringe into Ava’s arm. The girl looks away but doesn’t wince or grimace. She’s gotten used to the shots after two years of living in the home. Enyd gets up and puts the box away.
In her mind’s eye, Enyd looks for Margaret. It takes a minute until the deaf woman answers her tapping. The connection opens, but Margaret doesn’t greet her. Her silent ways drive Enyd to the brink of insanity. Careful not to speak out loud, Enyd turns away from Ava.
Margaret? Could you please bring Hannah down to the basement?
The silence continues.
Did you hear me? Can you—
“What. For. Sister.”
Enyd sighs and sits down on the only furniture in the chilly room: a wobbly chair by the heavy wooden door. Don’t Sister me, Margaret. Just go get her. And tell Oliver and Thomas that the furnace needs attending. Tell them to meet me here after.
Enyd waits while Margaret looks around the basement through her eyes. She can sense the panic rising in the woman’s head. For a moment, Enyd’s sure Margaret will resist. That she’ll rise up against her leadership and command.
“I’ll bring. Her. But I want. To stay. With the. Girls.”
Enyd grows impatient and relieved at the same time. When has that ever been a good idea? Your being here will only slow the process. Just bring the girl. And ask the boys to take Noah to the furnace room.
“Noah? Why?”
You know why. He’s a sinner, just like Hannah.
“You have. No proof that. He’s the. Father. I think. They are. Just. Friends.”
Could it be? Enyd thinks back over the two years they’ve spent in Kinship Care. Friendships aren’t something she pays attention to. But the cafeteria is. Where does Hannah usually sit? With the other teenage girls? With youngsters? Images of antique dining tables and long wooden benches flash through her mind. In the farthest corner, far away from the kitchen, she sees Hannah and Noah. Sitting opposite one another, chit-chatting. Laughing. Next to them: Oliver and Thomas. Leaning over empty bowls of food. Relaxing. Off duty.
It doesn’t matter what Enyd thinks. Or Margaret. The boys will know who the father is.
Fine. Just bring me the girl then. I’ll deal with Noah later.
Enyd closes the connection, hoping that she has intimidated Margaret enough to do as she’s told. If only the fragile woman could be as easy to handle as the boys are. Oliver and Thomas would never give her grief. They’re too eager and thirsty for action. Willing to do anything to avoid another dreary, excitement-free day herding the children.
Enyd rubs the back of her neck as the pressure starts to build up again around her head.
Ava’s suddenly by her side. “Sister Enyd, are you sure you didn’t hit your head? You seem to be in a lot of pain.”
Enyd has never realized how hard it is to pretend, to hide the conversations inside her head. But the girl can never find out. Not if Enyd wants to keep her safe. Alive.
“Go sit in the red corner, Ava. I’m fine.” Enyd rubs the bridge of her nose. “I’m just… praying. We’ll begin once we’re all here. Until then, just leave me be.”
Ava backs off. She walks back to her uncomfortable bed, sits down, and buries her head between her knees.
The connection opens again.
“Thomas. Wants to know. If he is. To bring. The rolling pins.”
***
Footsteps echo from the stairway. The door to the furnace room opens. The sound of two sets of footsteps reaches her ears. Enyd hears a careful knock, then gets up and pulls the heavy door open. Wearing a bulky sweater that reaches her knees, Hannah walks in. She’s carrying a red bag—identical to Ava’s. She stops in the middle of the concrete floor, hesitating. It’s not that she hasn’t been here before. But she’s never been here with another sinner joining her. Ava nods at the corner opposite hers. The girl, brown hair tied up in a messy bun, walks to the corner. She starts spreading out what’s inside the red bag, creating a bed like Ava’s.
Margaret hovers by the doorway. Enyd walks over to her and lowers her voice. “You can go now. Doesn’t do you any good to see this.”
The woman won’t meet Enyd’s eyes. Margaret stares over Enyd’s shoulder, to where the two girls shiver on the concrete floor.
Enyd clears her throat. “Sister Margaret. It’s bedtime soon. You have over a hundred people to check up on. I’ve got this covered. We have no need for you here.”
She lingers, reluctant to leave. Enyd places her hand on Margaret’s shoulder and pushes her gently but firmly back toward the stairway. Finally, Margaret’s shoulders slump. She turns and walks to the stairs. Slowly, one step at a time, she makes her way back upstairs.
Chatter echoes from the furnace room. Enyd waits for the boys to finish with the firewood. Once they walk out, Oliver takes off a pair of heavy-duty gloves and places them on a wooden bench by the furnace room door. Thomas raises his eyebrows at Enyd. When the old woman says nothing, he asks, “They both here?”
Enyd nods.
“And Noah?”
Enyd shakes her head. “I have some questions before we bring him down.”
The boys exchange a look but don’t say anything. They walk in, Oliver carrying a black duffel bag and Thomas cracking his knuckles. Enyd catches her breath when she sees their relaxed demeanor. Her fingers squeeze the smartphone in her pocket. Arnie doesn’t see what happens in the basement. No one does. She’ll need to use the smart phone’s camera to record the video.
The heavy wooden door thumps shut. Suddenly dizzy and feeling drained, Enyd sits down on the chair beside the door.
The duffel bag is open on the floor. Both boys dig around in it, stopping to place items on the floor or to put on a pair of leather gloves. Three industrial metal rolling pins, each a different size, clink against the concrete floor as Oliver sets them in a neat row.
With a deep sigh, Enyd fishes the phone from her pocket. Her fingers shake as she enters the pin code into the device.
1-2-3-4
The phone makes a clicking sound. Bright blue light shines up into Enyd’s face. She does her best to keep her expression blank. Like what’s about to happen has no effect on her whatsoever.
Hannah has pulled the oversized sweater over her knees. Her back pressed against the stone wall, her wide eyes travel from the boys to Ava, and then back to Oliver and Thomas. No one says a word.
After a few minutes, the boys stand up and turn toward Enyd. They nod in sync. Then they fold their gloved hands and lower their gaze.
Enyd turns off the phone and shoves it back into her pocket. Then she stands up, folds her hands, and begins. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
Ava and Hannah exchange a look. Ava folds her hands. Hannah follows her example.
Enyd continues, “And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors…” She clears her throat. The room spins slightly around her. “The Holy Spirit, whom the F
ather will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid.”
Enyd nods at Oliver. The young man walks to Ava, pulls her up from her red bed. He leads the girl to the middle of the floor. “Lie down, please.” Ava lies down, her back against the floor. Enyd stares at the girl. Why can’t she just stay out of her own way? Let go of the outside world, and what used to be?
She digs out the smartphone and taps on the video icon.
RECORD
The Chipped won’t show this part. The work the boys do will never make it into the final video. But they will want proof of Enyd’s methods. Evidence that she is still obeying their orders.
Enyd’s voice booms against the stone walls. “Then, when lust has conceived, it gives birth to sin. And when sin is accomplished, it brings forth death.”
Thomas picks up a rolling pin and walks over. He kneels next to Ava’s arm, pushes the rolling pin against her flesh. His bodyweight drops on the pin.
Ava’s scream makes Hannah curl up into a ball. A ball so small, the only thing Enyd sees is the oversized sweater: a woolly, shaking bundle. A pregnant bundle. She’s a sinner. A reprobate.
In a way, she deserves this. Doesn’t she?
Thomas works his way around Ava’s body. Each time he kneels down and works the rolling pin, Ava’s piercing scream makes Enyd close her eyes. The phone shakes slightly in Enyd's hands. Oliver’s right fist lands on the side of Ava’s left ear. Once the screaming ends, the boys pick the Unchipped girl up and drag her to the wooden chair.
Thomas goes to get Hannah.
Hannah doesn’t fight Thomas, but he struggles to get her up from the floor and then lower her down to the middle of the floor. The girl’s stomach is big enough for her to need help getting down. Thomas looks at Enyd, his eyes searching for something. A confirmation? Is there a small piece of him that doesn’t want to go through with this?
“Sister Enyd, could you give me a hand? She’s too… she struggles to get back down.”
Enyd walks over. Gently, and with Thomas’ assistance, she helps Hannah lie down on the floor. Before she can stop herself, Enyd’s hand softly brushes the top of Hannah’s head.
After five punches, Hannah’s head lolls to its side.
“Stay away from her stomach area,” Enyd says. Then she hesitates and continues. “Let’s only work on her left side today. And Oliver, that’s enough with her face. It’s supposed to look like the plague, not a boxing match.”
“But last time you said—” At Enyd’s stern look, Oliver shuts his mouth in the middle of his objection. Clearly agitated, he shrugs once and crosses his arms against his chest. Thomas picks up a rolling pin. Just as he’s about to press Hannah’s left arm between the pin and the concrete floor, Enyd takes a quick step forward. “Hold on a second.”
From her pocket, she picks out the box of blockers. She takes out a clean needle and a syringe and prepares the shot as she’s done a hundred times before. But this time, she doesn’t know what the shot will do. The blockers are meant for the Unchipped, those with a broken implant in their brain. Not for one of the Chipless whose brains are chip-free.
Enyd struggles to find a vein in the girl’s arm. Thomas digs out a flashlight. In the flickering yellow light, Enyd finally finds the vein and empties the syringe into Hannah’s arm. The girl winces and muffles her scream when the needle pierces her skin.
They stand in silence and wait. After a few minutes, Enyd nods at Thomas. “Show me some light. I need to see her eyes.” Thomas does as he’s told. Hannah’s eyes are blurry and unfocused. Just like Enyd hoped they would be. She’s out of it. Her body’s not used to the substance, so it’s hitting her hard. Harder than it hits Ava.
“You can proceed now, Thomas.”
Enyd walks back to Ava who nods in and out of consciousness. Enyd fishes out the smartphone. She sits on the floor beside Ava. Gently, she shakes the girl awake. “Sweetie. I need you to take off your sweatshirt and pants.” As if in a dream, the girl obeys. She strips off the clothing she’s wearing and puts on the red shorts and a tank top Enyd hands her from the red bag. Then Ava takes the second blanket and wraps it around her bruised body.
A dull thud tells Enyd Oliver is ready with Hannah.
With a deep sigh, Enyd points the smart phone’s camera at Ava. The girl looks up, slightly less blurry-eyed, clearly in pain from the beating her body has just taken. Enyd reaches for the blanket and places it over the top of Ava’s head. She arranges the fabric so that the blue bruising around her limbs shows up clearly along with her swollen face.
“Okay, Ava. Start counting.”
Ava’s eyes travel from the phone to Enyd and back. Finally, she nods.
“One. Two. Three. Four. Five…”
Enyd presses the video icon. She zooms in on Ava’s injuries, her tear smudged face, and her body shaking from pain and cold.
“Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three.”
Enyd starts praying. This time—for the first time—silently.
Please, God. Let Nurse Saarinen approve these wounds and bruises. Let Doctor Solomon’s team make a video so overwhelming that none of the Chipped will ever dare to leave their city, ever again. Let these two plague-ravaged girls show them what waits for them outside. Help them understand how fortunate they are to live inside the Happiness-Program.
CHAPTER 3 — 2 YEARS EARLIER
The prison’s TV room is empty, except for a lonely shadow sitting in front of the TV. His chin is lowered. The man’s not really watching the telly, where a cheery woman chops vegetables for her weekly cooking show. The volume is turned all the way down, and the central heating’s low hum is the only sound in the room.
Enyd’s rubber-soled work slippers tap against the prison’s concrete floor. A keychain with multiple USB sticks and keycards rattles to the rhythm of her steady step. She shouldn’t be here, not without the guards shadowing her steps. But it’s worth the risk. He is worth everything.
Enyd stops behind the bald, wide-shouldered man. His skin looks pale. Paler than it did the day before.
“Samuel…”
Enyd’s voice creaks a bit and then fades away. By clearing her throat, she’s asking for permission to join the prisoner. When it’s just the two of them, a different set of rules applies. All the tables turn. It’s the only time when Enyd’s willing to lose all control. To be the one without the reins.
Samuel taps the plastic seat next to him. Enyd walks around the row of chairs and sits down next to the dark-skinned man. They’ve had these late-night chats so many times, but the tickling sensation in her stomach never seems to cease. It makes her feel as though she’s a teenager—not a sixty-something-year-old prison counsellor waiting for her pension to kick in.
The man turns over the book he’s been reading. A white, plastic-covered Bible. Smiling, Samuel turns to look at Enyd. “If I were a genie in a bottle. If you were to release me. What would be your one wish?”
Enyd can’t help but smile back at the man. “A wish? That’s what you’re giving me?”
Samuel looks down at the Bible cover and shakes his head. “Greed is a bottomless pit.”
Enyd can’t help but chuckle. “And here I thought your Bible didn’t have any room for superstitious things like genies and magical wishes.”
“Nothing wrong with a bit of fun. Call it a brain teaser. The thought of the day.”
Playfully, Enyd rolls her eyes. She folds her hands and relaxes against the uncomfortable seat. “Well, okay then. I wish…” Samuel reaches for her hand. A warm wave travels through Enyd’s whole body. “I wish that I could find a cure. That I could go out there and heal those who have gotten sick. That I could make people stop hurting each other and hurting themselves. I wish I could take away their guns and pills and knives. Bring back the peace and order.”
Samuel’s thumb
caresses the back of her palm. Enyd squeezes his hand, leaning closer. But only an inch. Someone could walk in at any minute.
“That’s a big wish, Enyd. And hardly just a wish. Sounds more like a dozen of them.”
“Call me a bottomless pit, then. But what else is there left to hope for?”
“Sounds like you’ve been watching the news again.”
She nods. Holding on to his hand with both of hers. “It’s bad, Samuel. More people dying. Hospitals too full. And useless anyway, as the doctors are now infected as well.”
Samuel’s calm expression doesn’t change. A small smile lingers on his cracked lips. Enyd fights the temptation to touch his three-day beard. Deep in thought, he nods, the movement almost too slight for Enyd to notice. “They all have bruises? Swollen skin?”
“All the same. Their bodies rotting away. Faces turning to ash. Lungs too weak to breathe.”
Enyd reaches for the Bible but keeps her eyes on Samuel. The man is too composed. Too tranquil. He should be trembling. Panicking. Bending under the sad fact that their world is coming to its end.
Enyd squeezes his hand tighter. She clears her throat and lowers her gaze. The plastic on the white Bible is stained and scratched. “Some people are talking about leaving the country.”
“And where would they go?”
“Anywhere outside the United Kingdom. Warden Bailey fled to Finland. He was promised a brain chip and a house in the AR-City. Instead of preventing prison breaks, he’ll be watching movies about them through these glasses. He’ll have a whole new reality. Anyone with a chip will.”
Samuel smirks and lets go of Enyd’s hands, folding his on top of the Bible. “Whoever sows to please their flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction. Whoever sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life.”
Enyd looks up to the television. The woman is dropping chopped-up vegetables into a boiling pot. Her expressions are too lively, too excited for her to be doing something so ordinary. Cooking, while an unknown sickness wipes out people outside the studio. But she isn’t really in that studio. The show’s a rerun, and the woman is already shipped away to wherever celebrities and rich people now live. Maybe somewhere in America? Enyd doesn’t know.
