Sifters

by Shane Scollins

  “Ebo,” Tallon said. “How’s she doing?”

  “Brain activity has increased to near normal levels. That’s a great sign. The swelling has reduced significantly. The prognosis is very good, better than expected. I’m optimistic for the first time.”

  Tallon went past her and into the room.

  “I’m thirsty.” Jocelyn walked past Dia as she went over to the bar. “You want anything?”

  “What’s in there?”

  Jocelyn swung around the bar and bent to look under. “Oh, just your basic vodka, wine, whisky, and rum, some gin, a few mixers. And a few other assorted toxins. Basically anything you want. Ebo, you want anything?” Jocelyn yelled. Ebo shook her head and ducked into the room after Tallon. “Guess not. What about you, Dia? What’s your pleasure?”

  Dia shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Jocelyn poured a tiny glass of some amber liquid and slid it over to Dia. “Try this.”

  The amber liquid twinkled in the light. She brought it up to her face and sniffed it. “Oh, that smells strong. What is this?”

  Jocelyn poured herself something in a bigger glass. “That’s whiskey, a honey blend. It’s sweet, you’ll like it. Just drink it fast, one gulp.”

  Dia brought it to her lips, dumped the drink into her mouth, and swallowed. She didn’t like it. “Ugh, that’s nasty.”

  “They get better the more you drink them.” She poured Dia another shot of something darker in color. “Here, try this one.”

  Dia was stating to feel a little funny. Her belly was growing warmer inside. She didn’t really drink often since keeping that straight edge was what kept you alive out in the wasteland. Once, however, she found several cases of red wine in a bunker, and used to hit it every night for weeks until it was gone. Still, she never really got too drunk, just buzzed enough to fall asleep.

  Without really thinking it through, she took the second drink and gulped it down. That one tasted a little better. It was sweeter and tasted like cherry. “What’s that stuff?”

  “Blackberry brandy.”

  “I’m starting to feel a little strange.”

  Jocelyn laughed. “I love feeling strange.”

  “What is this place?” Dia looked to the ceiling, which had a bunch of symbols on it.

  “Many years ago it was a government installation. There are four floors below this about ten times the size of this one. But it was later converted into a gentlemen’s club at some point before the crash.”

  “What exactly is a gentleman’s club?”

  “It’s a place where men would come to get away from their wives and families for a few hours a week. Back when life was far different. You’re probably too young to remember things like this place.”

  Dia nodded. “I remember things. I just didn’t always know exactly what they were. You know, things are mysterious when you’re a kid.”

  “I guess so. I wasn’t really ever a kid.”

  “How come?”

  She took a shot. “My father was a piece of rancid garbage. He used to beat my mother and me, so she stole me and ran away when I was eight years old. We ended up living all over the place, running from him for years.”

  “He chased you?”

  Jocelyn downed another shot. “He sure did. He was a determined bastard.”

  “How’d you get away?”

  She met Dia’s eyes with an icy glare. “I killed him.”

  Dia swallowed hard and then slid her shot glass over for another fill up. Jocelyn filled the glass, and Dia slugged it back. “You killed your own father?”

  She nodded. “I had no choice. I watched him kill my mother, and he was going to kill me next. I decided I didn’t want to die, so I shot him six times.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Wow, that’s crazy.”

  Jocelyn shrugged. “Some might say. But is it really that crazy? Everyone has a story of tragedy these days. I’m not special anymore. Maybe in the old world that was tragic.” She took another shot. “Not anymore.” She looked up at Dia. “What’s your sad story?”

  Dia picked up her shot glass but just looked at it. “My family lost the lottery.”

  “Mine too.”

  “Really? You’re a—”

  “Yes, I’m like you. I’m a Sifter.”

  “I’m not a Sifter.”

  She winked. “Yeah, neither am I.”

  Dia sighed. “We had a neighbor, and they won the annex lottery, the very last one.”

  “You mean the bullshit lottery that wasn’t even a lottery?”

  Dia nodded. “A few months earlier, they’d lost a son in the Philly meteor strike. My brother Ray was the same age.”

  Jocelyn took another sip from the tall glass. “So you bootstrapped him.”

  Dia frowned. “My father thought it was a good idea.”

  “Everyone did. At the time, it was pure genius. It still was if you got in with the right family.”

  “But then we found out about the undiagnosed, the kids who refused the life path, and what was really going on inside the Cortech school system. And my father didn’t want Ray in that. So we started to plan, he trained me, and we had it all set out. We were going to hit the school, get him out to the annex and away from the city.”

  Jocelyn eyed her. “Your father?”

  Dia shook her head. “He was killed a few months ago, murdered by a group of guerillas. There were too many of them, armed with machine guns. The executed my father and took my mother. I’m guessing they used her up and killed her too.” Dia tried to hide her sadness, but it was evident.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shook it off, as always. “Yeah, well, like you said,” she sipped another shot, “everyone has a story. There’s no time to feel sorry for yourself in this world.”

  Jocelyn held up her glass. “You got that right, sister. I guess we’re just a couple of messed up chicks in a messed up world.”

  They clicked their glasses together. Jocelyn said, “Cheers to the freaks.”

  Dia emptied her glass and leaned her elbows on the bar. “How d’you know Tallon?”

  “Oh, we go way back. When I first snuck into the city, I was very young, stupid, and I was selling the only asset I had.” She stepped back and put a hand on her curvy hip. “One flip of this hair, a wiggle of these hips, and men would pretty much give me anything I wanted.”

  Dia raised her brow. “Yeah, I could see that.” Jocelyn was hot, curves all over, crystal blue eyes, and golden hair. She looked like a goddess. Dia wished she had curves like that, and she tried not to let her gaze linger for too long.

  “Tallon,” Jocelyn smiled fondly, “he convinced me I was worth more than that. He gave me a real job, taught me how to take care of myself, and got me a resident card. And the rest is history. We’ve had each other’s back ever since. He’s the only person on this God-forsaken planet that I trust. And I’m sure he’d tell you the same.”

  Dia studied Jocelyn’s face. She was so pretty, she lit up the room like a movie star. “It’s good you have his back.”

  Jocelyn moved a little closer. “If you make some sort of play for him, just know ahead of time that he doesn’t fall in love. I say this not out of jealousy but a little girl-to-girl advice. He’s a lot of man for a young girl like you. I’d hate to see you get hurt, that’s all.”

  Dia laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry. He’s not my type.”

  Jocelyn smiled sideways. “Oh, c’mon, Tallon is every girl’s type.”

  Dia shrugged and rolled her lips inward. “Not every girl.”

  Jocelyn smiled knowingly. “Oh, I think I get it. You’re not into guys, are you?”

  Dia rolled her eyes and looked away. “Not so much. Let’s just say you’re more my type.”

  “Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. Us girls would be better off, I think, without men. I guess I should have known.”

  “I guess… wait, why would you’ve known? Is it obvious?�
��

  “Well, I mean you were with Chloe. Are you two an item?”

  Dia was confused. “Why would you say that?”

  They both turned when Tallon stepped out of the back room and toward the bar.

  “How is she?” Dia asked.

  “Responsive,” Tallon replied. “She responds a little to my voice. But she’s still not fully awake.”

  “What’s up next?” Dia asked, feeling a little buzzed from the alcohol.

  “We talk to my ace in the hole.”

  Chapter 27

  Tallon waited at the intersection for Dia’s hands to rewrap tight around his waist before he gunned the throttle and tore off down the narrow lane. He picked up as much speed as he could, then cut the engine and lights and glided soundlessly past the rows of occupied shanties. At the last small house in the row, he saw the flickering candle in the window. He turned into the paved driveway and stopped.

  Tallon removed his helmet and listened. The people in these row houses weren’t violent. They were just squatters, transients for the most part, looking for a community. There was no organization out here in these parts.

  They quietly moved up the cracked sidewalk and under the overhang of the few steps that led to a small porch. Tallon knocked softly on the door and waited. Some muted sounds sprang up from the shack. “Alex,” Tallon said through the door, “open up.”

  After a few seconds Tallon heard the locks clack open, and the door swung inward. In this shadowy candlelight, Alex looked even darker than his mocha skin actually was. His large brown eyes narrowed in anger.

  “It’s about time,” Alex said.

  “It wasn’t my timeline.” Tallon turned and closed the door behind Dia.

  “Who’s the sidekick?” Alex raised his chin to Dia.

  “I’m Dia, and how d’you know he’s not my sidekick?”

  Alex laughed. “Hey, I like her, she’s good.”

  “Alex,” Tallon said, “I need to know everything.”

  “Oh, sure, now you want to know everything. You leave me in this hole for days on end in fear for my life.”

  “You should still fear for your life.”

  Alex flopped down into a tattered armchair. “You’re always the bearer of such positive vibes. You should be a motivational speaker.”

  Tallon and Dia sat on a wooden park bench across from Alex.

  Tallon said, “I know you weren’t lying to me.”

  Alex narrowed his eyes. “If it’s one thing you need to know about me, cupcake, it’s that I never, ever lie. I detest liars, and I would rather let demons suck my soul out through my eyes with straws than start lying now.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t believe you. I was wrong.”

  Alex looked at Dia. “He’s sorry? He was wrong?” He leaned forward in his seat. “What did you do to him? Did you neuter him? Did you take away his steroid cocktails and protein shakes?” He laughed. “Damn, that’s definitely not the book on Tallon Washburn. From what I know about you, you’ve never been sorry for anything in your entire life.”

  Dia raised her brow. “Things change, people change.”

  Alex shook his head. “No, people don’t change, not on their own. Things, however, do change, which forces people into usually reluctant change. We adapt or we die off.”

  Tallon put his hands together and rested his arms on his knees. “Alex, it is what it is. Cortech fired me. They went after my sister, and they got her.”

  Alex nodded. “I warned you.”

  “I know.”

  “So now you want to listen to me?”

  “I listened to you before.”

  “Exactly how did you listen to me? You put a gun to my head and forced me into this shack.”

  “You’re alive because I did listen to you. If I didn’t listen I would’ve pulled the trigger. And you stayed in this shack because you knew it was a safe place. I didn’t kill you, and I gave you a safe haven. I’d say that constitutes listening.”

  Alex nodded. “Fair enough. And I must admit having random hookers come around and check on me every day wasn’t the worst possible thing.”

  “I need to know everything.”

  “About the hookers? Well, I didn’t sleep with any if that’s what you mean.”

  Tallon sighed audibly. “No, not the hookers.”

  Alex smiled, clearly having fun with him. “Where do you want me to start?”

  “Start with Cortech. How deep does their reach really go?”

  “Cortech won the bid and bought themselves a city. When the election came up, and they heard the President was going to give ultimate power to the city mayors, Cortech went all-in on the New York City elections. They wanted this city. It’s the tip of the spear. It’s the most populated, and all the other cities are taking their cues from NYC. The government saw their power, and in needing a company to run their life path program, Cortech was tapped. I don’t think people understand how big Cortech really is. In twenty years, if we keep up on these life paths, they will control the world completely. Society won’t even know what hit it. Everyone will be eating their food, taking their drugs, and paying insurance to them for all of it.”

  “Who made the calls?”

  Alex bristled. “Your boss. Arlon McQuaid. He’s buddies with Mayor Schumer, and he’s buddies with Matt Murphy, the director of education and next in line. Once those three got in cahoots it was all over but the crying. Cortech has people on the payroll all the way up to the president.”

  “What about this Steering Committee?”

  Alex shrugged. “I have no clue who they are, and neither does anyone else. I know Arlon and the mayor bow to them. But you won’t get to them.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Dia interjected. “Why do the parents let their kids go on these drugs?”

  Alex shrugged. “They think it’s for the best. Parents don’t want to raise kids anymore. They think it’s better to let the schools and government do it. The kid misbehaves, and suddenly they have a disorder. They can’t quite concentrate and they have Attention Deficit Disorder, they can’t read as well as they should so they have Comprehension Development Disorder, they don’t listen, they have Oppositional Defiance Disorder, and the list just grows every day. If a kid has anything even slightly off from what the department of education wants, they get them onto a drug and they keep them there for life. They set them on the path they want. They feel that being on their path will assure a good future. They don’t want any wild teenage years, they don’t want experimentation with drugs or drinking. They don’t want mistakes. Parents are assured that this is the best way to give their kids a chance at a future in an uncertain world. They started paving this road many years ago, long before the collapse. The drug companies were already controlling us in some instances.”

  “But,” Dia asked, “what about kids who don’t have anything?”

  Alex reached over to the small table, picked up a piece of paper, and handed it to Dia. “This is what I’ve been working on. You’d think these kids, the ones who go undiagnosed, would be raised above and used as a shining example of what the world needs to aspire to. But instead they are pulled out of the schools under the guise that they’re being fast-tracked into a program. They become the problems, the free thinkers, the rebels. They’re the ones who can’t fit in. Lord knows what happens to them.”

  “You don’t know?” Dia asked.

  “That’s what I was working on. I was very close to finding out when your boy here busted in and killed my spies. At this point, it’s a lot of speculation and rumor. We don’t know anything for certain. But the whole thing is ugly, there’s an ugly truth here somewhere.”

  “My brother is undiagnosed. I broke into the city to save him, but he’s already gone from school and taken somewhere. I went to his foster parents and something was weird.”

  “They sold him,” Alex offered. “Well, it’s not as much a sale as it is a payout. The schools tell them they’re getting the kid into a special school
, and they give them a massive paycheck every month for keeping their mouths shut.”

  “Who would let their kids go like that?”

  Alex leaned back. “Let me guess, your parents gave your brother to a family that won the lottery.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they thought it was the best thing.”

  “So do these parents. Think about it. You’re told your kid is special, he’s smarter, better, or has some issue. He’s rebellious, can’t fit in, whatever they need to tell you to get you on board. Some kids make it easier, some they work for, but they tell the parents that the only way he or she is going to reach their potential is at this special school. Not only that, but they’re going to pay you big bucks for the privilege of teaching your child.”

  Dia shook her head. “But aren’t they suspicious when their kids end up dead?”

  Alex moved his head back in surprise. “Dead? Who told you they wound up dead?”

  “My father. I mean, that’s what everyone is saying.”

  Alex shook his head. “No, they’re not dead. They’re groomed.”

  Dia looked at Tallon, then back at Alex. “Groomed for what?”

  “That’s what I was trying to find out. My guess is they’re groomed for the greater good according to Cortech. But I know they’re being groomed for something specific, I just don’t know what.”

  “What could it be?”

  Alex shrugged. “I won’t even speculate, because I don’t know. But I believe they are being turned into some asset that can benefit Cortech.”

  Dia looked at Tallon. “Chloe knows.”

  Tallon sighed. She was probably right. Whatever Chloe was mixed up in might be the final piece to the puzzle. He asked of Alex, “What do you know about my sister?”

  “If she was in it, there’s one person who’ll know. But we don’t have much time. If you want to see her, we have to leave right away.”

  Tallon stood. “I’ll send Jocelyn to pick you up.”