by E. R. Arroyo
Of course, in order for Alyssa to reproduce, someone’s going to have to touch her. The thought makes me cringe, and I’m thankful for a brief moment I was chosen for Guard. If I don’t find a way to escape, at least I can play the part.
Chapter Three
When Alyssa and I get to the lawn where the colony is gathered, the air is nice and crisp, and I enjoy the wind on my cheeks. Cornelius’s body lies in a metal casket atop a platform. On the same platform, there’s a podium, which I assume Nathan will take to at any minute.
Alyssa scans the crowd, and I assume she’s looking for Dylan, same as I’m doing, but neither of us sees him. We find a place to stand near the back and settle in, hoping the assembly won’t take too long. The sun’s on its way down and once it’s gone, the temperature will drop fast. The dark gray clouds are just as heavy during the day as at night, but the sun is bright enough to penetrate them and warm the air. The moon and stars are distant memories; nobody’s been able to see them in years.
Around me, everybody seems to be nervous, yet solemn somehow, too. I understand why--I feel the same way. While Cornelius was by no means an ideal leader, he tried his best to be just.
I remember when he took me in. My father had been attacked by savages and an Antius convoy had picked me up. They were reluctant to bring me to the colony because, at the time, they couldn’t test for infection. Cornelius looked me over himself and determined I was fine. Nathan threw a fit, but Cornelius said, “She’s just a child, and she’s perfectly healthy.”
I cried as they dragged me from my lifeless father, but Cornelius held me in his arms the whole way back to Antius. Now I stand looking at his coffin from a long distance wondering if anyone held him as he drew his last breaths. I guarantee Nathan didn’t.
I tilt my head back so the pooling tears won’t fall. Nobody has seen me cry in years. That’s a gem I reserve for the privacy of my own room. I only have my own room, by the way, because I was deemed an unsuitable roommate when I was ten. Roommates actually share beds here and apparently I thrash. I’m better off alone, that’s for sure. Alyssa’s roommate is only nine. I can’t imagine sharing a bed with a little girl.
I hear a high-pitched squeal. At the podium, Nathan taps a microphone that’s amplified by overhead speakers--the same ones that blare the sirens and warnings.
“Today we honor a great man,” Nathan begins. “A man who spent his hard-earned resources to build a bunker. A man who brought in as many people as he could to ride out the war safely underground.” Nathan gestures to the compound around us, “He built this place for us. A safe place.”
We’ve all heard this story. By the time the chemical warfare reached its peak on American soil, half the country had already evacuated to other nations. Of those left behind, most were killed. The bombs were so powerful, entire cities were destroyed, and the land was left toxic. The people who were lucky enough to find room in bunkers survived. Those who left the bunkers too soon were infected by the chemical fallout that turned them into violent savages. I’ve heard rumors that the animals had mutated into altogether new things--monsters even.
Antius was born out of an underground group of survivors that had the means--thanks to Cornelius--to stay down long enough.
“Today we honor our gracious founder, 0001.” At that we all bow our heads, and no one makes a sound for what seems like hours.
When I open my eyes, Nathan is scanning the crowd and he makes eye contact with me for a split second before moving on to those around me. Honestly, what he said wasn’t so bad. But I know he’s not done, especially considering his half-smirk as he scans the crowd of people who are all mourning his father--something beneath him.
The kids, at least, cared for Cornelius. He was the only leader to ever spend time in the Underage facility. The adults, I’m not sure. It doesn’t seem like they care for much of anything. That’s something I definitely have not figured out in my time here.
Nathan takes a deep breath. He nods to a few soldiers who remove the casket and carry it to a fresh grave by the fence. They set the casket next to the grave and shove it inside, not bothering to keep it right-side up.
“What a disgrace, those brutes handling him that way,” I whisper to Alyssa. She frowns a little, and I keep my attention on the guards burying Cornelius as Nathan resumes his speech.
“As your new leader, I will continue to ensure safety and health. If you have not already learned so, I am a very different man than my father was.” Understatement of the decade. “As such a few things will change as we all settle into this great new era of our colony’s history.”
A few people here and there muster an applause. I can’t find it within myself, so I abstain. Finally, I force myself to look at Nathan, and his gaze is once again already on me.
“First order of business, we are lowering the age requirement for placement to seventeen. Effective tomorrow, every seventeen-year-old will be integrated into their pledged divisions.”
A collective gasp escapes the caretakers standing behind us. They didn’t see this coming, that much is clear. The weight of everything takes a moment to register, but then it hits me hard and fast.
It’s not just me he’s fast-tracking, it’s all of us. Dylan, Alyssa, and everyone else our age. I can’t help thinking this is all my fault. Alyssa will be bred like a pet, and Dylan will be moved into the science division. Although, it could be worse for Dylan, honestly, since he’s sure to thrive there. That department includes chemists, physicists, doctors, and inventors. Though he’s skilled at technology and innovation, he’s pledged to chemistry. Science is great for Dylan, truly, but if he goes down tomorrow, there’s no way he’ll be building my new pair of wings. There goes my exit strategy.
Alyssa is stunned, and I can’t think of a way to comfort her. The panic in her eyes makes me feel like she’s only a child, and I’ve forced her to grow up almost a whole year too soon.
With no closing, nor dismissal, Nathan leaves the stage and retreats to the underground facility where Dylan and I will be tomorrow. I try to find comfort in knowing we’ll still be under the same roof, but I know it will be infinitely more difficult to see or speak to him.
Right now all I can think about is the fact that Alyssa is about to be changed forever, and this might as well be our last night as friends. As the crowd starts to shuffle around and head back to their buildings, I reach down to grab Alyssa’s hand but stop short. I picture myself giving her a simple squeeze to let her know I care, and that I’m sorry, but I can’t make myself do it. I wish I could.
Dylan pushes his way through the crowd and a wave of relief takes me over. “Oh, thank God,” I say softly.
“What for?” he asks.
“Didn’t know if you made it out okay.”
“Out of where?” Alyssa looks perplexed. I didn’t bother telling her he’d visited my room because I thought she’d get the wrong idea. I wish I hadn’t said anything.
“I got questioned by some guards after lunch. They were asking about Cori.” I’m grateful but don’t really know why he’s lying. He’s probably ashamed.
“Oh,” she mumbles, “That’s terrible. What happened?”
“Guys,” I interrupt. “I’m s--”
“We know,” Dylan assures, not wanting me to finish the sentence anymore than I do.
We head back inside together, and I realize it’s already dark, and I’m freezing. Alyssa’s eyes float over to Dylan several times and I can’t imagine how much she’s going to miss him. I hurt for her, truly. Even though the outcome a year from now would have been the same as tomorrow’s, I somehow feel like I’ve taken their innocence in one fell swoop. Maybe in another time, in a another place, these two could have been happy together. Somewhere they would be allowed to touch each other, and allowed to love each other. A world where Nathan didn’t exist, and neither did I.
Perhaps everybody here is better off with me gone after all, like I’d always thought. I just wish I wasn’t making such a mess o
f things before I go.
At dinner, I sit at a table alone, growling at anyone who tries to join me. I barely eat--only a few bites of bread dipped in slush. I try hard to formulate some kind of plan but nothing comes to mind.
On the way to our rooms, I catch up to Alyssa and tug her into the restroom. She looks at my hand on her arm with her eyes bulging out and I let it go wondering if I grabbed her too hard.
“I...” I feel lost for words. “I’m sorry.”
“Cori, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong,” she tells me. It warms me inside out to have her affirmation, and I pull her into a quick embrace. At first she’s stunned, then wraps her arms around me, too.
“I’ll miss you,” I whisper in her ear, then pull away.
“Why do I feel like you’re saying good-bye?”
“I am.”
I’m restless tonight--my last night in this bed. I wonder what tomorrow will bring, and what the science division will be like for Dylan. Surely his integration won’t be as rigorous as mine. But it’s really Alyssa I’m worried about. I can’t think of any training that would need to go into reproduction--from what I understand it’s instinctual. I’m worried that she’ll wish she could change her mind, or that someone will hurt her. Will it be on her own terms? Will her first mate be kind?
Before I realize it, I’m pacing the floor like a caged animal. So many questions, and I’ll never know the answers because I’ll probably never see Alyssa again for more than a passing glance across a common area. I can’t talk to Dylan anymore, either.
I feel more alone now than I ever have. I thought that’s what I wanted, but the reality of it stings. I don’t think I really expected to be alone forever, eventually I would find another colony. They say no others exist, but we can’t be the only ones. Maybe escape was a childish dream--simply the whim of an adventurer. Perhaps I’ll thrive as a soldier, taking orders from Nathan Burke, but right now the thought sickens me.
I need to see Dylan.
I slide my dresser over and pull the vent open. Once inside, I put the cover back in place, ensuring the magnets have caught before I let it go. It doesn’t take long to make my way to Dylan’s vent, though I probably made more noise than I should have. I’ve never actually removed this vent before, so Dylan will have to remove it from the inside.
I’m not sure how to wake him up without making too much noise. The duct I’m in will carry sound to other vents and rooms, and straight to the guard on this floor. I sigh, realizing I haven’t thought this through.
“Cori?”
I squint, trying to make him out in the pitch dark.
“Cori, is that you?” he whispers again, a little louder this time.
“Yeah.” I’m frozen still.
“What are you doing?”
“I just wanted to see you--to talk to you, I mean.” I’m fumbling over my words.
“How do I let you in?”
“Can you reach the vent cover?” I ask.
“Yeah.” I see his hand suddenly right in front of the vent. He can reach it without standing on furniture. How did I never realize how tall he is?
“Here,” I say as I pass a tiny multi-tool through the vent with the screwdriver pulled out.
Dylan releases the screws and puts the vent cover on the floor. I slide through the vent legs first, and Dylan catches me with one arm around my middle and the other on my back. When I let go of the vent, Dylan shifts me with ease and sets me on my feet, though his hand still lingers on my lower back. My skin aches where he’s touching me and I wish I didn’t have to pull away, but I do.
I take a few steps across the room and turn to face him. I wish there was enough light to make out his expression, but I have no clue how he’s feeling or what he’s thinking--if he’s angry, if he’s hurt or sad.
Apparently he’s wondering what I’m thinking, too, because he asks, “Are you okay?”
I’m not sure how to answer that, honestly. I don’t know that I’ve ever been okay, or that I ever will be. “I want you to forgive me.” I lift my hands to plead, but I withdraw them when he steps toward me.
He stops himself before getting close enough to make me uncomfortable. “Cori, you have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I do. I really do. I did this to all of us. Nathan is punishing everyone because of me,” I say so fast I don’t even realize I’ve started to cry. I’m thankful it’s too dark for my tears to show, but I’m sure Dylan can hear them in my voice.
“I’m tired of grade school anyway.” He dips his head, his shoulders hunched forward. His hands are awkward at his sides, like he’s trying to keep them still. “I’m ready for more challenging work. And I can only imagine the technology I’ll have at my disposal. You haven’t done me a disservice. Really.” He says these pleasant things, but there’s something in his voice that sounds far from happy. He’s trying to make me feel better.
“But Alyssa,” I whimper, drawing my hand to cover my face.
He takes a moment to respond and I realize I’ve hit a nerve. “Alyssa’s going to be fine.” He sits on his bed.
“Stop it,” I say too loudly. We both pause and listen for movement, for footsteps in our direction. Nothing comes.
“Stop what?”
“Stop pretending everything is okay. Everything is not okay,” I say as quietly as I can. I turn toward the wall, with my forehead against the cold concrete. Everything is not okay.
He doesn’t respond, and I’m not sure what he could say anyway. Regardless, my words aren’t coming together.
I pace the room to get my thoughts going. “Maybe I can sneak out. I’ll run as fast as I can to the fence and just climb it. I’m a fast runner, a fast climber.” My head’s racing with details. But most importantly, the fence’s electric charge is formidable.
“You know you can’t do that,” he whispers, concern growing in his voice.
“I’ll wear gloves, good shoes.”
“Listen to me,” he growls, and I stop cold. “You’re not going to do that; you’d get yourself killed. No. You’re going to bide your time. You’re going to wake up in the morning, eat breakfast, and start your training. You need to prove yourself.”
I try to interrupt, but he stands and moves toward me, holding his hand in the air to stop me from talking.
“No. You earn their trust and try to get assigned to a convoy. Once you’re outside the safe zone, you can run. Do you understand?”
I mumble something that even I don’t understand.
“Yes?” he whispers. I didn’t realize he’d moved closer but he’s inches away from me.
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do?” he asks.
“Play the part. Wait till it’s safe.”
He nods and then stares at me for a moment. He seems sad and I can only speculate as to why.
“I’m going to miss Alyssa.” It comes out as barely a whisper. He nods again, still looking sad. Maybe that’s what he was thinking, too.
I feel his eyes burning into me, even though I can’t really see them. His breathing sounds heavier, faster. Have I upset him? He squeezes his fists, then kneels with his hands on his head. Watching his body react to sadness hurts me to the core--he’s my closest friend. I start toward him, not sure what I’ll do when I get there. He lifts his hand and reaches for mine, but merely grazes it instead of latching on. To my surprise, the swift gesture doesn’t bother me at all.
He finally regains his composure and slows his breathing before finally speaking. “I’ll miss her, too.”
Dylan helps me back into the vent and replaces the cover with my screwdriver. As he passes it back to me, he whispers, “Try to get some rest.”
When I return to my room, I plop onto my bed like I weigh a thousand pounds. Every single part of me feels exhausted and heavy, all except the very edge of my hand--the place where Dylan touched me. That part feels light as a feather. I think of his massive hand and gentle touch as I finally drift to sleep.
In my mind, Dylan’s hands fade into another pair, the hands of my father. They toil over loading a weapon with new ammunition while empty casings cover the floor. I am seven again, and I’m crying in a corner while savages pound on the building we hide in. He snaps the clip into the gun. “Let’s move.”
He stands and I follow as fast as I can. He begins to climb a metal ladder to the second floor. When he looks down to check on me, I reach for his hand, but he doesn’t grab it.
“You can do it by yourself,” he assures me.
I grit my teeth and grab rung after rung until we’re both securely on the second floor. I hear glass breaking below, and a savage hoots to rally the others. The staircase from the first floor has fallen in, but here on the second floor, it’s intact. We run up the stairs and the bag on my back feels heavier by the minute. The growls of the savages echo throughout the building and my tiny hands tremble.
After an eternity of stairs, my father pushes through a door and we spill out onto the rooftop. I trip on the threshold and scrape both knees. He grabs me just above the elbow and swoops me to my feet and away from the door before he slams it closed. He takes a quick survey of the buildings around us before deciding on the rooftop closest to us.
We jog to the edge and peer over. He ties a rope around my chest then gets a running start--with no warning to me--and jumps to the adjacent building. My heart is pounding so hard I can’t hear his instructions from the other side. He’s pointing to my back, I think. It must be the backpack.
I get a running start, like he had, and launch myself into the divide. I don’t even come close to reaching the other building and I’m crashing toward the brick wall. I twist my body to position the backpack between me and the wall right before I slam into it. The pack cushions the blow, and I feel my dad hoisting me up by the rope until my fingertips reach the roof’s edge.
