Oasis

by Eilís Barrett

  ‘Take her away,’ the supervisor orders, glaring at me. Two Officers immediately catch my arms, and I look up at them in terror.

  ‘What?! I didn’t do anything wrong!’

  The supervisor eyes me calmly. ‘You quoted a terrorist slogan. You’re under suspicion of being a threat to Oasis and its citizens. You will be contained until evidence is provided otherwise.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything!’ I scream, pulling my arms free of the Officers. Another one jumps forward, trying to grab me from the front, but before I know what I’m doing my fist is connecting with her face, and she’s sent reeling into a table. She bounces back faster than I expected, launching herself at my waist, sending us both crashing to the floor.

  I can feel the other Officers dragging at me, trying to pull me away, but I’m more concerned with this Officer’s fist cracking into the side of my face. I take her arm, twisting my hips as I launch her over to the left, using the momentum to land on top of her, my elbow connecting with her right cheek before I’m pulled away by two of her colleagues.

  One of the Officers pushes me back against a wall, flipping me around and smashing my face against the wall as he handcuffs me.

  ‘Get off me!’ I scream, just before I feel a sharp pain in my neck, and the world fades to black.

  8

  I wake up to the sound of slamming doors and someone shouting, and I sit up so fast I hit my head against the bars above me. I blink at the white-washed room in confusion as I’m overwhelmed with the sense of wrongness all around me.

  And then I remember. The lights cutting out, the message, the lockdown, the fight, and then … nothing.

  They must have used some kind of sedative to stop me from fighting back.

  I look down at my bleeding knuckles, and my stomach drops. What have I done? Even if I’m proven innocent of the power cuts, I assaulted an Officer of Oasis. I’m guilty of that much at the very least.

  I look around the small containment zone as I try to steady my breathing, wondering how much longer they’ll keep me here before shipping me off to a prison somewhere. Three of the walls are plain grey concrete, but one is made of celian. It’s two-way, not like at the power station, which means the inmates can watch the Officers watching them.

  But there’s no one here.

  Just as I think that, someone storms into the hall beyond my containment zone, all blue eyes and blazing rage.

  Aaron.

  I can’t hear him from inside the glass, but I can see him ordering another Officer to open the door, and when he does Aaron is inside immediately, closing the door behind him.

  His shoulders rise and fall as he turns towards me, barely containing the anger that I can feel rolling off him, and I take the smallest step back.

  ‘What the hell did you think you were doing?’

  ‘Aaron, I—’

  ‘They’re telling me you’ve been arrested for suspected treason and assault. Not only that, they’re telling me that you’re a Subject. Do you know what that means?’

  ‘Aaron, please, just let me explain—’

  ‘DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?’

  I cringe at the sound of his voice.

  ‘Yes,’ I whisper, trembling all over. ‘I know what it means.’

  He turns away from me, running his hand through his hair, and I’m not the only one shaking.

  ‘You’re going to get yourself killed,’ he says, his voice unsteady. ‘Do you realise that? Do you realise that you’re playing with your life?’

  ‘Aaron, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.’

  ‘About what, Quincy? The Selection, or you attacking an Officer? Because the first one I can understand, but what in the name of Oasis possessed you to attack an Officer?’ The revulsion in his voice is as evident as it is absolute, and my chest squeezes tightly, tears springing to my eyes.

  He pushes a breath out through his nostrils, closing his eyes as he realises his mistake.

  ‘Listen, I’m sorry for shouting, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you.’ He runs his hands over his face in frustration.

  I sit down on the bunk-bed that’s pushed up against the wall, leaning my elbows against my knees as I try to think straight.

  ‘It’s not like there’s anything they can do to me, Aaron. I’ve already been Selected – there isn’t anything else they can do.’

  ‘They’re pushing up your transfer date,’ he says, his voice dead.

  ‘What?’

  ‘They’re transferring you next week.’

  ‘How is that possible? They can’t do that, they have to give me one month’s notice.’

  ‘Not if you’re a public menace.’

  ‘A public menace?’

  ‘You attacked an Officer of Oasis for no reason.’ Aaron isn’t even looking at me anymore.

  ‘They were going to throw me in containment for something I didn’t do!’ I argue, but my anger is lost in my fear.

  ‘I’m going to fight this, Quincy, but there’s only so much I can do.’ He looks at me now, but the disappointment in his eyes makes me wish he didn’t.

  ‘Aaron.’ I stand up, reaching for him, and I don’t know which of us I’m trying to comfort.

  ‘Don’t,’ he says, pulling his hand away from me. ‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you anymore.’ He closes his eyes briefly, then motions for the Officer to let him out, and leaves without another word.

  I fall back onto the bed, my head in my hands, my heart racing, and I can’t breathe. The only thing I can think about is that look on his face, that I’ve seen on so many people’s faces, so many hundreds of people have looked at me like that, but Aaron never did, not ever for a second.

  He looked disgusted.

  9

  I’m pacing. And seething. I feel it like oil beneath my skin, thick and black and ugly, and I’m too exhausted to try and stop it from sinking deeper.

  How dare they? How dare they try to take everything from me? How dare they turn him against me?

  This was not my choice. I didn’t want this life, I didn’t want to be a Subject, I didn’t want any of this.

  But I never had a choice.

  I pound my fist against the celian window, screaming at the top of my lungs.

  When he left, I couldn’t hold it together. I was watching my life fall apart, piece by unwilling piece, until I was left with nothing.

  But eventually pain turned to anger, and anger to rage, until all I could think about was getting out. Out of everything. I’m done. I am done with this cell, with my useless job, with the Dorms, the Outer Sector.

  I slam on the celian wall and scream until my throat is raw, but no one shows their face.

  Aaron is gone, and no one can hear me.

  ‘Up,’ a gruff voice announces, dragging me from the corner and pushing me towards the door.

  I stumble forward, trying to regain my balance as I blink the sleep from my eyes. I must have fallen asleep at some point, but I can’t remember it.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I ask, putting my hands up between me and the Officer.

  ‘You’re being released,’ he says. ‘Give me your hands.’

  I do, slowly, watching him suspiciously as he takes them. A pair of automatic handcuffs snap across my wrists, adjusting to the size of my arms as they tighten, and he takes a step back.

  ‘I thought you were releasing me!’ I tug my hands back, twisting them as if I can pull myself free.

  ‘Protocol,’ he says. ‘Now let’s go.’ He jerks his gun in the direction of the exit, a silent reminder he’s the one in control.

  I swallow, trying to push back the memories of my dream, and take a tentative step towards the door. My eyes sweep the hallway, looking for him, for Aaron, but I can’t see him anywhere.

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ the Officer growls, pushing me forward.

  I don’t know why, but I was sure he would be here. I was sure he’d turn up, no matter how angry he was. But there’s no one
in this hallway, or the next, or on the stairs leading up into the main building. When I’m being processed, I scan my ID card when I’m told to, and the Officer attending to the records presses her lips together as she watches me from behind her desk. Her dark eyes flick over my dirty Dorm uniform as she hands me my personal items, her lip drawn back in a sneer.

  I pull the plastic bag towards me, but my cuffed wrists won’t allow me to do anymore. I hold my hands up towards the Officer behind me, but he just shakes his head, pushing my hands away.

  ‘Not so fast,’ he says. The Officer behind the counter hands him a small black box. He catches my left arm, pushing up the sleeve of my uniform to reveal my bare shoulder.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I ask, my voice trembling, but he doesn’t respond.

  From the black box he removes a small metal object, flicking a button on the side. The end of the object begins to glow red. I tug at the Officer’s grip, my heart like a kick drum in my chest.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Again he doesn’t respond, and suddenly the skin on my shoulder is burning, the smell of searing flesh entering my nose as a scream is torn from my lungs. I drag at his hold, but he’s too strong, and his arm is wrapped around my waist, holding me in place.

  Finally he releases me, and I fall forward, my knees cracking against the tiled floor as tears run down my face. I scramble backwards, and I can’t catch my breath or steady my hands and adrenaline feels like knives up my rib cage and they’re just standing there, watching me, indifferent.

  He slams shut the lid on the black box with his left hand, passing it back to the Officer behind the desk.

  ‘You were Branded as a public menace.’

  ‘Public menace?’ I can hear the hysteria rising in my voice. I lean my hand behind me, my fingers trembling as I touch the mark, hissing as pain rips across my neck and down my arm.

  ‘It’s just protocol.’ He shrugs, his body language nonchalant, but I can see the gleam in his eyes, the vicious satisfaction lurking there.

  I pull myself against the wall, stumbling towards the door.

  ‘You forgot—’ he starts, but I’m already gone. I’m already out and down the steps and running through the streets. Tears burn my eyes and I try to blink them away, but there’s always more waiting to fall. There’s always one last punch, waiting to land.

  10

  Two hours later, I find myself where I always find myself: sitting on a pile of scrap a quarter mile from the Dorms, watching the Celian City, the world I always wanted.

  But it doesn’t feel like that anymore.

  I tear the sleeve off my uniform, struggling to rip the fabric without my knife. When I was unconscious they found the knife hidden within the secret pocket in my jacket, and held it as evidence.

  If it wasn’t for Aaron, I wouldn’t have been released at all.

  I finally manage to rip the sleeve from my uniform, pulling it away from the blistering flesh of my shoulder. The mark is angry and red and swollen, and tears spring into my eyes as the cold air hits it.

  I have five days left until I’m transferred to the testing facilities. Five days left to find a way out of this mess. I’m scrambling for ideas, trying to find a way to fix this without ruining everything else in the process, but I’m not sure if I have anything left to ruin. Aaron is gone, and I can’t tell if he’s coming back. I can’t tell if I’m worth coming back for anymore.

  I hear something moving behind me and I jerk around, my eyes immediately searching for something to use as a weapon.

  But it’s only a child. The girl from the Dorms with the too-big eyes and the stupidity to help me with my bag.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I growl, pushing myself up into a half-squat.

  ‘I was looking for you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I know what happened,’ she says calmly, climbing the pile of rubble.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I try to cover up the Brand, but I’ve already ripped the sleeve off, and there’s nothing I can do.

  Once you’re Branded, the Officers see you as a target. I thought I could cover it up, hide it from them, but if this girl plans on ratting on me, I’ll be dead before they have the chance to ship me out to the Labs.

  ‘I know what happened at the power station today,’ she says, sitting down beside me. I nudge backwards on the heap, a jutting piece of scrap metal digging into my back as I go.

  ‘How—’

  ‘Everyone was talking about it. The power cuts, the messages, all of it.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘The message that they put up on the screen? I know what it means.’

  My blood freezes in my veins.

  ‘You’re insane,’ I say, because she has to be. Like that girl with the dark hair who stabbed the new girl the other day. It happens all the time. We all go a little bit crazy out here. You watch the smoke and the filth and the desperation all around you, and eventually it gets inside your head, too.

  ‘No I’m not. I knew it was gonna happen.’ Her blue eyes are steady and unwavering and eerily calm as she speaks, never breaking eye contact, not even for a second. ‘I’ve been waiting for it.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ I try to sound like I’m ridiculing her, but my voice comes out quiet and shaky.

  ‘My father told me it was gonna happen, that the ones on the Outside would get in eventually.’

  ‘Outside what?’

  ‘Outside the Wall,’ she says quietly.

  ‘There’s nothing outside the Peace Wall.’ My mouth says the words before I’m sure I believe them.

  ‘How do you know? How do you know there isn’t loads of stuff outside the Wall? The Wall is there so we can’t see, so we can’t know what’s happening Outside.’

  I go quiet.

  ‘Without light, there are no prisoners. That’s what they said, isn’t it?’

  I swallow.

  ‘They’re going to cut the power from the Outside. It’s the fence that’s keeping us in. Once the electricity is cut, we can get out. You can get out, before you’re taken to the Labs.’

  I stand up, suddenly shocked back into reality. This girl is crazy.

  ‘No,’ I say, sliding down the pile of rubble past her, my heart pounding. ‘That’s not going to happen.’

  She leaps up and follows me, even as I start winding down the streets, back towards the Dorms.

  ‘Quincy, listen—’

  ‘Stop,’ I say, turning on her. ‘Don’t you dare. You do not know me. I do not know you. End of story.’

  She drops her head to the side, as if she can’t understand my frustration with her. I refuse to say anything, but I can feel the silence between us like a physical weight.

  ‘10/12/0000, the code at the bottom of the screen? That’s a time and date. The tenth of the twelfth, midnight.’

  ‘How do you even know that that’s true? It could have meant anything.’

  ‘Because my father knew. He told me how to get out when the time came, if he wasn’t there to help me.’

  I glance down at her for a millisecond, her small face finally turned away from me. Sometimes memories are more painful than reality.

  I grind my teeth, trying to figure out a solution as I walk.

  ‘The supervisor told us it was terrorists,’ I say, but even my own voice sounds weak.

  ‘They also said you were a terrorist, right?’

  I look at her sharply, and she points at my arm. I reflexively move to cover it up, but I can’t – it’s too painful.

  ‘They’re lying to you. They’ve been lying to you your whole life. We need to get out now, or we’ll never get the chance again.’

  ‘There is no we,’ I say, stopping in the middle of the road. The Dorms are right ahead of us, and the gates are going to shut in a matter of minutes. ‘I don’t know what kind of crazy conspiracy theorist your father was, but he’s probably in a mental asylum somewhere now, so you need to forget
what he told you. Someone is breaking into the mainframe to scare people; there is no “Outside”. Now leave me alone, okay?’

  I begin walking away, but before I get out of ear shot, she shouts back to me.

  ‘He’s not in an asylum, he’s dead. They killed him because he knew, and they’re coming for me next.’

  11

  I sit up suddenly in the middle of the night, my blood pumping as I try to get a bearing on my surroundings. My breathing slows as I look around the room, everything familiar, everything exactly the same as always.

  But something inside me drops.

  I dreamt I had escaped. Or at least, I dreamt I wasn’t here anymore. I dreamt of open fields and blue skies and clean air and someplace warm to go at night. I dreamt of other people, smiling people, none of them Dormant or Pure, just people. Happy people.

  I shudder and fall back against the wall behind me. It’s damp, and there’s mould on the walls and the window doesn’t close properly, and suddenly all of these tiny imperfections are smothering me.

  I tighten my fists in the blanket thrown over my knees, trying to tell myself it’s a stupid idea. I have no way of leaving, no one does, and even if I did, I wouldn’t survive a day outside. The girl is crazy, and everything she said was a lie. But my mind is turning it into possibilities that don’t exist.

  What if she isn’t, and it’s all true, and I end up dying in here because I was too afraid to go out there?

  I grind my teeth, banging my head on the wall behind me, trying to stop the tears that are threatening to fall. I’m being stupid. I’m getting upset over something I shouldn’t have been thinking of in the first place. But there’s this voice in the back of my head saying things I wouldn’t dare to say out loud.

  Like, maybe it’d be worth it. Because maybe leaving and dying out there is better than staying and dying in here, at some undisclosed location in the Labs, just another Subject dying for the sake of the Cure.

  12

  I turn up to the power station the next day in a stained and ill-fitting uniform jacket. After ripping up the only spare shirt I have to use as a bandage for my burn, I had to come to work in an old uniform I grew out of, all because I stupidly tore the sleeve off the other one after I was Branded.