by Jim Miesner
To my wife Joy, daughter Abbie and son Zach.
You’re my inspiration.
CHAPTER ONE
2 Corinthians 5:17
The old has passed away, behold the new has come.
Sam hit the panel on her arm as the skin-tight white material that covered her body, rippled like the surface of a pond. As the waves moved along the material it disappeared and revealed her clothes underneath. She rubbed her fingers together feeling the material that her eyes told her wasn’t there. They said you got used to the invisible suit. She had heard stories in the department of some even forgetting they were wearing one and going to bed in it. She couldn’t see how that was possible though. She reached up and touched the dome that surrounded her head. Her fingers clicking against it told her it was still there.
Then Sam took one last deep breath before she pressed the panel on the wall and the door slid open in front of her into a bright white room. A girl with auburn hair scribbled on the floor with a green crayon. The only furniture in the room was a small white table where a bowl of gray mush sat with a spoon sticking straight up in the center. Even from this distance, the sight of it made her want to gag.
“Hello,” Sam said.
The girl’s head jerked up and the green crayon dropped from her fingers and rolled across the room until it came to a stop at Sam’s feet. She couldn’t have been any older than eleven. Sam bent down and picked it up.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said and held out the crayon.
The girl didn’t move. Instead, she clutched the picture tightly to her chest.
Sam sat down on the floor cross-legged and held out the crayon. “It’s okay,” she said. “Here. Take it, Jenny.”
Jenny looked at her, inched forward until she was within reach, snatched the crayon from her hand and rushed back to her spot again, where she turned and scribbled with her back to her.
“I need to go home,” said Jenny.
“I’m sorry. I know you miss your family.”
She looked at the untouched bowl of gray mush.
“Why aren’t you eating? Aren’t you hungry?”
Jenny shook her head side to side. “I don’t like it.”
“It tastes awful, doesn’t it?” Sam asked and smiled.
Jenny didn’t even give a glimmer of a smile.
“I don’t want to be here. I need to see my family.”
Sam sighed. “You need to eat first, Jenny, so you can get better. It will help you get clean. Afterward, we can talk about your family.”
Jenny looked down at her body. “I am clean.”
Sam laughed. “Why, yes you are, but this is a different clean. It’s called rehabilitation.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a treatment that takes care of people like you. People who have been exposed to bad things beyond the Shell. After a while, those people’s bodies need the bad things. In rehab, we help people’s bodies to stop needing the bad things. So, they can feel better, be better and live more productive, longer lives.”
Jenny furrowed her brow and pulled her arm away from the drawing. Two figures stood under a tree with red fruit on it as a long yellow creature hung from one branch. “You don’t understand. I need to get home,” she repeated. “My mother is waiting.”
“That’s an interesting picture,” Sam said as she slid closer to her. “Where did you learn that story?”
Tears welled up in Jenny’s eyes until one rolled down her cheek and struck the creature hanging from the branch. Her lips quivered.
“I’m trapped here, aren’t I?”
“Oh, Jenny,” Sam said and leaned in closer. “I assure you. Everything will be okay.”
“No, it’s not.”
“I promise it is,” Sam said and picked up the bowl.
“You won’t let me leave. No one ever leaves here.”
“That’s not true. If you would just try-”
“No!” Jenny yelled.
She raised her foot in the air and her heel came down on the edge of the bowl, which went bouncing along the floor end over end. Until it came to a rest on its side with most of the mush still in it.
Sam shook her head. “Why did you do that, Jenny?”
Jenny picked up a yellow crayon and drew a yellow ball in the sky.
“No one ever comes back,” she said. “You take people, but they never come back.”
Sam nodded and watched another tear roll down Jenny’s cheek and down her neck.
“I thought the same thing once,” Sam said. “When I was a little girl… It seemed scary then.”
“You’re not?”
“No.”
“They took you, too?”
Sam nodded and pulled out a large emerald pendant from the pocket of her suit, with the chain rusted, it looked like something from an archaeological dig. Carved into the surface was the image of a solar eclipse surrounded by twelve stars. She slid it across the floor until it came to a rest in front of Jenny.
“This is the only thing I have left from then.”
Jenny reached out for it. She looked up at Sam with tears still in her eyes.
“Open it,” said Sam. “Go ahead. Open it. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Jenny’s fingers shook as she lifted it up, and it popped open to reveal an image of a girl about half the age of Jenny. The girl had wild auburn hair just like hers, except this girl’s hair looked like a brush had never touched it. It was full of twisted knots, sticking out at different angles with twigs and leaves twisted in the tangles. One cheek was smeared with a big glob of dirt. Her dress clung to her shoulders, she should have grown out of it years ago, it had an assortment of so many patches it was hard to tell what was the original fabric. On her feet, toes sprouted from the ends of cut-off tennis shoes. Jenny’s fingers moved over the image. The girl stood on weeds that sprouted from the cracks in the rubble.
Then as she touched it, the image changed to show the girl cleaned up, wearing the same white shirt and pants that Jenny was in. In an empty white room, just like this one. The mud globs gone, her hair combed and put into a ponytail. In fact, with the hair pulled back, she could now see her green eyes, her freckles. She looked even more like Jenny. It was almost eerie. Next to her stood a gray-haired man in a white bio-suit with his arm around her shoulders. He had an awkward smile, and the girl stared at the floor with a frown.
“Is this you?” Jenny asked.
“Yes.”
“You look sad.”
“I was… at first. Jenny, I didn’t understand the gift I was being given back then, didn’t understand what was about to be open to me. It was hard to fathom until after I had the Sacrament. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
"What is the Sacrament?"
"It's hard to explain until after you’ve experienced it. You won’t see things the same way."
Jenny nodded. “The Sacrament will change me.”
“Yes. It will change everything. You’ll be better.”
“I don’t want to be better.”
“You’ll be free, Jenny.”
Jenny’s head perked up. “Free to leave?”
Sam put her finger on Jenny’s chest, careful not to touch her skin. “Free in here. Free from the hunger. From those feelings that rage inside of you and hold you back. Free to be who you were born to be.”
“Then I can go home?”
Sam ignored the question, turned and picked up the over-turned bowl. There was no smell through the suit but the look of it still gave her a nauseous feeling. She wanted to gag but held it back by tucking her chin into her neck and holding her breath. After the nausea passed, she turned back to Jenny and held out the bowl.
“Eat, Jenny.”
Sam took the spoon and held it
out for her. Jenny stared at it.
“Why do we have to eat this stuff?” she asked.
“It’s part of the Sacrament. It’s called an intermediary. It helps your body prepare.”
“How long till I can see my family again?”
The mush jiggled and Sam couldn’t help but hold her breath again. Jenny looked down at the bowl then back up at Sam.
“You’ll never let me go back again. Will you?”
“Jenny,” Sam said.
“I need to see my mother.”
“It can wait,” Sam said and reached out for her but Jenny pushed her away and, once again, the bowl went flying. She sprinted for the door and clawed at the thin seam that marked where it had slid closed.
“You’re losing her,” a voice said in Sam’s earpiece. “Let’s call it a day.”
“No,” Sam said and took a breath. “Just give me a second.”
She stepped toward Jenny as she continued to pound on the door.
“Jenny. I know it’s hard to understand but everything we are doing is for your good. We’re not here to hurt you or make you do anything you don’t want to do. We want you to be happy and healthy.”
Jenny’s lip quivered as she clawed at the wall. “I need to go.”
Sam nodded and knelt down beside her. “I know you want to see your parents, but understand the environment you’re from isn’t a good place. How you were living isn’t healthy. Or safe.”
“I don’t care,” Jenny sobbed. Some of her hair had come loose from her ponytail and stuck to her face where the tears had come. “My mom needs me.”
Sam reached out and wiped one away.
“I know your mom wants what’s best for you. We all do.”
Jenny pulled her face away and looked at Sam's hand. She grasped it before Sam realized what was happening. Jenny rubbed her fingers over the invisible plastic before and jerked her hand away before she looked up at Sam, horrified.
“Jenny, wait. I can explain,” she said as she reached out again, but Jenny shoved her backward and she felt her feet slip out from under her. When she scrambled back up, Jenny had already picked up the spoon and had it in the door as she slid it between the lining and pushed her full weight against it.
“Jenny, stop!”
The spoon bent at a ninety-degree angle, but she pried it open half an inch before it slipped open on its own, and two figures in baggy white plastic bio suits rushed in. Sam could see Jenny’s jaw drop in the reflection of their visors. Their respirators clicked in and out and then Jenny ran to the far corner of the room, her eyes darting in all directions.
“Wait,” said Sam.
She held out her hands to stop the figures in the white suits but they brushed right past her.
“It’s okay,” said Sam. “They aren’t here to hurt you.”
“No!” screamed Jenny. “Don’t touch me. I can’t stay here. My mom needs me!”
Each figure held a small white tube in their hand, their arms spread out like they were trying to corral a wild animal.
“It will be okay,” one of them said over the speaker on the front of their suit. “It's going to be okay.”
At the sound of this Jenny burst forward between them and got wrapped up in their arms. She kicked and flailed with tears in her eyes. One figure grabbed her under the arms while the other tried to grab her churning legs and was kicked to the ground. Jenny continued to flail as a foot smashed into the visor of the one on the ground, and a hiss of air escaped from a crack. The figure stumbled to their feet, clutching their face mask.
“Damn chewer,” they yelled and ran out of the room.
Jenny only froze a half a second in surprise, but it was enough time for the other figure to take advantage of the distraction and jab the white tube into her neck. She let out a little dog-like yelp and collapsed to the floor.
“Pick her up,” said a doctor in a white lab coat as he entered.
The white suit nodded, heaved her up over their shoulder and carried her out. The doctor in the lab coat looked at Sam with a smile. Aside from the hair that had turned from silver to white, he looked almost exactly as he had in the picture of Sam when she was a little girl.
CHAPTER TWO
“I had it under control,” Sam said. “If you just gave me a little more time.”
“You’ve had three days. Has she eaten anything?”
“No.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “She’s one of the toughest cases we’ve ever had, don’t take it personally. It’s not your fault.”
“It is. I shouldn’t have asked her about her past. How could I have touched her? It was so stupid.”
“You’re human. You make mistakes.”
“Tomorrow will be different. I won’t let you or her, down.”
The doctor pressed his lips together. “There won’t be a tomorrow.”
“What?”
“Jenny isn't suitable for the Sacrament.”
“What? You can’t... Why?
“She’s unpredictable, Sam. She's dangerous. She attacked you.”
“She didn’t attack me. She pushed me and I didn’t have my feet planted. Jenny's just a scared little girl.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry but she’s proved herself to be too emotional and too dangerous. She’s not a good candidate and I won’t take those risks, not with you or with the rest of the team.”
Sam felt a flush of anger well up inside her as sweat trickled down her brow. She wanted to yell at Dr. Tesla but she knew it wasn’t his fault she was pissed, it was hers. Jenny’s future hung in the balance and she had failed her.
“It would have been better if they didn’t barge in here dressed in those stupid visible suits,” she muttered.
The doctor nodded his head. “Let me focus on Jenny and the team. You focus on your studies.”
“Please. I can reach her. I just need more time. Just a few more days.”
The doctor sighed. “I knew this would happen. I shouldn’t have brought you in. Of course you would get attached.”
“I’m not attached.”
“I know you want to help her, but this isn’t helping Jenny. She doesn’t belong here. She’s not like you, me and the others, Samantha. Some just aren’t meant to be a part of the Covenant. You need to realize that and move on. There will be more candidates. More children to save.”
“Please. This isn’t about me. I just need a few more days. A few more days and I can get her to see the truth. We’re talking about this little girl’s future. You can’t send her back there. It’s chaos outside the city. She’ll be lucky to make it to her next birthday.”
“Some animals are meant to be in cages and others aren’t.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Jenny’s unpredictable. I’ve seen feral animals with more restraint. She’s not meant for our world. That’s why it’s the child’s choice to take the Sacrament or not. Besides you should be studying for your exams, not spending all your time here.” He waved his hand in the air. “I should never have let you volunteer for this. They told me it was a bad idea.”
Sam blew back a lock of her hair that had come undone from her bun. “You called me a feral animal once, too.”
The doctor smirked. “I know. You are the reason we use two guards at the doors.”
“Why can’t we afford Jenny the same opportunity?”
Dr. Tesla sighed. “You know the department's stretched thin these days between the children and our other projects. There is only so much attention we can give to each one. It’s not fair to the others to devote this much time to Jenny. We have a lot of kids to save.”
“Please. I'm asking you as a favor to me. Just a few days. I won’t neglect my studies.”
Dr. Tesla bit his lip and looked down at the food bowl overturned on the floor. He picked it up and spun it around as he examined it before he handed it to her.
“I’m sorry but my answer is no.”
“But Dr. Tesla-”
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br /> “I said no, and that’s final. Do you understand, Samantha? Answer me.”
She nodded her head, and he pressed his lips together before he walked back to the doorway, stopped and turned around.
“You need to let it go, Samantha,” he said and pressed his fingers to his arm.
A little wave of particles rippled across his arm from the point he touched. The white plastic material appeared trailing behind the wave. The particles culminated at the top of his head where a domed helmet appeared.
“What did Jenny mean?” Sam asked.
“What?”
“She said no one ever comes back.”
“I can assure you some do,” he said before he turned, clicked the door open and slid it closed behind him.
A moment later a shower of steam fogged up a little window at the top of the door. Sam walked up to the window and looked at her reflection in it. It was the same green eyes, auburn hair and freckles she saw every day in the mirror. It was the same plain white uniform that she wore every day, the same uniform almost everyone wore. She touched her arm and the particles spread out again, revealing the suit and the domed helmet that she wore.
Sometimes she didn’t recognize the person behind those eyes. It was almost as if a stranger was staring back. What had happened to that little girl she once was? The door clicked open and broke her train of thought. The steam floated into the room and water vapor immediately began to condense on her helmet. Sam rubbed it away. Then she stepped into the room as the door clicked closed behind her, and held out her arms as the jets of hot steam rushed over her. The warmth and pressure felt good as they blasted across the suit. Water rolled over her helmet like she was behind a waterfall, she thought, though Sam had never been near one, at least not one she could remember.
She couldn’t get Jenny out of her mind as she thought about her future and what it meant for her to be sent back out there. How could Dr. Tesla give her a chance one moment, and then give up on her so easily in another? It didn’t make sense. Dr. Tesla knew that world outside better than anyone else. It was a hopeless place. Disease, starvation, slavery, lawlessness; it was no place for a child. How could he send her back out there? Even if that’s what she wanted. She was just a kid, she couldn’t understand what was best for her. To spare one child and not another didn’t make any sense.