Glitch

by Brenda Pandos

  Warmth rushed through me while under the gaze of this mysterious guy and my brain filed through all the faces of my potential mates online. His was one I’d definitely remember, especially with those eyes, and yet this was the first time I’d seen him. How did he escape my stalking? Was he on the unapproved list because of his blue eyes? From another province perhaps? One thing was for sure: he most definitely wasn’t a zombie.

  “Here.” He reached for me and clasped my hand. His grip was strong and warm as he pulled me to my feet. But there was something between our palms, something flat, yet stiff with pointed edges.

  He squeezed my hand hard and leveled me with a convicted look. I felt a rush of blood hit my cheeks when he held on a little too long.

  “What is this?” I peered into his anxious eyes. Did he expect that I should know him? What was between our hands?

  “Shhh—” he said, cautiously. “I just—need to tell you—”

  He looked around nervously, then dropped my hand when the shouts of my teammates called from the ridge.

  “Abby?” I heard Elle scream above the rest. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I called while my heart revved to a sprint. I fingered the thing he’d given me, trapping the evidence inside my palm, as my chest filled with terror. My mouth opened and shut, then I scanned the trees for hidden cameras. If I was caught with what I’d suspected he’d given me, we’d be arrested, no questions asked.

  The strange, cute guy moved backward into the trees, blending in with his grey and black clothing. I wanted to ask him where he was going. The only thing echoing in my head was the Civilian Handbook.

  Rule 6.1: Paper is illegal. To not make, manufacture, or use paper in any way. Report all violations of this law, or suffer a year in prison.

  The sweat in my palm softened the pointed edges of the note. If I kept my hand closed, the EA wouldn’t see. But then how could I read what it said?

  “Abby?” Elle screamed again. “Where are you?”

  I moved away from the guy and back toward a trail leading up the side of the ravine to the field in a rush, panicked over the paper, panicked over everything.

  “I’m coming.” I warred with a weird sense of being torn. My numb feet stumbled forward, knowing the correct response would be to run and report him. Another part of me wanted to help him. He wore vintage clothing from the pre-zombie era and black Converse shoes I’d kill for and had only seen in the museums. Where in the heck did he get his hands on paper? And why would he trust me with it? One quick glance at his wrist—no DOD watch. I wanted to ask him, but then I knew the EA was listening. Time ticked on slowly as we looked questioningly, into one another’s eyes.

  When I looked up the trail once again, my teammates’ feet were rushing toward me, stirring up dirt everywhere. I turned back to the guy one last time, but the blue eyed stranger was gone.

  His note, though, burned in my palm. And then, as the girls rushed down the trail toward me, terror flooded me. If I were caught, I’d be detained for who knows how long. I moved to the tall grass, stooped over to pick up my glove and stuffed the note under a shiny black rock, praying no one would notice.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Careful to remain under the cloak of darkness, I sucked in the precious air and pulled the black hoody tight around my face. Feeling naked without my DOD watch on, I quickly scanned the softball field for signs of life. If anyone caught me here, I’d have a lot of explaining to do. That was if the undead didn’t get me first. I shuddered and pushed away the thought.

  I’m safe. There’s been no sightings in years, I reminded myself. Besides, I had to go. I had to know what the note said.

  Sneaking along the edge of the field, I darted stealthily in the shadows, fighting the cold. The chilly February night was in direct opposition to the unseasonably warm day we’d had earlier, yet I couldn’t get Blue Eyes out of my mind—his clothes, his shoes, his eyes, his illegal paper. And no matter how hard I tried or as stupid as breaking curfew and sneaking out was, I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until I knew what the note had said.

  Across the street, Elle’s brother Landon’s bedroom light beamed from the swanky remodeled apartments, perks of being a top security monitor for the EA. Courage burned through my veins as something he’d said replayed in my mind. The reason the EA insisted on everyone wearing their watches at all times was because cameras had difficulty deciphering people’s faces in the dark. He’d know, with all the sneaking and breaking of rules that he did. I never broke the law, ever. One, for fear of getting caught, and two, for having the stress take years off my life.

  There was something in the way Blue Eyes looked at me that I couldn’t shake. The huge risk he took to transfer this information to me, one the EA couldn’t intercept and why paper was illegal in the first place, drove me mad with curiosity. Giant computers in the EA shrines held all interactions between people, conversations recorded by DOD and messages off people’s flat screens, and only through a warrant were those private interactions allowed to become known. Of course Landon said that was bullshit, which is why I’d removed my watch before sneaking out.

  My heart thumped as I looked over my shoulder toward the street. Landon’s apartment overlooked the field and if he spotted and reported me, or my mother found my unattended watch next to my flat screen, playing a recording of me sleeping in the background, I’d be dead. Though we lived in a crime-free society, she’d send everyone on a hunt to find me. I’d be arrested and forced to talk. Then they’d implant a DOD band on me—one I couldn’t take off, ever. I would be branded a criminal.

  Bands of light from the security tower tried to penetrate the dense trees and the proof of what I’d destroyed with my fly ball came into view. Wow. I’d knocked the container off its hinges. But where was the gun? Had I knocked that off, too? And why hadn’t anyone come to repair it?

  I stepped into the tree line, feeling a cold rush of bitter wind cycle through the grasses and around my ankles. Hugging my arms to myself, I traversed the path from earlier, my feet stumbling in the darkness. My mind began to wander. What if a zombie could sneak over the wall now that there wasn’t a functioning gun? Were they smart enough to climb? I inhaled, sniffing for rotted flesh, and trudged down the path quickly. The dank dust flooded into my nostrils as my heart raced harder. A rustle in the leaves made me freeze. With wide eyes, I choked down the bile and held my breath, anticipating a feral groan. The walking dead, according to the survival manual, only reacted when they saw living flesh or smelled blood, but you weren’t to tempt fate.

  Rule 21.2: If you’re in need of help, press your emergency button and call for backup immediately, especially in an attack with the undead.

  Of course, without my watch on, that wasn’t a possibility for me.

  I waited, and after hearing nothing else, I continued down to the end of the trail. Zombies didn’t know to hide or be quiet, but I didn’t want to bring attention to myself with a flashlight. Barely able to see the path, let alone a miniscule slip of illegal paper, I knelt down with a wish and a prayer.

  Brushing my hands through the grass, hoping spiders and bugs kept far away from me, I searched. My thigh throbbed in pain from the fall earlier, as I scoured helplessly for the rock. It had to be here.

  Where is it?

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the gleam of black in the moonlight. I reached for it, counting my blessings, when something large scuttled through the brush behind me. I squeaked, snagged the rock and slip of paper, and straightened my legs. Holding my breath, I stared to the other side of the dry creek bed toward an illusive dark shape standing at the base of the giant stone wall. I cocked my arm back, ready to pelt whatever it was with the rock. A breeze blew in from the spot, bending back the grasses toward me, revealing it wasn’t a person, but a hole in the rock wall. Then a flash of white scooted past on the other side.

  A grunt followed.

  My heart leapt into my throat and I sprinted up the trail before
I could think. The moan of what had to be a zombie filled my ears. Quelling a scream, I ran to the field, still staying out of the light. I cleared the fence and turned, my chest heaving. The nighttime noises took a backseat to the blood pulsing heavily in my ears. I scanned back and forth, but nothing came out of the trees. I waited to be sure as guilt snaked through me. The most responsible thing would be to report a sighting, but that would mean admitting I was breaking curfew. Maybe I’d just imagined what I’d heard.

  Unsure what to do, I ran to the street to find an overhead light. I unfolded the damp note sticking to my palm.

  Scrawled in charcoal, I read, “Don’t meet your future self tomorrow. Please.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The next morning, I stood before the mirror, using cornstarch tinted with cocoa to hide a scratch on my cheek, evidence of my romp in the woods. I’d French braided my hair twice, since the first time my hand shook, loosening the braid. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from whirring. Luckily a sighting hadn’t hit the news like I’d expected, which meant I’d imagined things. The fact the stranger knew so much about me scared me to my core. Theories that the EA was testing my loyalty ricocheted through me. Would I arrive today to a disciplinary hearing instead of a meeting with my Compliment? Would videos of me disobeying the law multiple times scroll over the screens from their blue eyed plant?

  My stomach pinched as I imagined Elle’s brother, Landon there. I could already see his mischievous crooked smile before the interrogation started. But still, it wasn’t like I couldn’t go. My absence would look suspicious, especially if I’d been seen last night. No. I had to pretend all was perfectly fine. If not, the EA might think I’d defected to the Emancipated Society and demote Dad from his pristine EA job as a scientist to something menial.

  I readjusted the watch on my wrist once again. Oddly, my DOD hadn’t registered much of a change, surprising since I’d broken the law, only slept two hours, and hid Blue Eyes’ warning inside my bra, of all places. When I couldn’t sleep after returning home, I spent the rest of the night investigating every province for a guy matching his description. And as I suspected, the very few I found weren’t in my net circles and ineligible as a match for me. It wasn’t a secret the EA wanted to purge blue eyes from future generations, saying they had a propensity to disease and illness, but seriously, this guy had to live somewhere. Where’d he come from? And how had he kept hidden from the population classification? He couldn’t be from the zombie zone. Could he?

  “You ready?” Mom beamed at me with her chipper smile.

  Startled, I dropped my toothbrush into the sink. “I think so.”

  Mom put her hands on my shoulders. “It’ll be fine, just like we rehearsed.”

  I knew what her implication of “ready” meant. She’d explained everything to me in detail several times. That I’d go to the EA building on 6th Street. Check in. Plug in my watch next to my name and wait to be called. Once my Compliment arrived, the meeting would start. But like she’d explained, typically, one’s Compliment came early. I’d hoped so. If not, I’d most likely lose a year each minute I had to wait.

  She slowly smoothed a stray hair into place, her eyes losing focus. She chuckled, the kind that said she was hiding something. Having been born before DOD watches were invented and Advice Meetings a norm, Mom had never had this experience. Just turning thirty-eight herself, I wondered what advice she would have given if she had the chance.

  “Why don’t you get to be a Compliment?” I asked.

  Mom sucked in a quick breath and froze for a moment. “Let’s save the questions for after your meeting, okay?”

  I turned around to face her, determined. “But shouldn’t you and everyone else that’s thirty-eight be advising yourselves? To be better people, better parents? To perfect our society?”

  Mom stared at me for a moment, her eyes glassy. “You’d think so, but… sometimes it’s wise to work on one set of problems at a time.”

  “So my generation is the problem?”

  “No, I didn’t say that—”

  “Well, if your generation did things so perfect, why are all the kids messed up?”

  “Abby.” Mom tilted her head, sliding into serious mode. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. I trust the EA has a handle on this and we don’t need to advise the future. Life was much different after The Attack, something I’m so glad you never had to experience.” She absentmindedly rubbed at the horrible scar on her forearm—evidence of her immunity against the virus that wiped out the world—evidence she wasn’t part of The Chosen.

  After the outbreak had occurred, The Chosen—consisting of friends and family of the Brighton’s—were given an oral antidote and ushered into safety. Once the supply ran out, only healthy individuals that promised to contribute to society were allowed, that was if they survived the inoculation. Luckily, I’d acquired antibodies to the virus from my mom. She’d only been given a chance because Dad convinced someone in the government that she’d be an excellent addition.

  She pressed her lips together. “I know it’s easy to take that for granted and try to work around the system…I get it that you might want to rebel a little.”

  “Rebel?” I snorted. “We have computers and the technology to keep track of things and…” I sighed in frustration. “You should feel cheated you’re not part of the process. I mean, why wait? Our lives could be refined into something better than we have now.”

  Mom’s eyes glistened and she pulled me into a hug. “You’re a dreamer just like your father… I think things are pretty perfect.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Come on, I’m serious.”

  “No, honey.” She let me go and clasped her hands around mine. “These are good questions, ones I’m sure your father can answer, and why I’m so proud of you.”

  I smirked. Whenever I asked deep questions, she’d launch into a tirade of how smart I was. “You’re not going to cry, are you?”

  “Of course not.” She wiped at her cheek and walked into the hall. “Okay, maybe a little. But we should go or you’ll keep your Compliment waiting.”

  I shook my head and followed. I’d almost forgotten about what was about to happen. Maybe Mom was right. Maybe asking Dad was a better idea, if he came home at a decent hour.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Once I found a seat on the trolley, I wiped my hands on my skirt before waving goodbye to Mom. She’d offered to drive, but I’d declined. Her emotional ups and downs had already made me a wreck as it was and in the few moments we had together walking to the trolley station she’d cried again. Then the instructions started: sit up straight, make eye contact, speak clearly, smile, and so on. The more she spoke, the more my stomach knotted.

  None of her advice was for my future-self’s benefit, of course. Elle’s brother had already given me the rundown. Apparently EA government workers hazed all meeting attendees, especially ones with signs of decadence.

  Rule 2.2 – Those who do not learn from the mistakes of the past are doomed to repeat it.

  Maybe someone from the Emancipated Society dared to wear a flashy color around town, but I’d never seen anyone who remotely looked out of line. Since decadence had led to destruction, we’d been instructed via the handbook to live simple lives. That meant homemade clothing and shoes in natural colors, although I did have pink pajamas. No one accessorized, and a simple gold band symbolized those who were married. Hairstyles were neat and trim, and we wouldn’t dare waste electricity using blow dryers or curling irons of the past, if you could find one. Sometimes, on a special occasion, men wore white crisp shirts and black pants, and women could wear a floral print, which I did today.

  I tried to push my fears aside. What did I have to be worried about? Nothing other than my best friend refused to tell me what happened during her meeting and then Blue Eyes’, who’d appeared out of thin air, hands me the note, like all of it was an omen or something.

  I stared at the other older passengers on their way to the city and won
dered why I wasn’t like other teens. No one seemed to care as much as I did. Elle said I was born responsible. Maybe that meant I’d do something great for Brighton in the future instead of being a typical homemaker. Though I didn’t mind sewing, cooking, gardening and cleaning, I did want to invent something cool. I guess I was like Dad in that sense. But still, adulthood or not, yesterday had been my last chance to be rebellious, ending today, March 1st, when I awoke and flew past my leap year birth date once again.

  To be honest, that’s what worried me the most. In all of Brighton, I’d never met anyone who’d had a birthday on February 29th. And annually, it created a problem. You’d think, in all their technical glory, the EA would count the years instead of the days and after March 1st, I’d had to remind tech support to up my age in the system, and each year they gave me a hard time. Then when a February 29 th would finally roll around, my birthday would revert back, counting only the February 29 th’s in the system.

  Imagine the joy when I turned sixteen only to be congratulated on turning four—publicly. And Landon never missed the opportunity to rub in how old I technically was. He’d be the first to wish me a happy five-and-a-half-years-old birthday when I went to Elle’s house later. Jerk face.

  The trolley came to a halt and the words Elected Agency Advice Center illuminated in blue on the wall. My stomach free fell into my shoes as a gentle computer voice warned riders to exit. I clutched my purse and watched the other teens move toward the exits. How easy it would be just to stay on the trolley and ride through the provinces instead.

  Here goes nothing, I thought as I stood.

  I recognized a set of twin guys from history classes online. They had buff shoulders and tanned faces, meaning they came from the southern farming province. None of them acknowledged me, which was fine. I had no plans on making friends today anyway. A long time ago, I’d decided to only befriend people in my province where I could interact with them in real life. It was too easy to be fake online and after the fiasco with Xander, I’d never trust anyone again.