I wasn’t even sure why I took it.
Just to hold something so beautiful was incredible. This little pink stone surrounded by yellow gold was absolutely perfect. The exact opposite of everything I was.
The stone didn’t sparkle inside the shack like it did under the light in the house. It was too dull. Or perhaps the stone knew it didn’t belong there. That I didn’t deserve its beauty. I didn’t dare take it outside to test my theory.
“Wren,” Rocky panted, standing in the doorway once again. My fingers snapped closed around the brooch. “There’s a new delivery.”
“I’m coming,” I said, a second before he took off running down the path.
I tucked the brooch into my top, pinning it to the inside of my bra. The clasp was a bit loose and it wasn’t comfortable but it was the only place where nobody would be able to see it. My life depended on it remaining hidden.
I had to run to catch up with Rocky. He was standing in the center of our village with Sunny, she had a bundle in her arms. The baby was wrapped in a towel, otherwise naked. It was screaming, its arms waving around trying to grasp what was happening to it.
The child couldn’t have been more than a day old. Freshly created in the laboratory and cast out the same day. It only had one hand.
Carefully making my way through the small crowd, I reached Sunny. “Is it a boy or a girl?” I asked. It wasn’t exactly vital, but we would have to name the baby and gender would help with that process.
It was a tradition amongst the Defectives that we chose names based on things in nature. We might be human-made but it was our way of rebelling in the tiniest way possible.
“He’s a little boy,” Sunny replied. She already had a look of love in her eyes. Sunny looked after most deliveries in the village. The troopers would leave the Defective newborn at the edge of our limits and someone would hear their scream and come running. They were always brought to Sunny.
“How about we name him Twig?” someone called out. “He’s only a little stick of a runt.”
His comment earned a few laughs.
Sunny nodded. “I like that. You, my little boy, will be named Twig.”
Everyone clapped – another tradition.
Raising a Defective child in the village was a responsibility everyone took on board. We would look after the baby in turn, everyone pulling their weight to feed, bathe, and shelter the child. We would make sure Twig felt loved, if not human.
When the time came, we would tell him what he was and the future he would face. They were never the same carefree child again after the talk.
People returned to their tasks with the tradition over. I was about to return to the shanty when Sunny called me over. Twig was already asleep in her good arm.
“Do you have food, Wren?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
She hesitated and I got the sinking feeling I knew what was about to come. I braced myself for it, knowing it was for the best. “There might be another raid tonight. The troopers are looking very hard for you.”
“I know.” I swallowed down the hurt. “I’ll leave.”
Her lips tried to form a smile but her eyes were only sad. “I think that’s for the best. Just for a little while until they are satisfied you’re not here.”
“Will you keep an eye on Rocky for me?”
“You’re not taking him with you?”
I shook my head. “It will only put him in danger.”
Sunny was a nurturer, she understood that sometimes it took personal sacrifice to keep your loved ones safe. “I will watch out for him. He’s going to be angry when he finds out.”
“Like you said, it won’t be forever. Right?”
“Right.”
We were both lying.
Chapter 5: Reece
A trooper’s day started at 5 a.m. on a good day. At 3 a.m. on a bad one. Today we were all standing at attention and heading out at 6. We were in neat rows as we boarded the large trucks we used to get around the city.
They were designed for functionality, not comfort. We sat in rows, holding our guns in our laps and trying to ignore the heat in the enclosed space.
The faces of the men around me were grim. We had a mission to fulfill and we wouldn’t be returning to base until we were triumphant.
We would win.
At all costs.
We always did.
Our task for the day was to track down the Defectives illegally working in the warehouse district. President Stone was concerned the clones would revel in independence if they took jobs. They would think they were as good as humans.
The powers that be had reliable intel that Defectives were spotted in the factories so we had to eradicate them. Once caught they would be nothing but organs in storage by nightfall.
I hoped they ran.
Around every corner I feared I would find one. There were only so many I could let escape before people started to notice. I had been careful so far but one little slip and it would be all over.
The truck jumped up and down as we wove our way through the rough streets. Cars and pedestrians darted out of our way, keen to keep out of trouble. Nobody truly enjoyed an encounter with a trooper.
“Listen up, losers,” Sergeant Malone started, yelling over the noise of the journey. “We’re going to blanket the district and round the bastards up. There will be nowhere for them to hide and no time for them to run. We will get them. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” we replied in unison like well-trained animals. Sometimes I wondered whether the Defectives had more freedom than we did.
A slow smirk crossed the sergeant’s face. He enjoyed being in charge, having all of us in the palm of his hand. Power made some people rise to the cause, it made others into tyrants. He was the latter.
“Five minutes until go time. Get your asses out into the field and don’t come back until your mission is complete.” He sat down again, satisfied he had done enough to motivate us.
Another few minutes of creaks and knocks went by in the truck before we pulled into our temporary base command – otherwise known as a field in the middle of the warehouse district.
We marched off the bus in a silent single file, the grip on our guns tightening now we were in public.
My partner for the mission was Watson, we hadn’t worked together before. We beat a rhythm down the road as we headed for our assigned buildings.
The early morning saw people turning up for the start of their workday. Their looks started off as curious at the commotion until they saw our white uniforms. Their eyes quickly darted away so they wouldn’t make contact with us.
“When are the bloody Defs going to learn to keep to their filthy village?” Watson mumbled as we reached the first warehouse.
“When we teach them a lesson,” I replied, cringing at the use of the Defectives’ nickname – Defs. Although, I’d heard them called worse. Much worse.
We barged into the clothing warehouse like we owned the place, screaming for everyone to get down and stay on the ground. Bodies skittered everywhere as they tried to either escape or follow our orders.
Watson planted his booted foot on the back of the first person he reached. The man was sprawled on the ground, his hands shaking on the back of his head. “Where is your ID card?” he demanded.
“In my pocket,” the man replied, unable to keep the quiver from his voice.
While Watson held the man and pointed his gun at his head, I crouched down and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. It only took a moment for me to locate the silver ID card. I held it up for my partner to see.
“He’s human,” I stated before kneeling down next to him. “Who’s in charge here?”
His eyes were starting to water from the pressure on his back. “I’m the foreman. The boss doesn’t come in today.”
“Do you have any clones working here?” I asked.
“No, no, not at all. That’s illegal. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t risk it.”
My eyes lingere
d on his face for a moment more before standing. “He’s telling the truth but we should look around anyway,” I said to Watson.
“You can’t tell if he’s lying,” my partner spat back, pushing the butt of the gun deeper into his skin.
“No, I can’t. But he’s human so leave him alone and we’ll look around. We wouldn’t want one escaping while we chatted all day, would we?”
Watson wasn’t used to being told what to do, especially by someone who did not outrank him. It took him a few stubborn moments before he eased his gun back and started walking.
We split up, demanding to see the ID of everyone lying on the dirty floor of the warehouse. The best of them were quiet and helpful. The worst were crying and saying silent prayers.
They were all human.
Moving onto the next building, we repeated the process. Every time we stormed in we elicited fear, screams, and whimpers from those we encountered.
None welcomed us.
Playing my part, I was rude and rough with them. I refused to acknowledge the fear in their eyes or the shakes in their limbs. I showed them no mercy, making sure Watson had no reason to question my motives.
We finished the buildings allocated to us and returned to base emptyhanded. It was a relief not to take back any Defectives and parade them through the troopers like prized pigs.
Water and snacks were distributed as each team started to join us for a break. Dwyer and his partner made it back not long after I started guzzling down water.
“We got two!” Dwyer shouted, whooping with joy. “The dirty Defs were hiding in a basement. Their boss rolled on them faster than a rock going downhill.” He grabbed a bottle of water and perched on the fence next to me. “You get any?”
I shook my head, pretending to be angry. “Nah. Only humans in ours. How old were they?”
It was the wrong question to ask. I instantly regretted it. Showing any interest in the Defectives was not normal. They were supposed to be no more interesting than cockroaches.
Dwyer squinted as he looked at me, shrugging. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”
“No, of course it doesn’t,” I replied nonchalantly. I had to be more careful. “They’ll be frozen stiff by tonight anyway. Right?”
“Right.”
He found another, more interesting, conversation and left me to drink my water alone. I scanned the group, trying to locate the Defectives that were found. If they were brought back to base, they had been hidden already. There was only a sea of white uniforms before me.
Movement caught my eye as my gaze went around the street. It was almost empty now, nobody daring to leave their warehouse in case they came to our unwanted attention.
One person was waving, his hand the movement that had stopped me. Just as quickly as he had started, he stopped again and walked into a small brick building.
I looked around, making sure nobody was paying me any attention, before following. I walked like I was on a mission, daring someone to call me back and question me.
Slipping into the building, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. A single flashlight beam guided me in further, I headed toward it and hoped it wasn’t some kind of trap.
The light blinked off as I approached it.
“Are you Reece Thompson?” The male voice floated out of the darkness.
“I might be. Who are you?”
“Doesn’t matter. I have a message for you.”
The complete darkness was disorientating. The voice sounded like it was coming from my right but I couldn’t be entirely sure. He could be only one of many people surrounding me.
“Show yourself,” I ordered. There was no point in being reckless and stupid by coming in alone.
It seemed to take forever before the click of the flashlight illuminated the man’s face. He was about fifty, his white hair glowing yellow in the light.
I nodded a thank you. “What’s the message?”
“They need to talk to you,” he said, his voice a flat monotone like he had switched his emotions off many years ago. There was no telling how much harshness he had seen over his lifetime. My guess would be much.
“I can’t leave the base without a mission,” I replied. Surely they had to know how difficult my situation was. The captain didn’t issue day passes for personal business. We belonged to Stone, our life revolved around our service to her.
“It’s too dangerous to reach you any other way.”
My mind whirled with schemes and the likelihood of me being able to slip out of base. The odds were slim to none. But this was what I had signed up for. If I didn’t find a way then everything was pointless anyway.
“I’ll try to get out,” I said, making no certain promises. My departure would rely solely on opportunity and luck. There was nothing that could actually be planned.
The man’s head bobbed with acknowledgement. “I will let them know to expect your visit. You remember the meeting point?”
“I do.”
“May luck be with you.”
The flashlight clicked off and I was encased in darkness again. I turned back the way I came and made a hasty retreat. Watson was waiting for me in the base area.
“Where’d you go?” he asked.
“For a piss. Any more questions?”
His rigid stance told me he had plenty more but he held his tongue… for now. “Let’s just go. We have our new assignment and I don’t want to be dragging my ass around these stinking streets any longer than I have to.”
“Lead the way.”
Watson was more than happy to take charge. I followed beside him, my hands sweaty on the gun. They kept sliding down the handle, making the weapon seem heavier than it usually did.
A meeting with the Resistance had that effect on me.
We stormed through building after building, following the same routine of intimidation and roughness as we demanded to see ID cards and ordered them to tell us where the Defectives were.
If there were clones there, they were hiding well enough to elude us and the humans liked them enough to not rat them out. I hoped no more clones would be found in the district. Two were enough to cause a black stain on my conscience.
It took us all day to get through our assignments. Even then, we were only halfway through the district. The place was practically a ghost town, the sun casting long shadows over the empty streets.
When we were leaving our last building, my heart stopped as I caught a glimpse of the one thing I was hoping would be as far away from there as possible.
The girl.
President Stone’s clone.
She was in the warehouse district.
And she was as good as dead.
My steps did not falter as I saw her enter one of the warehouses. She snuck inside like she was nothing more than a little mouse. Her dark hair fluttering behind her like a cape.
God, I hoped she wouldn’t still be there in the morning when we returned.
Watson was complaining and grumbling about something but I didn’t hear him. Every thought in my head was consumed with the girl. My heart beat faster just knowing she was near.
She was going to get herself killed.
I desperately needed to get her a message but there was no way I could. I would be betraying her and myself. If that happened then we were both dead. Her organs would live on, ensuring our president had a long and healthy life. Mine wouldn’t.
What would she be doing there?
Nobody would hire Stone’s clone in their warehouse. They wouldn’t risk it, not with the girl who wore a permanent target on her body.
Watson suddenly slapped me on the back, pulling me from my internal panic. “Pay attention. We’re getting those clones tomorrow, you hear? I want to make Sergeant and there’s one way to fast track that.”
There was.
It involved the slaughter of many clones.
“Yeah, tomorrow,” I replied.
We met the rest of the troop and marched onto the truck. The st
ench of body odor infiltrated my nose, assaulting me to the point I wished I could stop breathing.
Only those that had captured Defectives – three so far – rode the truck with joy. The rest of us reveled in our supposed misery at being inadequate members of the President’s Trooper Division.
My thoughts kept going to the girl. If she wasn’t out of the district by tomorrow morning, she would definitely be found. Any trooper capturing her was guaranteed a promotion. Watson would be only too happy to escort her to the president himself.
By the time we reached the base I was ready to put some distance between us all. I returned to my dorm and changed out of my mission uniform, replacing white Kevlar for khaki pants and T-shirt.
I would have eaten in my room but that wasn’t an option. I had to blend in with everyone else and that meant eating meals in the mess hall. I hurried down with the rest of them.
The hall was full of rowdy soldiers. Those not shoving food in their hole were recounting tales of their missions – both today’s and those in the past. I tuned them out as much as I could while still being able to laugh and nod in the right places.
Food on the base was simple, enough to keep us alive and charged. Not enough to be satisfying. Stone liked to control us with our meals just as much as she did the Defectives. Give us all just enough but not actually enough, that was the trick.
“So I go down into this bunker and find a human with a Def,” Watson says, his hands flying around with every gesture. “He was actually with one of those filthy creatures. And you know what he said?”
He had the whole table pulled into his story. If there was something Watson enjoyed, it was certainly having an audience. He hadn’t shut up since he sat down.
“What’d he say?” Keenan asked, shoveling more beans into his mouth.
Watson waited one more moment for dramatic effect, drawing it out as long as he could. “He said the Def came onto him, forced him into it. I pointed out the fact he wasn’t exactly tied up and arrested them both.”
The table erupted into laughter.
Two Beating Hearts Page 4