by Jen Naumann
And she is walking straight toward me.
I brace myself.
Just feet away, she stops and looks down on me.
“Olive,” she says in a voice that is as beautiful as she is.
“Yes?” I answer, my own voice shaking. How does she know who I am? Has she been sent by Director Mahr to check up on me? I cough to clear the nerves from my throat. “That’s me.”
Her smile widens. “I thought so. I have a message for you.”
My throat is so dry and tight, it takes great effort to find my voice again. “Am I in trouble?”
She giggles. Since coming into Society, giggling is something I have rarely heard. I like the sound of it. It instantly reminds me of running through the forest with Taylor. Although painful to think of my old friend, the memory also brings a small wave of comfort.
The girl shakes her head, her blond mane dancing over her shoulders, and crouches down. The smell of flowers and something else—maybe her shampoo—slams into me. “No,” she whispers. “Harrison sent me.”
A sudden surge of jealousy runs through my veins. It happens with such speed that I fear I will do something irrational, like cry or yell out. I take in a deep breath to calm myself. The fact he gave this Future a message also fills me with hope. Maybe he is safe. Maybe he made it to the Free Lands.
“Is he okay?” I ask.
She nods and scrambles around to sit on the floor beside me. “He was caught with the packs and threatened with suspension, so he had to leave early.” Her voice is so low that I almost wonder if I really heard what she just said.
The backpacks were another bad idea in this half-cooked plan of ours. We should have known it would be too risky for Harrison to carry them around. He may as well have carried a sign saying he’s planning to run away. “Where is he?”
“He went into hiding to wait until you can join him. You and your friend Bree are supposed to meet him at the edge of the Future territory.”
“Bree’s gone. She won’t be coming.” My eyes water when I think of leaving my friend behind. “And I don’t know my way around Society.”
“Then I’ll take you,” she says without any further consideration.
I look hard at her. Why would a Future be so willing to help? Is she in love with Harrison? Other than holding my hand, he hasn’t shown any interest in me as anything but a friend. Maybe I was wrong to assume he feels something for me.
“How did he get the message to you?” I ask, swallowing the jealousy down.
She taps the spot behind her ear. “He contacted me on his communicator.”
I glance down the hallway. Our whole conversation could put us in danger. Someone could appear and take me away at any moment for even having such rebellious thoughts. “He shouldn’t have done that. It isn’t safe.”
She rests her hand on my arm and grins. “He wanted to make sure you weren’t left behind. He really cares about you, Olive. He’s willing to do anything for you.”
Heat rushes to my face. I have never blushed as many times in my entire life as I have since first meeting Harrison. “Why do you want to help me?” I ask. “You’re a Future, right? Why do you even care what happens to a couple of Shymers?”
Her big blue eyes sparkle with mischief. “My name is Tayrn. I’m Harrison’s cousin.”
I gasp. Maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that she’s related to Harrison—they are both beautiful. Still, the fact that she’s so willing to help is a surprise. From what I’ve been told, most Futures don’t have anything to do with their Shymer relatives. I blink back at her, wondering if she has had any of the surgical procedures to alter her face or if she just looks naturally stunning.
“Aren’t you afraid of being caught?” I ask. “What if they somehow find out after we’re gone that you helped us?” The Director’s threat rings in my head and I shiver.
Tayrn shakes her head, making her golden hair do another dance. Her wide smile reveals a mouth full of perfect white teeth, like Harrison’s. “That won’t happen. I’m crossing over with you.”
11 – I Know What You’re Trying to Do
The buzzer announcing the end of lunch sounds. We both jump in surprise. Tayrn turns back to me and laughs so hard that I can’t stop myself from laughing along with her. More than anything, our nerves over the situation have gotten the best of us.
“I have to go,” she says, standing quickly. Her eyes are still filled with tears from laughing, but also look worried as the Futures and Shymers begin to invade the hall. “Meet me out behind the school at the end of the day. We will have to move fast. If we are seen together, it will cause suspicion.”
The hallway is soon completely flooded with students. Without another word or look, Tayrn whirls around on her heels and is gone. I stand for a moment watching after her, unable to believe what just happened.
I know Tayrn is right. Returning to the orphanage is not an option after Director Mahr caught Harrison trying to leave. I am filled with relief that Harrison was able to get away before the Director followed through with his threats.
I also need to finish out my day of lessons. If I don’t show it may draw attention, even though the teachers rarely pay that much attention to the Shymers. But the school does track students by the use of their tablets. If mine is inactive they may come looking for me.
The rest of the day couldn’t go any slower. I pass Tayrn once in the hallway. As expected, she doesn’t acknowledge me in any way. At her side are two other Futures that, quite obviously,have had the surgeries performed as their faces are too tight and their lips are too big. Tayrn has to have been born the way she is—only nature could make something that seemingly perfect.
During my last lesson of the day, one of the Shymer girls trips while walking into the classroom. She falls to the ground, taking two Future girls down with her. The three girls each yell out in surprise, twisting around to get away from each other. When the Futures return to their feet, they glare angrily at the small girl.
The taller of the two Futures actually spits on her. “You’re worthless!”
“I don’t know why they let you people come to this school,” the other Future chimes in. “You’ll never amount toanything.”
I stand by and watch this happen, chewing on my lip so hard that it bleeds. The reasonable voice in my head reminds me that I can’t draw attention to myself. Not when I will be leaving in a matter of minutes, hopefully for good. Still, the poor girl—who looks to be no older than twelve—stands with her shoulders slumped and tears streaming down her face. It kills me not to step in and say something to these cruel girls in defense of the Shymer. My mother would not be proud of the part of me who wins out as I just watch it all happen.
I follow the quiet girl over to the Shymer side and find a seat next to her just as the buzzer to begin class rings out. As the instructor continues our lesson from where we last left off, I reach out to the girl, tapping her arm with my fingers. Her eyes, hurt and afraid, dart onto mine. I try to smile, but the guilt and shame for not standing up to the Future girls overwhelms me. My lips shake with the pent up emotion. The girl looks away before I have a chance to try to tell her I’m sorry.
My eyes are brimming with tears when I think of all the others who not only have a shorter life, but have to endure this horrible place in which they are told they are nothing and treated like dirt. How many other schools are out there in Society? Do they all treat the Shymers the same way?
How can the government go on judging people by their lifespan, and nothing more? These Futures with their fake blond hair and surgically enhanced faces are certainly not any better human beings than this poor girl who was just degraded. How can everyone continue to live like this, pretending there is nothing wrong with it?
I wish I could take all the Shymers with me. I wish they could all run away and see what life is really supposed to be about. Deep down I know there has got to be something I can do. There has got to be a way to change all of this.
; * * *
As the last lesson of the day winds down, my palms are covered in sweat from a mixture of excitement and fear of what is to come. Watching the final minutes of the clock tick, I focus on keeping my breath steady and maintaining the usual bored look of most Shymers.
With the sound of the buzzer, my heart nearly leaps from my throat. I hold my head low, following the other Shymers in our rightful spot behind the Futures. I make it out of the classroom and see the hallway that will lead me to the backyard where we gather for lunch. My freedom is so close I can taste it. I drop my tablet into the nearest garbage and stride into the hallway when, all at once, a figure steps out in front of me.
“Zeke!” I yell out, surprised. “Hi!”
My heart hammers in my chest. Had he seen me throw my tablet away? He stands uncomfortably close, looking out at me from beneath his greasy hair.
His lips curl into a lop-sided smile, the gaps in his teeth appearing. “Feeling better?”
I nod with a small, polite smile. “A little.”
He holds his hand out to me. “I thought I would walk you to the shuttle station.”
My jagged heartbeat shakes my entire body with each thrum. I don’t know Zeke. It may not be safe to tell him what I’m doing, or where I’m going. Although he did always sit with Harrison on the shuttle, I don’t know anything else about him. Maybe they aren’t really friends. If Harrison wanted me to ask Zeke to run away with us, he would have asked Tayrn to say something to me about it. Then again, I remember how Zeke only has a few weeks left to live. He lives in the orphanage where he won’t get a chance to work on his playlist either.
“Hello?” Zeke waves a hand in front of my face when I still don’t answer. “Is there a problem?”
My focus falls on his face. I have to make a decision—fast. “I…I have to go to the bathroom. I will meet you in front of the school.”
Zeke’s smile fades when his eyebrows draw down. “I can just wait here for you.” Something about his expression feels off and stirs the panic in my stomach. Is he angry with me for not leaving with him right this second? What if the director is behind his suspicion? What if Zeke is following me because the director specifically told him to?
“That’s okay,” I say, choosing each word carefully. “I feel like I’m going to be sick. It may be a few minutes.”
His eyebrows relax a little. He shrugs. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “I’ll meet you at the station.”
He gives me a smaller, more sullen smile before turning on his heels and disappearing into the sea of students leaving for the day. I wait until I can no longer see the back of his gray shirt before turning in the opposite direction and heading down the long hallway.
Acting normal is difficult. At the end of this hallway lies my way out of this harsh reality. I walk briskly rather than running when maneuvering past the other bodies, hoping not to draw any extra attention. Some of the Futures give me the usual snide glare as I pass by. Others seem to look right through me, as if I don’t even exist.
The second I finally reach the end, I burst through the doors leading to outside and walk underneath the canopies with my head held low. The afternoon heat is sweltering. Still, I feel as if I can breathe again. I made it outside, at least. No matter what happens to me now, I would rather die than return to this horrible school.
I scan the grassy yard in search of Tayrn. Where is she? Panicked thoughts invade my mind: what if she’s not really Harrison’s cousin? What if this was all a trick, brought on by the director’s suspicions?
Before long, however, a familiar cluster of blond hair appears from behind a corner of the building. Soon, Tayrn’s face peers out. I run to her, unable to act casual any longer. “We made it!” I proclaim happily.
“That was the easy part,” she tells me. A kind but weary smile spreads across her lips. “There will be soldiers everywhere from here on out. Mind your own business and don’t make any eye contact. If they stop to question you, you must tell them you are heading to an uptown job. Tell them you’re the daughter of Franklin DeBeur. Keep a good distance behind me at all times. We will take the shuttle to the Future territory and walk the rest of the way. It will be a long trip, but we should get through uptown by nightfall.”
My head spins. What if the soldiers decide to scan my pupils? They will know right away I’m not who I say I am and that I haven’t reported to the orphanage. I hope I can remember the name Franklin DeBeur, whoever that may be.
Tayrn holds her hand to the side of my face. “Relax, Olive. We’ll be okay. Just remember everything I told you. Before you know it, you’ll be with Harrison.”
Just hearing his name calms me. I shut my eyes and nod. Tayrn’s hand falls away and she leaves. Ignoring the knot in my stomach, I follow behind her at a safe distance.
As we leave the schoolyard, I catch a glimpse of a shadow behind me. When I turn around, no one is there.
* * *
Inside the cleaner and brighter shuttle for the Futures, I stand out as being different. The blondes are all dressed in bright colors and engage in loud conversations with each other. There is so much laughter and commotion around me that my anger for Society festers. Those sitting around me are favored by everyone in Society and have no worries. I look down at my feet most of the way, taking care not to make eye contact with anyone as Tayrn said. Besides, I am fearful they will either recognize me or throw hateful words my way.
The ride to the Future territory takes much longer. Tayrn sits a few rows ahead of me, speaking in animated tones with the girls around her. Each time I dare to look her way, she is glancing back at me over her shoulder. I continue to struggle with the fact that Harrison never mentioned his cousin. Am I wrong in trusting her? Her kindness and willingness to help came with great surprise. Are there other Futures who disagree with the system or is she an exception among their kind?
When the shuttle finally stops and the doors open, I spring forward. Getting away from these Futures will be a great relief. Just the sight of their perfect faces is enough to make my stomach queasy.
The walk proves to be excruciatingly long and I can feel my sandals wearing thin beneath my heels. Just as I had feared, I am stared at and questioned by more than one soldier. Thankfully, not a one of them decides to scan my eyes to see if I am telling the truth. Whoever this Franklin guy may be, his name gets me through.
This side of Society is quite obviously where the Futures live and work. The buildings are well groomed and covered in solar panels of the same dark color, reaching high into the sky. The streets are immaculate from even the smallest specks of dirt, unlike the sector where the orphanage is located. Cars fill the streets and pass by at great speeds, seeming to want to reach their destinations in a hurry. I yearn for the cool air I know to be inside those cars from that first trip to the orphanage.
Although we walk underneath the shade of the canopies, the intense heat from the afternoon is borderline unbearable. My hair is gathered into a knot behind my head and beads of sweat drip down my neck, pooling onto the back of my shirt. It still makes me uncomfortable showing the mark I have yet to see myself, but there does not seem to be any danger in showing it here. I will not pass as a Future with my plain clothes and less than perfectly bright-blond hair.
What would happen if a soldierdid decide to scan me? It is possible that I will show up as being a Future, like before. When I was first brought into Society the scan came back showing me as such, and the director even said I was one. Is it possible there is some kind of glitch in the system? But why would I have the mark if I am a Future?
Deciding to keep my mark hidden until I have more answers, I pull my hair from the knot. When it falls down, it clings to my wet neck and face.
I need water. I need to stop and rest my feet. Tayrn forges ahead, yards in front of me. Her pace is quick—either the heat doesn’t bother her or she is a lot stronger than I am.
Thoughts of seeing Harrison soon push me forward.
&nb
sp; The tall buildings fall to the distance as we leave downtown behind and enter a new area filled with small, square houses that look to be run down for the most part. They are all made of white metal with solar covered roofs. The yards surrounding them are small and covered with dull rocks. Everything is not glamorous in this sector like it was downtown. The farther we travel, the more threatening the area feels. The shadows somehow feelalive. It’s as if we’re being carefully watched.
A large stone building with a group of narrow cages running alongside it comes into view. I nearly jump out of my skin whendogs appear at the edge of the cages, barking angrily and snapping their sharp teeth. Dogs used to be family pets in the old world, but they were deemed vicious by the government after too many accidental attacks. Now they are only owned by soldiers and those who work for the government.
I glance to the large blinking sign that readsGOVERNMENT HEADQUARTERS. Pulling in a deep breath, I will myself to stay calm. If I mind my own business and don’t draw any attention, it will all be fine.
Tayrn turns back, glancing at me for a fleeting second. Still, I don’t miss the warning flashing in her bright blue eyes. She pauses for traffic before crossing the street over to another canopy on the other side. The remaining light of the sun as it sinks lower in the sky catches on Tayrn’s hair, making her look just how I imagine a real, live angel from my father’s stories would. Between telling me Harrison is okay and taking me on this dangerous journey to him, she has becomemy personal angel, anyway.