by White, Megan
Besides being able to hunt, John and I had no abilities in common, “Pfft.” I snorted. “I doubt that. You will probably test into some big bad Keeper school and become everything that we hate.” I nudged his shoulder playfully. John would never willingly become one of those heartless policy makers but we had no choice in what we would become. Physically, John could give any one of them a run for their money, that’s if they gave him a fair shot and put down their weapons. “Black is so not your color.”
He grabbed my hand in a fierce squeeze. “I would rather die than become one of them.”
“And you will if you don’t follow protocol.” I turned to him once we reached the landing of the bus, trying my best to hide our faces behind the crowd that had gathered around us. “Please don’t get yourself killed.” I begged him with pleading eyes, “I am rather fond of your face.”
He leaned down to me, making me think he was going to whisper his reply but to my astonishment, he placed his lips lightly over mine. “I will try my best.”
If a Keeper saw, we would have both been imprisoned.
John’s back immediately stiffened and upon turning, I saw why. The Keeper from the square, the one that noticed us talking, was standing directly behind me. My heart lodged itself in my throat as I watched him watching me. He drifted over to us, his robe making it look as if he were floating rather than walking.
I thought that was it, we were both going to jail. That a simple kiss would be reason for prison time would have been a joke to anyone a few years ago, but that was a time long past. Our lives would never be the same, and now a man that could end both of our worthless lives floated toward us with no emotion in his icy blue stare.
He stopped only inches away from my face, and I could feel his supreme attitude radiating off his body. Never had I been that close to a Keeper.
His expression was vacant as he looked me over. Watching his eyes graze over my figure, it took all my willpower not to vomit.
“Erin,” He breathed my name in such a way that it caused my scalp to prickle, and sent goose bumps racing up my arms. How they all knew who we were was unnerving. “I will be your Keeper for the duration of the ride, is there anything bothering you?” He cocked his head to the side, regarding me suspiciously. “I couldn’t help but notice you in the square. Are you nervous?” His voice was sickly sweet as he spoke to me, but I knew what lay beneath that somber appearance, a man with the ability to kill any one of us with one swipe of his prod.
I wanted nothing more than to ignore him, but ignoring an official was not allowed. If a Keeper spoke to you, it was law that you must answer in a respectable and timely fashion. “As nervous as can be expected, Sir.” Blahh, just saying ‘sir’ was almost my undoing; I thought for sure that whatever remained in my empty stomach would be plastered all over the bus by the end of the trip.
“Well,” He breathed, stepping even closer to me, invading all my personal space and tightening the knot that presently resided in my core, “If there is anything I can do to ease those nerves please let me know. After all,” He smiled, revealing unnatural pearly white teeth, “There is nothing to be nervous about.”
His presence alone was chilling to the bone. I knew that under that robe he held a weapon that could kill us all before anyone had time to run. He knew it as well.
I nodded, returning a small smile of my own; all the while silently wishing I could punch him in the face. “Thank you, Sir.”
As the Keeper turned away, I felt John’s hand at the small of my back, squeezing me in reassurance. John had always been protective over me, and I really hoped that it wouldn’t get him killed.
“If only you would have run with me.” He muttered under his breath.
“Yeah,” I managed to choke out, “I know.”
We boarded the bus in a single file line, and it was then that I noticed the armor that protected the outside of the vehicle was also present on the inside. As the first few on the bus, John and I had the advantage of sitting in the back. At least we would be able to speak a few words to each other without being noticed.
“Is it just me or does this feel like a prison bus?” He mumbled, pointing to the cage that separated the driver from the passengers.
I had yet to notice that there was a steel cage that bisected the front of the bus, inclosing us in. The cage was constructed to separate us from the driver, and whatever Keeper would be accompanying us.
“Why would they need to be protected from us?” I asked, following him down narrow aisle.
“There are more of us than there are of them.”
“Yeah.” I whispered, looking over the last of the Testers as they took their respective seats, “but none of us have guns. They could kill us all without much effort.”
“Guns aren’t the only weapon, Rin. A crowd this big could easily disarm a handful of Keepers with very few casualties.”
That was John, he was always thinking of a way to get free. He would spend hours on our rooftop planning different scenarios where we could make it out of our Zone alive. There was only one thing John never took into consideration, there were always more Zones. After ours ended, another began. We would have nowhere to run, except into another Zone and once there, the Keepers had orders to shoot us on the spot. That’s if they were feeling generous. Sending us back would have been not only a death sentence, but one that would end only after they grew tired of torturing us.
We had all heard stories of the ones that ran. John’s father and mine was one of those infamous stories. From what we had been told, they ran together and were to come back once they had established a place for their families. They never came back, at least not alive.
From the stories we were told, they were both beaten and tortured, tried for treason and shot. The stories of the runners were told from time to time, whenever The Supremacy felt the need to strike fear into the population. Whenever there was talk of us rising up, the Keepers would swarm to that Zone in droves. No one was brave enough to rise up against them, and there was not a single soul that blamed them.
I rested my head on the back of the seat, looking up at the armored ceiling of our bus, “I wish I didn’t have to leave you.”
His hand found mine, “Me too.”
John was my best friend, my only friend in a life that made Hell look like a vacation fit for a king. The thought of not seeing him for three months hurt more than being shipped off to whatever place The Supremacy had chosen for me.
The doors shut with finality, the steel doors clanking together as they met, with our Keeper locking them tight with a thud. And the bus fell silent.
***
The cage that protected the driver and Keeper rattled metallically as the Keeper opened it. His eyes scanned the bus until he found me. My blood ran cold as I watched a sinister smile creep across his face.
“I think someone made an impression on the devil.” John whispered into my ear. I wish he wouldn’t have. The Keeper’s eyes immediately locked on John, and I feared what he would do to him. Surely, he wouldn’t go to extremes in a bus filled to capacity.
I froze when he began to float down the narrow aisle, his authoritative glower still locked on my best friend.
“Why did you have to do that?” I mumbled to him.
“Because I am not afraid of him.”
“You should be.”
He came to a stop in front of our seat, “Erin,” He spoke my name gently, his voice oozing the same eerie sweetness as it had before, “I would like you to come up to the front and sit with me.”
We were not allowed to question the orders of a policy maker, but the inquiry was out of my mouth before I could stop it. “Why? Have I done something wrong?”
I had done many things wrong, but I hoped that he would leave them clandestine.
He chuckled without humor, his outstretched hand awaiting mine. I felt John’s leg stiffen beside me as my hand slowly neared the Keeper’s.
I took the Keeper’s hand without reproach. I h
ad no other choice but to go with him. I would go peacefully, or by force.
The instant our hands met, an ice-cold chill ran through me causing my entire body to shiver. I noted the way his eyes lit up and widened. His nostrils flared once I stood from my seat, our eyes locked on one other as he pulled me closer to him.
John’s hand came between us, landing firmly on top of mine. “No!” He yelled at the Keeper that held me. John stood, putting his body between me and the Keeper that was still pulling me into the aisle, “You won’t take her anywhere!” John’s voice boomed through the silence of the bus.
Sharp inhales of frightened and stunned bystanders followed; we all knew what would happen next. A Keeper had all authority to put down any that they deemed a threat.
“Please, John,” I begged him with my words and pleading eyes. He would end up dead if he did not start complying, “I’ll be okay.”
He wrapped his arm around my waist and pushed me behind him until his entire body shielded mine from the Keeper that wished to take me away.
I heard John’s tortured scream before my brain had enough time to register what happened. His body laid limp on the seat, his chest smoking from the electrical prod that had been used on him. I flung myself to him, rubbing my hand over top of his chest, trying in vain to cool his heated flesh.
My eyes shot to the Keeper, watching him tuck his wand into the inside of his robe. “What did you do!” I cried. All I could think was that he had just killed my best friend when all he was trying to do was protect me.
I wanted to murder the Keeper that stood in front of me, but I knew that he would have me on the ground before I let loose my first swing.
He raised his brows in challenge. He wanted me to push him, “He will wake up soon enough.” He breathed, offering me his hand once more, “Come with me.”
It was not a request. Keepers did not request things from the commoners. I took his hand and stepped over the only person that had ever tried to protect me.
I left John unconscious on the seat. I thought it was going to be the last image I would ever have of him, and that memory would have been burned into my mind for the rest of my days.
Chapter Three
With his hand tightly wrapped around mine, the Keeper ushered me to the front of the bus. His touch was frigid, an unnatural chill. I resigned myself to complying, fearing what he might do to me if I fought. I watched silently as he dug into the side of his robe once we reached the metal cage that bisected the bus. Slowly, he pulled out a key, grabbing the lock that secured the chains in the same fluid motion. Out of courtesy, I tried to free my hand, thinking it would give him better range of motion, but his accompanied words and returning iron tight grip surprised me, “You will not let go until I say you can.”
A tight nod was all I could manage. Everything in me wanted to run, to scream, but I had no other choice but to obey, for submitting was the only thing that would save my life. He was a Keeper; he held my life, and everyone else’s, in his hands.
He pointed to a secluded bench-seat near the driver. It was out of sight from most of the passengers, and all I could think of was what John’s reaction would be when he awoke to find me gone. He would be angry, I knew that much, but what I feared was what he would do with that anger. John was headstrong, stubborn and powerful. He hated bowing to anyone, especially anyone that did the dirty work for The Supremacy, and that is exactly what a Keeper did. A Keeper was the enforcer, The Supremacy’s clean-up crew.
I watched silently as the Keeper shoved the chains back in their place, locking them as they met.
I stood frozen, taking in the site of the bench that he wanted me to share with him. Petrified that the set of shackles secured to the sides, two sets, one for a person’s wrists and the other for their ankles, were meant for me.
I had seen people chained. Most of us had, but never had I been one of those people. It was common for a Keeper to parade their captives through the town. They used the show as another way of keeping us in our places. It was a sickening sight to watch someone being dragged like an animal for everyone to see. The iron cuffs dug deep into the subject’s body, specifically made to tighten the more one struggled.
Blood wasn’t something anyone was sheltered from. We had all seen more than our fair share of it spilled.
My stepmother never saw it as cruel. She hung on every word The Supremacy uttered, and her words would forever be branded into my mind. “They are criminals, Erin, nothing more. And they should be punished.” But the way The Supremacy ‘punished’ was pure cruelty, there was no justice.
At the age of seven, I saw my first public execution.
It was the start of the darkest time in our history, the first killing of many. I remember the old man well. The first murder you witnessed wasn’t something you could ever forget. He was skin and bones from the many years of famine, a walking skeleton. His wife was the same, her frame so weak that she could no longer straighten her spine when she stood. His killing was an especially cruel one.
John and I were walking the streets when we heard the agonized shouts of a man in unbearable pain. We both ran toward the screams when we heard, but soon our hurried feet became frozen when we saw the man lying in a pool of his own blood. He was completely unmoving, yet the violent blows from the young Keeper still did not stop.
He was beaten unmercifully, because he was hungry. He didn’t want much, just food. His wife was caught stealing from a local merchant; a single loaf of bread was taken. The story told was that she was grabbed first but the old man refused to let them take her. He struck the Keeper with his walking stick, a feeble attempt at trying to save his wife; that one slap cost him his own.
We watched helpless as the Keeper beat the man to death. Beat him while his wife watched, bound with the shackles they put her in.
From that day on, John and I detested anyone that wore the robe, and now I was the one being led away.
I could feel him slinking up behind me, my scalp prickled again, goose bumps raced up my arms. He was so close that I could feel his breath on my neck.
“Sit down, Erin.” When his sickly cold breath trickled down my neck, it caused my stomach to heave. If he was going to chain me, I thought I should at least have the right to know why. I tried my best to steady my erratic breathing, and on shaky legs, I turned to him. While holding the shackles in my hand I stared into his cold blue eyes, “Has what I’ve done been so wrong?”
I watched his eyes narrow, and his lips set in a firm line as he shrewdly scrutinized me, “My plan wasn’t to chain you, but I will.” His eyes lit up with delight, “if you do not sit down willingly.”
I slowly took my seat and noted that his eyes never left me.
“Now, then,” He sighed, lowering his powerful form to sit too close to me. “Are you going to be hostile to me the entire trip, because I have ways to discourage that as well.”
I let out a shaky breath, an ineffective attempt at trying to steady my nerves, “I do have some sense of self preservation.”
“Do you, Erin? I could list the many reasons why I think you have no sense of self preservation at all. Would you like me to list them?”
“And that is why I am here, with you, because I have broken some arbitrary rule.” I regretted that comment the moment it left my lips.
He shifted in his seat, and without any other detectible movement, he had my wrists and ankles shackled.
He smiled as my panicked eyes shot to his, “I’d refrain from the disrespectful sarcasm if I were you.”
“But you’re not me,” I quickly found my voice, and the nerve to speak. I always knew that one day I would find myself in shackles. That was something most of us realized long ago. “You are a Keeper who can shackle me, even kill me if that is your intention. If you are going to treat me this way,” I jiggled the chains around my wrists. “I don’t see a point in biting my tongue.”
I watched as his jaw clenched, sure that no commoner had ever openly spoken to him in such
a manner. Most of us avoided a policy maker at all cost. All too soon, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Do you have a death wish?” His voice seethed sickly sweet.
“No,” I smiled up at him, “but then again none of my wishes will ever come true.”
Muffled groans sounded from the back of the bus, and I knew John was finally regaining consciousness. I tried to shift in my seat, playing with the little slack I had from the chains, but the Keeper quickly pinned my torso with the back of his arm. “He will get you killed.”
“He is the only reason that I am still alive!” And it was true. John was the only person that cared enough to check in on me after my father left. We shared that bond, both of us had our father taken, and both of us hated the new rulers. We had spent hours planning our escape, but now neither of us would see the world we envisioned for ourselves.
I knew when John came to, everyone on the bus knew. My name was shouted over the hushed whispers of the other Testers. It was a tortured, panicked plea, a plea that tightened a knot in my stomach knowing we were both in that situation because I had refused to run with him. I was in shackles, and he had been knocked unconscious because of me, but that was not even the worse part; the most unbearable of it all was that we were, for the first time in ten years, separated.
I owed my life to John in more ways than one. Not only did he save me through physical protection, but he saved me just by being there for me; he was the only one that ever was. When our fathers left, we remained inseparable.
I refused to allow him to be distraught with the thought of me. I did not care what the Keeper that had restrained me would do, I was going to give John what he needed, and that was peace of mind.
I pulled at the slack in my chains, and once again, the Keeper shot me a vile look of warning, I ignored it.
“It’s ok, John!” I shouted over my shoulder, “I’m here!”
I could feel the collective gasps of the frightened Testers around me. They knew all too well that none of us were permitted to defy the orders of any that ruled under The Supremacy.