by Ann Bakshis
I’m drenched in sweat and tears. I begin to retch as Terrance’s face floats back into my mind. Of all the people I’ve met in the past few months, for it to come down to Terrance….
Quin clutches me tightly, trying to get me to settle down.
I hear feet pounding down the hallway; Braxton and Rabaan are next to enter.
“What happened?” Braxton shouts.
“She’s had a nightmare,” Quin answers, brushing my wet hair from my face.
I hang onto him as a life-line, fearing if I let go I’ll be sucked back in, to the vision of Terrance murdering my family and friends….
“That must’ve been some nightmare,” Rabaan adds. “We heard her all the way downstairs.”
Sobs shake my body and I’m suddenly chilled to the bone. Quin wraps me up in my blanket as Braxton and Rabaan leave. He cradles me, rocking me gently.
“It was Terrance,” I whisper to him. “He did it. Terrance he killed them.”
“It was just a nightmare,” Quin tries to reassure me.
“No, it wasn’t.” I gently pull myself away from his hold. “I remember it all now. He tossed detonators into one of the girls’ bedchambers, then closed the door just before they ignited.”
“How would he have gotten the door open, Trea? He would’ve needed access to the biometrics reader in order to do that.”
“He did. He had a severed hand in his palm, which is how he opened and closed the door.”
“Are you sure?”
I take a deep sigh before answering.
“Yes.”
Quin gets up from the bed, hands rubbing the side of his head. He puts his arms around me again and holds me tightly. I feel warmth grow between us, which I haven’t felt in a while. We stand there for several minutes, neither of us wanting to move. Eventually sleep overtakes us. I crawl under my blankets, Quin by my side.
When I wake in the morning he’s gone.
I don’t leave my room at all the next day. Even when Jagger makes the effort to check on me, I turn him away. Quin brings me my meals, but I hardly eat. I feel myself wasting away. Knowing the truth behind who destroyed the Dormitories has taken its toll on me.
How could this be? He was my friend. I trusted him. I risked my life for him.
The next morning a constant pounding on my door rouses me from bed. I try to ignore the noise by putting the pillow over my head, but the banging won’t stop. I drag myself out of bed to go yell at the person disturbing me.
“Good morning, Trea,” Superior Hersher announces, looking severe in a crisp blue suit, hair tightly pulled back into a chignon. “Captain Braxton has informed me that you’re not feeling too well. Is there anything I can do to assist you?” Her manner is cool and matter of fact, not at all comforting.
“No, I’m fine.”
She hesitates a few moments to take stock of my appearance and demeanor. “Come with me please,” she demands more than requests. I get dressed and reluctantly follow.
We take the stairs up to the main floor, and walk over the connection bridges to the Predestination Center’s entrance. Eryn is waiting for us, a bland expression on her pristine face. She enters in a code on her side of the door, which quietly slides open. We pass through, after which the door closes and locks behind us.
“Newborns to six year olds live and learn in this building,” the Superior explains. “Each child has a purpose. Some will become teachers, doctors and nurses, others will be trained as Regulators and guards for the High Ruler and Superiors. The remaining children are coded to be Laics, to live and work in the Boroughs.”
She pauses briefly, making sure I’m paying close attention.
“The room directly in front of us is the Destiny room. Infants and toddlers up to age two are monitored and observed here to see what qualities they may exhibit.”
We cross the hall and enter into a large room segregated into smaller areas by half walls. Each section has several children of one particular age group. “When the children are close to turning three years old, a code is embedded into their wrists, which marks them for life. This code tells the instructors what purpose the child will have for the rest of their existence.”
“Why?”
“Why? To assist in population control and to keep the Laics in their place, of course. Tyre does the same thing. They have several of their own hatcheries, as does Acheron.”
“What about children who are born in the Boroughs? You can’t predestine them.”
“There’s no breeding in the Boroughs,” Eryn states, grimacing at the idea. “We take measures early in a child’s life to ensure this doesn’t occur. There are incentives given to women who feel an obligation to assist in the creation of children. They’re sent to live in a hatchery for several years, giving birth to four or five children, after which they are sterilized and sent back to the Boroughs.”
It’s my turn to grimace. The idea of using people as breeding machines repels me.
“It’s not as horrible as it sounds,” Superior Hersher says in reaction to the face I make. “Many of the women are happy to do this, as they know they’re contributing to the wellness of society.”
“What about the citizens of Acheron and Tyre?”
“They are limited to only two or three children. That’s to prevent overcrowding, since the cities’ limits are very confined.”
“There’s plenty of space out in the Wasteland,” I remark, trying to suggest its better there than in the cities.
“That land, my dear, is contaminated from the many wars fought on this soil over the last century and a half. Those who decide to live out in the Wasteland are doomed to have short lives. The cities could only clean up so much of Sirain to make it inhabitable.”
Knowing the Wasteland as I do, I have sincere doubts about what the Superior is telling me. Perhaps it’s a story that was passed down from generations to keep those in the cities and Boroughs from leaving.
I turn my attention away from Superior Hersher and watch as one little curly-blond-haired girl tries to pull herself up into a standing position using a small chair. The nurse is monitoring her progress very carefully. She is the smallest in her group, yet appears to be far more advanced than her peers. After several minutes of effort, she accomplishes her goal. The nurse takes down some notes on an electronic pad and moves onto another group of children.
“What happens after they’re coded?”
“The children are moved down to their respective rooms below the main level. Every day they are brought up to this floor and conditioned in the rooms designated for their occupation. When they reach the age of seven, they’re transferred to the Developmental Quad, where they’re trained until the age of thirteen. From there, they are moved to their permanent dwellings where they’ll live and work for the remainder of their life.”
“And you don’t think there is anything wrong with this?”
“Really, Miss,” Eryn begins, huffing away, “what kind of society do you want to have? How else will we survive if we don’t have order?”
Superior Hersher places her hand gingerly onto Eryn’s shoulder, calming the woman. She thanks Eryn for her time and we leave the room. Before we exit the building, the Superior places her hand on my arm, turning me to face her.
“I know it’s hard and it doesn’t seem fair, but Trea, you must remember everyone has a purpose. Whether it’s a destination we accept or not, we all have a purpose…even you. You need to determine what that purpose is.”
We return to the Intake Facility in silence. I go back to my room and watch the snow begin to fall again, harder with every passing hour. Quin brings me dinner after he’s done with his turn at patrol. I finish my plate, but still feel weighted down with what the Superior said.
My original purpose was to protect the cities. From what I’ve seen, the cities don’t need protecting as much as their people do. I need to decide where my loyalties lie.
Quin lies next to me, falling asleep the moment his head hits the
pillow. I, however, am feeling fitful and decide to take a walk, closing my bedroom door quietly as I leave.
Gage, Keller, and Hera are trying different frequencies in the communications room in an effort to reach someone in Acheron. I stand silently in the back of the room, listening as they tirelessly attempt to contact someone.
“Regulator Tower 1, do you read? This is Hatchery Nine, please advise,” Keller calls, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Regulator Tower 2, is anyone there?”
“Still can’t reach anyone?”
Gage turns around on his stool to look at me
“What’re you doing out of your room? I thought you’d permanently retreated into your cave.”
“I’m tired of being useless. I need something to do.”
“Go outside and see Rabaan, he could use some help with the patrol for tonight with all the snow that’s falling.”
I leave and head to the main floor. As I approach the entrance, Lehen comes in covered in snow, looking frozen to the bone.
“Hey stranger, I thought I was never going to see you again.”
“I’m jumping out of my skin from boredom. Gage told me Rabaan needs help with the patrol tonight.”
“Yes, he does. Let me go find you some protective gear.”
He disappears for a few moments, returning with a thick fur-lined white coat, matching pants, gloves, and boots. I cinch the hood around my head and pull on the gloves. The outfit makes me feel bulky and awkward, and Lehen says he feels the same way. We step outside into the snow.
Rabaan is surprised to see me, but hands me a Levin gun and a Beta rifle, and tells me to proceed north through the trees. He hands me a communications earpiece, which I place in my ear, and I head off down a small slope through ankle-deep snow, into the forest.
I walk with the Beta rifle pointing forward as the Levin gun bangs against my thigh. I reach the edge of the cliff to the north and look over. It drops straight down a good mile before hitting a plateau. There isn’t much to see in the dark, just pure white snow falling noiselessly to the ground.
My feet begin to get cold standing, so I walk along the rim going east. Off to my right in the distance I can see the lights from the housing unit. I continue my journey, passing the Predestination Center and the Developmental Quad, where I reach the edge of the cliff and double back. This is my routine for about an hour, then I retreat inside to get warm. The biometrics for the front entrance has been deactivated in order to allow those on patrol access in and out of the facility.
Once I’m inside, I remove my jacket, gloves, and boots, then place the Beta rifle up against the far wall. I pace back and forth in the foyer as there isn’t any place to sit down.
Ten minutes later, an ear-piercing alarm shatters the silence.
The lights above my head change from a soft white to a harsh red and begin to flash. After several seconds, the alarm decreases in volume, as a message is broadcast.
“Captain Braxton,” Hera announces, “please report to the security and communications room.” The message repeats several more times.
I run through the doors in my sock-covered feet, turn the corner, and head down the stairs. Braxton reaches the room just as I do.
“What is it?” he asks, as Hera gets up from her stool.
“The perimeter alarm by the first gate has been tripped,” she says in a surprisingly calm voice. “Nothing is appearing on the cameras, but we thought you should be notified.”
The panel in front of Gage displays the layout of the complex, as well as the location of all perimeter alarms. The alarm indicator to the top right of the panel is glowing red. A few seconds later another one illuminates on the top left of the panel. Although the cameras are in night mode, nothing is displaying on the monitors as yet.
I step closer to the screens, scanning every inch.
As the camera by the Developmental Quad rotates, I see my footprints, almost buried under the new layer of snow, along with a second set of fresh tracks.
“Rabaan,” I call through the device still in my ear.
“Yes, Trea?”
“Is anyone patrolling the far east perimeter past the Developmental Quad?”
“No, why?”
“We’ve got company.”
At that moment, the cameras that we had planted go dark. Hera pushes an emergency button on the panel in front of Gage. We watch on our screens as all windows and doors are coated with some type of film.
“What did you do?” I shout at her.
“Emergency protocol states that if there’s a breach of the complex, all windows and doors will be automatically coated with impenetrable film.”
“You’ve just locked out the guards on patrol!”
“Rabaan,” Braxton calls to him by pushing a button on the panel that controls the front entrance. “Rabaan, can you hear me?”
“Braxton, what happened? The door is sealed and we can’t get in.”
Braxton shoots Hera a dirty look. “Gather your men and try to find another way into the complex. The buildings are on lock down, but there might be another way for you to get in.”
Braxton turns to me. “Where’s Quintus?”
“He might be in my room.”
“Go get him and see if you two can get that front door open in case the patrol can’t find another way in.”
I leave, go up to the floor above, and run down the hall to my little section of the living quarters, slipping occasionally in my socked feet.
Quin is exiting my room when I enter.
“What’s going on?”
“The perimeter has been breached,” I say, as I sit down just long enough to remove the socks. “Hera placed the complex on lockdown, so Rabaan and the others on patrol outside can’t get back inside. You and I need to get up to the front entrance to try and open it.”
I strip off the pants, removing the Levin gun from the front pocket and tucking it into my waistband. We rush up to the main level, taking two steps at a time. As we exit through the doors into the entryway, we see bright blue flashes outside. Quin picks up the Beta rifle from where I left it. We take our places in front of the glass doors, weapons raised.
Rabaan is firing into the woods as he crouches behind one of the vehicles off to the right. Two Morrigan lay motionless on the ground a few meters to the left. I can’t tell if they’re dead or simply wounded. Lehen and three other Morrigan are standing their ground just a few feet from the bodies.
A deflagration round detonates in front of the entrance. Quin and I both duck, but the device doesn’t penetrate the glass. Another round hits one of the vehicles, sending shrapnel flying. Rabaan shrinks back against the building after taking a hit in the shoulder. Frustrated, I raise the Levin gun at the door and fire. The energy blast is absorbed by the film, a blue wave rippling through the clear coating, dissipating away from the initial hit.
Another explosion radiates a few feet away, shaking the building slightly.
I get close up to the glass to see where it hit, when I spot Rabaan dragging himself over to the door, legs badly wounded. Quin tries his turn at blasting the glass with the Beta rifle, but it has no effect. He drops the weapon and tries to manually force open the door. I drop down to my knees and try to assist by pushing on the lower half. From the corner of my eye, I see a bright blue glow begin to radiate from Quin. It pours into the doorframe as he applies more pressure.
The film begins to quiver, pieces fragmenting slightly. I look out and see Rabaan watching, his battered body leaning against the glass. His focus changes to my face, an expression of sadness on his. He places his right palm onto the glass. I mirror him, my hand pressing against his.
He might not have always been on the right side of this struggle, but he did what he could when asked. I can think of worse people in the world.
A burst of brightness causes my vision to momentarily falter.
Rabaan sinks to the ground as a hole is opened in his chest.
“No!” I scream, as the protective f
ilm on the entrance shatters.
Quin pushes the doors open. I pull Rabaan’s body in as Quin shouts for the others.
Two of the Morrigan take Rabaan from me as they enter, dragging him further in. I fire my Levin gun at the Hostem outside, trying to provide cover for Lehen as he and another wounded Morrigan limp their way towards us.
Once everyone is safe, Quin closes the door. The protective film for the entrance doesn’t reappear.
“Everyone to the emergency bunker,” I hear Superior Hersher announce over the speakers. “This is not a drill. Everyone must evacuate to the emergency bunker.”
“You heard the lady,” Lehen says.
He and Quin practically carry the Morrigan through the doors and down the hall to the connection bridge, but I linger behind, watching the door close behind the group.
I kneel next to Rabaan, closing his eyes, check his uniform, and locate a dozen detonators secured to a sash around his waist. Dark figures on my right slowly move forward from the shadows. Glass from the doors fragments as it’s hit. Another blast sprays the shards into the room, covering me.
I remove two detonators from Rabaan’s waist and set one for fifteen seconds. I throw the detonator out the door, and watch it land a few inches from a small group of Hostem. They are blown into pieces from the ensuing blast. I set the second one to twenty seconds and toss it outside as well, towards what remains of the vehicles. I remove the sash from Rabaan’s waist as the vehicles ignite.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to him.
I sprint off through the door, ignoring the cuts on my feet from glass shards that litter the tile, sling the belt around my shoulders, and secure the Levin gun in my waistband. As I pass through the set of doors for the connection bridge, I see children pouring from the Predestination Center, hurrying toward the emergency bunker’s entrance.
Shots are being fired at the glass of the bridge, but the protective film is preventing any real damage. With the lights of the complex shining brightly, I can see the full assault being led from the cliffs below. At least a hundred people are scaling the cliff face.
I bolt down the bridge, through the housing unit, and onto the other bridge. Women in various stages of pregnancy are shuffling as fast as they can towards the emergency bunker. I push my way past them. One of the windows on the bridge has been blown out, probably before the emergency protocol was put into place. Jagger, Keller, and Gage are rapidly firing down at the climbers below. I remove a detonator, set the time to ten seconds, and drop it out the window.