by Nicole Sobon
The day that Angela died was easily one of the worst days of my life. And the pain from that day forward had only grown worse as the Outbreak destroyed everything.
But all of that was nothing compared to my mother’s execution.
At the age of seventeen, residents were expected to take up a position within the guard. Girls, however, were given two options: either join the guard, or join the clinic.
My mother refused to allow me to do either, desperate to protect me, having already lost one child. And it was her refusal that led to her death and our relocation to the Widowed Sector since we were no longer of use to the Family Sector.
Troum tried to tell us that she was a hazard to our world, a danger - something which she wasn’t. My mother was a caring woman. Her actions that day proved as much. She died because she loved me too much to bear the thought of me becoming nothing more than an extension of Troum.
That was the first time that I questioned his actions.
I had an idea of what our lives would be like upon being relocated to the Widowed Sector. But it was just that, an idea, nowhere near close to what my reality actually was.
Troum had made promises, and like a fool, we had believed in them. What else did we have to believe in? It wasn’t until we were face to face with the lies, and the pain that we saw the truth, and by then, we had already lost so much.
It was impossible to fight – there was nothing left to fight for.
Until she came around.
We moved quietly, sticking to the shadows along the buildings. Sneaking out of the Sectors could result in death if caught, and I wasn’t ready to die just yet, especially when I had yet to live.
“Do you remember where the opening is?” I kept my voice low as I turned to face my father. He pointed up ahead. The wall was covered with thinning bushes and mounds of rocks. Behind it all, there was an opening wide enough for an adult to fit through without trouble.
We wouldn’t have known it existed, just as I was sure the others failed to acknowledge its existence, had it not been for my spying. I was standing near my bedroom window, my hand holding the torn curtain back so that I could gaze up at the night sky, when I spotted something moving near the back wall, lingering in the shadows.
They were dressed in black clothing, their weapons strung across their chests as if preparing for battle. I probably should have been concerned about that, but my focus was solely on their method of exiting the Sector.
I didn’t know what stood on the other side of the wall, nor did I care.
What mattered was that there was a way out.
I glanced up at the tablets lining the Sector. Her image was plastered on each one. Her red hair shone like fire, her eyes, a vivid shade of green, gave me hope – that maybe, just maybe there was a chance that the world hadn’t died out around us.
There had to be more people outside of this state. There had to be.
“Ten years,” my father sighed. “Do you remember what life was like before the Sectors?”
“Yes.” At times, it was hard to remember that the life I’d lived before the Sectors wasn’t just a dream and that our old world had, in-fact, existed. And then the Outbreak came, and the world went to complete shit.
I remember the day that we were forced to leave our home.
One minute I was sitting on my bed, talking to my best friend on the phone, and then the phone went dead, and the world fell silent.
But the silence didn’t last long.
Screams filled the air shortly after. No one knew what was going on, and that only added to the chaos. Everyone was desperate for answers, but we never got them.
All we knew was that we were on our own.
My parents led us to an abandoned building not too far from our house.
The concrete walls, fully encompassed of vines, provided a temporary security from the unknown. But Temporary wasn’t forever, and when the time came for us to leave in search of a new home, we found ourselves constantly on the verge of death.
Desperation had the ability to drive a person mad, that was something that the Outbreak had taught me. We all liked to believe that we would never hurt another human being, but when it came down to survival, morals no longer existed.
“Do you think things have gotten better since then?”
Based on the solemn look on his face, I could tell that my father wasn’t sure. “I don’t know what we’re going to face once we leave this Sector, Ana, but that is a chance I’m willing to take. The question is, are you?”
“More than ever.” For the first time in what felt like forever, a smile crept upon my lips. A real, genuine smile.
I’d forgotten what it had felt like to be happy, to feel excitement, but I knew know that this is what I’d wanted. This is what my mother would have wanted for us. She wouldn’t have wanted me to live in this Sector as a servant. She wanted me to have so much more.
Sure, it would have been safer to standby and allow Troum and Palin to continue to rule my life, but that would have only resulted in a life of regret, and I was too young for that.
I needed to live, to feel free, and to love. I needed to know what the world held outside of this state, and this was my chance.
I reached for my father’s hand and led us to the bushes, careful to move quickly and silently. The opening was approximately five-feet-tall and close to seven-feet-wide. Had the bushes not been in the way, it definitely would have been visible.
We’d had people try to escape the Sectors before only to have been executed, but it had been some time since the last escapee. Troum had become far too comfortable in our faith in him. He had no reason to worry in his eyes. If he had, this opening wouldn’t still be here.
“His ego will be his downfall,” I mumbled.
“My bet is on the young girl,” my father smirked, releasing my hand.
He waited for me to enter the opening first, staying behind me to keep an eye on the Sector, making sure that we weren’t being followed. When I made it safely to the other side of the wall, he slipped through the opening and moved in beside me.
We stood in awe for a moment, admiring the world we’d left behind ten years ago.
Troum had told us that the world outside of the Sectors was where people went to die. And for the longest time, I had believed him – we all had. But seeing was believing, and the world that sat before me was home, not hell.
“We need to get going,” my father said, struggling to collect himself. He grabbed a hold of my hand and pulled me along beside him. “We’ve made it too far to get caught now, Ana. We need to go. The guards are still out searching for her.”
I glanced over at him and took note of the smile plastered on his face. It was the first time I’d seen him smile since her murder. He was a strong man, a loving man, and he did everything that he could for me, but when it came down to it, he missed her. It was hard on him. He found a way to survive, to go on day in and day out, but something was always missing: hope.
He’d lost all hope after her murder.
If she couldn’t protect us, if she couldn’t stand against Troum successfully, how was he supposed to? I knew that he wanted more for me, he’d told me so himself, but I also knew he feared what would happen if he fought back. I couldn’t lose him, too.
“Thank you,” the words slipped out of my mouth as we crept through the canopy of trees ahead. “For doing your best.”
“I know I wasn’t as strong or courageous as your mother,” my father’s voice grew shaky, “but it was only because I didn’t want you to have to suffer on your own. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being forced to have to constantly battle for your survival in the Homeless Sector had they murdered me too. You deserved so much more than I was able to give you, but I tried my hardest, Ana. I tried-“
His words were drowned out by the blaring of the sirens.
Boots slammed against the dirt floor, each step heavy with purpose.
My first instinct was to run, but my father
stopped me, his hand wrapping firmly around my forearm. “You know just as well as I do that the guards will take us in with a Kill Order if they find us. We need to return home.”
I nodded solemnly. What other choice did we have?
Hovercopters began to swarm the night sky causing the winds to pick up below, the air forcing the dirt to beat against us as we made our way back home.
A guard passed by us dressed in typical black attire, his rifle ready in his grasp.
“Stay low,” my father urged, pulling me down beside him.
A tall figure appeared near the edge of the Sector. I watched silently as it moved closer towards the guard. The moon shone down over the Sector, illuminating her blonde hair. She stopped mere inches from the boy. “Has it been set?”
The guard nodded in response. “Yes, Ma’am. Troum said to let you know that everything is set for tomorrow after noon. Residents will be ushered to the beach via the Hovercopters tomorrow.”
“Then it is settled.”
The sirens had awoken most of the residents within the Sector, which made it easier for us to sneak back inside of our apartment. As soon as I closed the door behind me, my father began pacing the front room. “He’s up to something,” he said, pressing his finger to his bottom lip.
“What do you think it is?” I questioned.
“I’m not entirely sure.” He took a seat on the lone wooden chair that sat near the back of the small front room. “But I can only imagine that whatever it is that Troum has planned is nothing good for us. He’s desperate, worried that she has the power to take him down, and he isn’t going to go down without a fight.”
We knew that all too well.
He’d showcased as much when it came to my mother.
She protested, and he issued a Kill Order for her – signing off on her murder.
“So what do we do? How do we protect ourselves from the unknown?”
My father mulled over my words for a moment before answering, “We fight, just as we did during the Outbreak.”
It sounded simple enough, but I knew better than to believe that.
A knock sounded at the front door, alarming both me and my father. What do we do? I mouthed. He signaled for me to stay put as he made his way over to the front door. He lowered his head briefly, taking a deep breath before he opened the front door. “Hello, Sir. How may I help you tonight?”
The guard pushed past my father, allowing himself into the front room. “Good evening,” his voice was stern, almost robotic. “I am here tonight to deliver an important message from our savior, Troum.”
“Go on,” my father said, nodding.
“There will be a mandatory evacuation tomorrow. We have reason to believe that the ocean may impose a threat upon the Sectors. In order to ensure that residents are safe, Troum will be relocating residents to a safe location. Be at the gate at 10 AM tomorrow morning. The Hovercopters will be waiting to usher all residents to safety.”
We thanked the guard for his time before he let himself out, preparing to visit another residence.
“How would they know?” My father was talking to himself, eager to make sense of the guard’s words. “It’s impossible!”
One of the traits my father had developed during his time as a reporter was that he tended to talk to himself when he was struggling to piece together a story.
I leaned against the wall, my hands crossed at my waist. “What do you mean?”
“There’s no way that they could have predicted that the ocean would impose a threat at a specific time tomorrow. How could you possibly predict Mother Nature?”
And he was right.
Before the Outbreak, when the weatherman for our local news channel had to report on the weather for the week, about 98% of the time, he had been wrong. It was hard to predict what to expect when, at any given moment, one tiny matter could alter everything.
Without another word, he moved towards the back shelf, a wooden crate within his grasp. He tossed cans of food inside of the crate, all the while mumbling to himself.
“Here,” he handed me an empty crate. “Gather all of the cereal, we’re going to need to need it.”
I tossed the cereal into the crate, growing more worried with each passing second. “What is going on, Dad?”
“Ana, we need to talk.” He lowered the crate onto the ground and took a seat on the wooden chair. “Before the Outbreak, I received messages that something terrible was headed our way.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “I received tons of anonymous packages: lab results, images of those affected, scans of government documents, each a warning of the looming Outbreak.”
“Someone was trying to tell me the truth, Ana, and I ignored it then, refusing to believe that the government could be behind something so vile. But now? After seeing how secretive Troum is, and how willing he is to murder innocent people, I no longer doubt that he had something to do with it. I am not sure what, but he has grown desperate and that is dangerous.”
Sure enough, at 10 AM on the dot, the Hovercopters were ready and waiting near the entrance of the Sector. Guards lined the walkways, each dressed in their uniforms, their rifles slung across their chests. Their faces were so empty, lifeless.
Residents gathered at the front of the Sector, waiting for some sort of instruction, growing more nervous with each passing second while me and my father looked on from the back. We’d gathered our crates, positioning them near the opening in the wall. Thankfully, the Sector was swarming with residents, so it was easy to move about undetected.
Images began to flash on the tablets lining the Sector. Lines grew fuzzy on the screens as the signal struggled to come through. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Troum’s voice echoed through the Sector, effectively silencing the anxious residents.
His face filled the tablet screens, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “As you are all aware, my scientists have found reason to believe that the ocean may impose a threat to our safety. As a safety precaution, I’ve decided to relocate each Sector. If you would please form one line, the guards will assist you with boarding a Hovercopter. And may you all remain safe.”
I had expected the residents to panic, to run for shelter. But they had done the exact opposite. They’d obeyed the guards without question, completely unaware of what they’d given up by boarding the Hovercopters.
If there was one thing I’d learned about Troum, it was that his promises held no weight.
We watched as the lines dwindled down. The last of the residents boarded the Hovercopters, leaving me and my father to stare on in disbelief. They’d fallen for it. Each and every one of them.
“Something isn’t right,” I whispered, plopping down on the dirt ground.
“No, it isn’t.” I could see the worry on my father’s face, the uncertainty. “I wonder how many of them just signed off on their deaths.”
It was something I’d wondered myself.
Who would survive?
Who would die?
“I thought that things were supposed to get better after the Outbreak?”
My father smirked. “They should’ve. But you have to remember dear, we were desperate during the Outbreak. We willingly handed over our freedom in search of protection. Our fears built the world as we know it today. Our fears gave Troum power.”
“What is it going to take to stop him?”
He reached for my hand and pulled himself up. “The answer is right here,” he said, his hand pressed against his chest. “The answer is inside of each and every one of us. In order to defeat him, to tear down everything we’ve come to know over the past decade, it is going to take strength.”
I glanced over at the tablets, at the words that were printed above her photo. Kill Order.
Deep down, even though I hadn’t known her, I knew she had it in her to change everything – to give us a new start.
Maybe it was ridiculous to place my hope in someone I hadn’t even met.
But really, what else could I do?
“I wish I had her courage,” I sighed, pulling myself up.
My father placed his hand on my shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. “My dear, Ana. You are stronger than you realize. You love, you feel, you want. You haven’t lost yourself to this world, to Troum and his ways. You are a very strong young woman, much like your mother.”
Tears pooled at the corners of my eyes. There was something reassuring about his words, a source of comfort when it felt like everything around me was crumbling. “Thank you.”
He grinned. “No need to thank me, my dear.”
“Shall we get going?”
My father nodded. “To a new beginning.”
“A new beginning.”
And then the water came.
RARE TALENTS
“There is no need to make this difficult, Parker.” Bentley Wilson, the head honcho of Covera Corporations, leaned against the steel table, a cultivated smirk etched upon his lips. His suit jacket was torn, and his chalk white hair was disarray, a result of my aversion to being captured. “Either way, you will do as you are told.”
I’d spent my entire life living in fear, knowing that, at any given moment, Covera Corporations could come for me. They’d been after my Rare talent for years. To Covera Corporation, I was the ultimate weapon. My touch, just a single touch, could kill.
My mother did her best to protect me – we moved every couple of years, taking on new identities each time we did so. And it worked, until three days ago, when Bentley’s men broke down our front door.
With my hands cuffed behind my chair, I leaned forward and growled. “I’m glad you seem to think that. Keep lying to yourself, Bentley.” I tried snapping the chains binding my hands, but with each movement, the metal cuffs dug deeper into my skin. A burning sensation erupted beneath my flesh. I howled in pain, and Bentley laughed.