Forager - the Complete Six Book Series (A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Series)

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Forager - the Complete Six Book Series (A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Series) Page 102

by Peter R Stone


  My face flushed hot and a roaring sound filled my ears. A dread stronger than I had ever felt consumed me as I realised the enormity of what I’d done. My hands were stained red with the blood of innocents. I was worse than Con, Matt, Jack and my brother.

  “Those people are dead because of you, aren’t they?” Mr. Cho spoke sternly, his accusing gaze attributing the blame for the disaster entirely upon me.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  He left me simmering in my misery for some time before speaking again. “We have three choices of where we can go from here, Chelsea. You could be executed for your crimes, as the law dictates. You could serve a life sentence lamenting what you have done. Or you could spend the rest of your life working to redeem yourself.”

  “Redeem myself?”

  “Atone for your mistakes by serving the Chancellor in making Newhome a safer place, from both internal and external threats. Finding likeminded, dangerous dissidents and report them so that there can never be such a tragic loss of life again. Expose traitors among the Custodians and officials. Scout out the ruins looking for external threats. And then, when your life comes to a close, you can look back on it and reflect that out of that one terrible tragedy came a life of good. A life of correcting and preventing similar tragedies. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  My thoughts felt as though they were moving with the consistency of molasses, but everything he said still made sense. I also felt a sense of astonishment. My impression of Mr. Cho was that he was without mercy, yet here he was displaying that exact quality.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “Think on it some more – you have a decision to make.” He scooped the photos off the floor.

  I didn’t see him leave – wasn’t sure he was there in the first place, for the persuasive, irresistible voice returned moments later. It continued to speak of the need to redeem myself and of the virtues of the Founders’ wisdom and the benefits of the unique society they created. It spoke of the chancellor and councillors, and how they were worthy of respect and honour, how they should be revered and esteemed. How I needed to serve and obey the chancellor without question because he was right in all his ways.

  After that, the voice presented line after line from the Founders’ Manual, exhorting me to take it all to heart.

  Interspersed with brief periods of eating, I listened and absorbed every word. I had to atone for my crimes, I had to make the loss of my sister, Sofia, and all those others, mean something.

  * * *

  Someone shook my shoulder. I forced my eyes open and saw Madison kneeling beside me.

  “You going to sleep forever?” She didn’t look impressed.

  Pushing myself to a sitting position, I looked around, confused and disorientated. I was in a small round room with a concrete floor and white walls, metal washbasin and toilet. It seemed extremely familiar, like something I’d seen in my dreams. I had no idea what time it was. It felt like late afternoon or early evening.

  “Where am I?” I asked. I felt like I’d slept for days. The last vestiges of disturbing nightmares were slowly fading from my consciousness.

  “The Round Room.” She handed me a neatly folded stack of clean clothes. “Shower and get dressed. Seon Saeng Nim Cho wants to see you.”

  The mention of the councillor’s name brought back the horrific consequences of my selfish actions. My sister, Sofia, all those foragers and their families, dead or enslaved. If I could only go back in time, I would do it all differently. I would have willingly endured the torment dished out by the debt collectors if it meant the others could have avoided such a terrible fate.

  I fought back tears as I thought of Sofia and her inspiring, gentle nature. Having suffered more than most, she had somehow remained positive. And for what – to be caught or butchered by Skel? All because of my selfishness?

  The memory of the last time I saw my sister burst into my mind. She was standing before the town’s open gates, trying to spot me in the darkness while I was taking down Jack and Matt. I was supposed to go out with her and protect her and the others from the Skel using echolocation. Instead, I remained behind so I could stop Ryan from bleeding out. I figured Gerry and the other foragers would protect her and get her safely to Ballarat, but I couldn’t have been more wrong!

  I was suddenly visited by a vague yet strangely compelling memory of Mr. Cho giving me the chance to atone for my crimes. Only by serving the chancellor in keeping the town free from internal and external threats could I be freed from the crippling condemnation I felt. But could a life of good deeds alleviate the horrific guilt and anguish that tormented my heart and mind now?

  “We haven’t got all day,” Madison prompted.

  I scrambled to my feet, and with muscles strangely stiff and unresponsive, followed her to the girl’s communal bathroom.

  As hot water cascaded over me, I squatted on the shower floor and rested my head on my arms. I pondered what had transpired to bring me to the lab, the very place I feared more than any other.

  It was only a couple of weeks ago but it felt more like a lifetime had passed since I stood with Ryan outside the prison-factory. He had inclined his head and whispered into my ear so Madison couldn’t overhear what he said.

  “There’s something else I need to tell you,” he said. “I need you to go to the Genetics Laboratory and find out what the geneticists are really up to. And when you uncover what it is, report back to me. I’m one of several citizens very concerned about what’s going on in there. You’re our first and probably only chance of getting an agent inside.”

  Ryan was a Custodian Undercover Operative, but also a whole lot more. He was a member of a clandestine organisation concerned about the future of the town under the chancellor’s leadership. In particular, they were concerned about what the geneticists were working on in the lab. He said they had finished genetically modifying vegies, fruit, and poultry decades ago, and wanted to know what had occupied their time ever since.

  That’s why I was here. To uncover that information and get it back to him somehow. But right here, right now, in the light of the deaths of the foragers and their families, I wondered if it even mattered. I also wondered if I should blindly trust Ryan and the shadowy organisation he worked for. Who were they? What were their objectives? Were they trustworthy?

  I suddenly remembered that Madison was waiting for me outside the bathroom. I washed quickly and dressed in a full-sleeved, ankle length navy blue dress identical to the one she wore. That done, I hurried from the bathroom, my fingers weaving my damp strawberry-blonde hair into a thick braid.

  Madison gave me a withering look. “Took your time.”

  “Sorry.”

  “This way.”

  She took me to an office at the other end of the first floor and I was summoned inside. Mr. Cho was seated at a large mahogany desk with his back to a window overlooking the street. Metal filing cabinets and bookshelves stacked with binders rather than books cluttered the room. A red, white and blue flag with a central red star hung in one corner. Reports and sheafs of paper littered the desk. There was even a white and black officer’s uniform hanging on a mannequin in the corner.

  “Sit.”

  I sat tentatively in one of the refurbished leather backed chairs before his desk, but kept my eyes lowered. I was too ashamed to look up. I wasn’t the girl who turned the town upside down, but the girl whose selfish actions brought about the deaths of ninety people.

  “How do you view the chancellor, Chelsea?” Mr. Cho asked. Strangely, Bhagya Singhe, the living lie detector, was not present. Maybe her services were not required after my stint in the Round Room.

  “He is the epitome of the Founders’ teachings, Sir. An enlightened leader, who by his matchless wisdom and great knowledge guides us towards a better future. And...” my voice trailed off. I didn’t feel like talking. I just wanted to hide under a table somewhere and curl into a ball.

  “Yes?”

  “I am not worthy of
the opportunity afforded me to serve him,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Because of my crimes, Sir.” The faces of those I had let down fled through my mind in agonisingly slow motion.

  “What do you think about the chancellor’s benevolent offer to redeem yourself?” he asked.

  “I will serve him to the best of my ability to the day I die, protecting him and his enlightened vision of a better future for the inhabitants of this town.”

  Mr. Cho leaned forward. “Is being true to yourself more important to you than anything else?”

  “Sir, I must be true to the Founders’ teachings and the chancellor. Everything else, including my own naive, insignificant opinions, are of secondary importance.”

  “What of other Australian towns – towns like Ballarat. Do you think they are flourishing?” he asked.

  “How can they be, Sir? They have learned nothing from the Apocalypse. They continue to live in the same manner as their forebears, and in doing so, sow the seeds of their own destruction.”

  The councillor leaned forward. “What do you think should be done with these towns?”

  “They need to be shown the error of their ways and introduced to the Founders’ teachings.”

  “Forcibly?”

  “If need be. The world cannot survive another nuclear holocaust.”

  Mr. Cho leaned back, his face devoid of expression. “Are you aware, Chelsea, that when I asked you these same questions a few days ago, your answers were markedly different? What do you think about that?”

  I looked down. “I...I remember what I told you previously, Sir, but I can’t believe I used to think like that. That I was so caught up in myself and in what I wanted, even to the detriment of others. I see everything more clearly now. My eyes have been opened to my erroneous ways, and I regret my previous beliefs and actions.”

  Mr. Cho pushed back his chair and stood. He stretched out a hand. I hesitantly accepted the crushing grip. “Chelsea Thomas, I am pleased with the progress you have made after your stint in the Round Room. I officially welcome you to the Council Specialist Unit.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Dismissed.”

  I bowed in respect as I witnessed Madison do previously, and then took my leave.

  Although Madison was waiting for me outside the door, her attitude seemed to have softened somewhat. I guessed that with hearing as advanced as mine, she heard every word spoken between the councillor and myself. Perhaps she no longer viewed me as a potential dissident tarnished by the misconceptions of my upbringing.

  “Hungry?” she asked.

  “Not really.”

  “All the same, you need to eat to get your strength back. Come, breakfast is about to be served.”

  “Breakfast?” It was morning?

  “You lose track of time in the Round Room,” she said.

  She took me to the cafeteria, a moderately sized eating area with tables and chairs that could seat two dozen. It led into a kitchen area with a large fridge, walk in pantry, oven, microwave, stove, and dishwasher. All top quality, built in our own manufactories.

  Some girls sat at the tables, eating cereal, toast, and fruit, while others prepared their breakfast in the kitchen. They all wore long navy blue dresses like mine. If not for the expressions of cold indifference or barely concealed hostility that most of them wore, I could feel like I belonged here. I wondered if my “sisters” would ever warm up to me and accept me, or would I forever remain an outcast.

  “It’s self serve,” Madison said before striding into the pantry without a further glance in my direction.

  A girl with a heart-shaped face and a ponytail paused as she walked past me, holding a bowl of muesli – a cereal containing rolled oats, grains, nuts, and dried fruit. I remembered her because she had been the most hostile when I was brought to the lab. Her name was Romy if memory served.

  “What’s she doing here?” she said, glaring at me.

  Chapter Four

  “Been officially welcomed into the unit,” Madison called out gruffly from the pantry.

  “By Seon Saeng Nim Cho?” Romy asked.

  “Who else.”

  My face reddened from embarrassment when I realised they must all know that I was the one responsible for the breakout and the subsequent loss of everyone who fled Newhome. I felt like an utter failure and suddenly wanted to flee the room – but where would I go? Not only was I locked in the Genetics Lab, I couldn’t get away from myself or from what I did.

  “Don’t you think she should prove herself first?” Romy was speaking to Madison but it was clear she was trying to involve everyone present.

  A Chinese girl at one of the tables pushed back her chair and came over to us. She had a gentle round face, with long black hair that shone in the artificial fluorescent lighting. She was the same height as Romy, and a couple of inches shorter than I was.

  She touched my arm gently, flashing a hesitant smile. “Welcome to the group, Chelsea. I’m Suyin.” She turned to Romy. “Go easy on her, eh? She’s one of us now.”

  “Just like that?” Romy said.

  “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

  Romy took a step closer, transfixing me with her light brown eyes. “She’s been out there too long. One session in the Round Room is not enough to bring her to her senses.”

  “I will serve the chancellor to the best of my abilities, just like the rest of you,” I said, breaking eye contact when I recalled the reasons I had to work harder. I had the blood of ninety innocent people on my hands.

  “Is that right?” Romy mocked.

  “Let the girl eat, Romy. There’s a time and a place, and this is not it,” Madison said as she came to join us. She spoke with a tone that brooked no argument.

  Romy scowled but went to sit at a table. It looked as if Madison had some form of seniority here.

  “Come on, I’ll show you around the kitchen,” Suyin said, with a flick of her head indicating I should follow her.

  Five minutes later, I was seated at one of the tables with a bowl of muesli sprinkled with pieces of fruit.

  Suyin and two others joined me. “Remember Jess and Liz?” she asked. Jess was quite tall. She rat ramrod straight and wore her auburn hair in a ponytail.

  “Sorry, the events of the last few days have been a bit of a blur,” I replied.

  “Few days? You were gone almost two weeks, Chelsea,” Jess said.

  “Two weeks?” I was flabbergasted. Snatches of memories assaulted me from the time I spent in the Round Room. Food trays shoved under the door. Being unable to sleep. Mr. Cho, and the insistent, droning voice. But in no way did it feel like two weeks.

  “Did the trick, though, didn’t it – the time you spent in there? The Round Room is the perfect place to get away from the distractions of the world so we can absorb and embrace the Founders’ wisdom,” Lisa said. She was tall too, her lily white skin contrasting sharply with her dark brown hair.

  “I see everything in a different light now,” I said as I forced myself to eat. The food was infinitely better than the muck they served us in the homeless shelter, but I barely noticed. Guilt had a knack of destroying your appetite.

  Suyin patted me on the back. “Cheer up, Chelsea. We’ve all had the honour of experiencing the Round Room.”

  “Some more than others.” Jess said, sending a smirk in Liz’s direction.

  “Hey, I’m not the record holder anymore.” Liz pouted.

  “No, that honour goes to the newly crowned Miss Chelsea Thomas here.” Suyin laughed, trying to diffuse the tension.

  “I was in there the longest?” I asked.

  “Don’t let it worry you. The older you are when they bring you in, the longer it takes to deprogram you.”

  “So Liz was the last girl brought here?”

  Liz nodded. “I was twelve when they found me.”

  “Chelsea, how on earth did you manage to evade discovery until you were – sorry, how old are you?” Jes
s asked, leaning forward.

  “Twenty,” I replied. “I avoided discovery because the geneticist who modified us came to me in the market when I was five. He told me not to echolocate or let anyone know about my superior hearing.”

  “That was Dr. Zhao. He gave that warning to all of us before he took his own life,” Liz said.

  “Then how did the rest of you get caught?”

  “Didn’t heed his advice. I used to echolocate all the time,” Suyin said. “Got discovered when I was six. Just like Romy over there.”

  “Got outed by one of their ultrasonic screech tests,” Jess said.

  I hated those “screech tests.” I was in the market with my mother the first time I heard one. A squad of Custodians carrying a strange CD-player with large speakers suddenly rocked up. The next thing I knew, a piercing screeching noise in the ultrasonic range assaulted my ears. It was so loud it was like having a nail driven through my head. I remember biting the insides of my cheeks to stop myself from clutching my ears in pain, which was exactly what they were looking for. Had I done so, they would have carted me away. The Custodians played the noise a couple more times, and left when no one reacted. My brother had warned me about these “tests” after they conducted one at school.

  “And you, Liz?” I looked questioningly at her.

  “Couldn’t keep my mouth shut about having superior hearing. Someone told the Custodians,” she said.

  “So you were the unlucky one, Chelsea,” Suyin said. “Stuck out there, living in fear and trying to hide what you were, instead of being in here with us, going to school, learning taekwondo, and getting trained in espionage techniques so you can serve the chancellor,” Suyin said.

  “You go to school?” I couldn’t believe my ears. It was illegal for girls to attend school in Newhome. As homemakers, it was our lot in life to learn how to make clothes, cook, and raise a family.

 

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