The government debated long and hard about settlements, and whether we should just put people in the bush and expect them to live. They eventually figured that would more likely just kill everyone since the human race is useless at the moment. Our method of breeding leaders—alphas, as we call them—who are raised to live off the earth, is fool proof. They are bred to survive naturally, and then they will teach the rest of humanity to do the same. We want you to be like those Amazonian tribes you used to see on documentations on the Discovery Channel. Completely reliant on only the natural world, and completely oblivious to anything else.”
People aren’t listening to her anymore. Ever since she mentioned children being taken, the people around me started muttering and gasping.
“Quiet! Any more questions?”
“Y-you’re going to make us give birth to them, and then you’re going to… take them from us?” A woman in her mid-thirties asks, hand over her heart.
A couple of women look absolutely appalled and sick to their stomachs. Given their age, they may have already had children. They know the joys of raising a child; a normal child who loves them. Having new life you’ve carried for nine months snatched away as soon as it’s born… I can think of nothing more barbaric than what the Biocentrics want to do.
“That’s the only way. We know you will all just raise them to be normal children, as you were raised, and we don’t want that. Normal children are vulnerable and helpless, but these will not be like that.”
As a few women cry out in disgust, my mind reels back to something I learnt in my earlier schooling days during ancient history lessons. My class had been learning about Sparta, an ancient civilisation of warriors who were supposed to have an austere lifestyle and had no other goal except to grow soldiers for their army. The government in Sparta divided up the land equally between its people, just like our government had with the settlements. People were expected to work on farms and have useful skills—things like arts and crafts were supposedly not valued at all. And in Sparta there were a group of young men named the Krypteia, who were supposed to be ruthless killers. Most of the boys who joined the Kryptiea became leaders of Sparta later in life. And the Kryptiea group was invented so they could control the populations of the slaves in the area: or, in other words, the people in the A settlements.
“It’s Sparta,” I say, just loudly enough for people to hear me. I look at Warden through the faces that have turned to look at me curiously.
“Well, yes,” Warden says, looking at me with wide eyes. She seems impressed by my deduction and clears her throat before continuing. “Sparta was indeed our model civilisation.”
I shake my head with a bitter laugh. “Did your government never hear of the Spartan mirage? Sparta wasn’t really only focused on its military. Archaeologists found evidence everywhere to point towards them being cultured people.”
“Well, their culture isn’t really what we are interested in,” Warden says clinically. “Anyhow, that’s all for today. I’ll see you all within a week.” She gives a quick scan of our faces. “A week in which we expect compliance to our goals.”
With that Warden turns on her heel, exits, and locks the steel doors behind her. We all stare after her, unable to speak. It isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but in reality, being forced to mate, give birth, and have your child taken is still several years of emotional hell.
I know why Warden left so quickly. She left so that she wouldn’t have to answer the question one of us was bound to ask, the question that would surely cause a riot: What would happen to the ten percent of babies that were not suitable from the original crop of one hundred and twenty? In Sparta, they used to throw any weak or deformed babies off cliffs and train the strong infants to be killers. I won’t be hanging around to be impregnated just so my child can either be murdered or turned into a vicious monster. I’ll escape this place just like I did the first arena. But how? Without Whil it doesn’t even seem possible. And I can’t leave him here.
“Well, let’s get down to business then,” Felix says with a chuckle.
His two floosy sidekicks giggle like idiots while the rest of us move away from him, sneering. I give him a sidelong glare. What a sick a man…
Isobelle takes my hand. “I wanna show you outside!”
I just want to sleep and forget about all that has happened today, but the young girl leads me over to the wall of windows and opens a heavy sliding door. The warm breeze that blows across my face restores my spirits. Tingling warmth fills my body, and I close my eyes for a moment, reassuring myself that things will be okay. I inhale deeply but don’t recognise the dry, earthen smell of the air.
The courtyard outside the facility is more like a park. There is springy, soft green grass underfoot and rows of colourful flowers growing around a stone water fountain. A few wooden park benches sit around the yard, shaded by weeping willow trees, which have unfortunately grown well away from the ten-foot high, metal fence that encloses the area. The fence looks exactly like the one in the Alps but more formidable and the mesh is so tightly woven that I can’t see through to the other side. Even if one of the willows were to fall, they wouldn’t flatten it—the fence would hold its weight.
I’m proud that I immediately search for an escape route, but then I notice that several guards are stationed around the courtyard, all armed with rifles. I look at each of them for long seconds, certain they are Seiger’s men, the ones who accompanied me in the horse drawn caravan, but I can’t be sure. They all look the same wearing those helmets and jumpsuits. With them watching my every move, I stop surveying my escape options and look around innocently.
To think that such a beautiful place exists for such a wicked purpose. The sun feels warm on my skin, and the air is fragrant with the scent of the flowers, but my body is rigged and tense.
People swarm out from behind Isobelle and me, pushing us out of the doorway so they can pass and access the courtyard. One couple sits down at a bench and begin playing chess. Others sit down under the willow trees and read books. There is even a small swimming pool at the other end of the courtyard, which a group sits in, splashing in the shallows and chattering casually. I feel my brow furrow with astonishment. They’re treating this prison like a holiday resort!
Paradise in hell.
“That’s Facility Two,” Isobelle says, pointing ahead.
Twenty metres away is a tall, chainmesh fence separating Facility One from Facility Two. I can see through this fence, unlike the ones that blocks my view of the world beyond the compound. On the other side of the fence is a courtyard identical to the one we are in. There are guards posted in Facility Two as well, and normal people, I assume they are Bs, also wander around the courtyard, enjoying the warmth of the day. And standing in a mob of talking people is…
“Whil!” I cry, my voice shrill. It feels as though the entire world stops spinning for a moment.
He spins around. The group of people he is talking with look towards me, eyebrows raised enquiringly. My legs surge forward. My mind becomes a fuzzy blur of ecstasy when I see his familiar face. As he sees me hurtling towards the fence, a horrified expression wipes over Whil’s features. He starts towards the fence at a run, yelling something, but I’m too thrilled to see him alive to hear what he says. I’m ten metres away, then ten steps away, one metre away from the fence when my hand reaches towards it.
A splinter of electrifying pain shoots up my arm. My head gives a thump like someone has clapped their hands hard over my ears. In one jarring motion, my legs give way and I hit the ground, feeling the electricity pulse through me with each shuddering pump of my heart. Groaning, I lean over and grasp my belly, which is suddenly alive with pain.
“Don’t touch it again!” Whil shouts.
I look up at him, my limbs twitching from the shock. He is pacing the fence in front of me, taking two strides and then whirling back the other way, watching me with intense eyes like a hawk. I’ve seen animals do this before. Animals in zoos pa
cing the fence, looking for a weakness: waiting for a weakness. Or pacing for their companion on the other side.
Whil’s bandage is gone, making his sooty hair fall over his forehead like it did when I first met him. His head wound isn’t bleeding. In fact, it looks like it has already been stitched closed and washed clean. The people here must have tended to it properly when he was being branded. As the shockwave of electricity slowly pulses out of my system, I struggle to my feet, knowing if anyone touched the fence for too long they would be fried alive. I can’t climb it. I can’t get to him, and it feels like such a long time ago we were sitting on the top of the airstrip in the moonlight.
“You’re crazy, Freya!” Whil shouts. I know his anger is only caused by fear for my life. “Didn’t they tell you the fence was electric?”
I nod. “They did, I just…” I can’t finish the sentence. How pathetic would it sound to admit that I forgot the fence was electric because I saw Whil on the other side of it?
Pretty pathetic.
Whil’s face softens. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Your head looks better.”
“Some doctors fixed it this morning. Are you really okay? Did you get branded as well? Did they fix your back and your face after Warden whipped you? Did Warden give you all a talk this morning? About… about what we are supposed to do here now that you and I have arrived?”
Suddenly the realisation of where I am hits me hard and fast. I want to grab the fence again and again until the electric current stops my heart from beating anymore. I would rather be dead than locked up in this place. It doesn’t matter if we are fed, cleaned, and treated well when they expect us to…
“Whil,” I whisper, my voice hoarse and shaky with sudden panic. “We can’t stay here.”
I have a flooding memory of Jack and I standing in the town centre at home as the rally was progressing. When I gripped my brother’s arm and expected him to work out a way to save my life after answering the test wrong. When I expected him to have a plan to save Clara. I can’t keep relying on other people.
“We won’t. We’ll get out,” Whil says softly. He glances over his shoulder quickly, making sure that no one is watching or listening to us.
“How? How do we get out of here? There are guards everywhere. This fence isn’t like the other one and we have no idea what’s outside. We could be in a desert for all we know and we will just die of starvation or dehydration even if we escape,” I whisper.
“I know. We’ll work it out, just calm down.”
“I don’t want to be here,” I say, my voice cracking. I’ve forced myself to be strong until now, but looking at him through the chainmesh fence breaks me. “There are people in here who are dangerous.”
“Have they done anything to you?” Whil asks, his voice suddenly like ice. I look up into his eyes and they are cold and unforgiving. Never have I seen him look so fearsome.
“T-the branding man, but I’m not worried about him now. There’s a guy called Felix in here who people have warned me about.”
“If any of them touch you, I’ll kill them. Consider the branding man dead,” Whil spits.
“No, no. That’s what they want us to do. We can’t be aggressive, how they want us to be.”
“I won’t let them touch you. I’ll figure a way out. Maybe Seiger…” his voice trails off.
“Seiger!” I gape. “He isn’t going to help us! Maybe he’s not as sick as the nutters in here but his moral compass isn’t exactly straight either!”
“He’s the only chance we have, Frey. Just make friends and stick with them. They’ll protect you until I can get us out.”
“Whil, you’re not going to do it, are you?”
He looks mortified. “No. I wouldn’t ever do that. Not even if a girl wanted me to do it. I’ve got you right here, and we are going to be together.”
I swallow back the lump rising in my throat and my heart gives a painful throb. He stares at me, eyes boring into mine, and I feel fortified as I look at him, a small amount of courage seeps back into my body, and I nod firmly.
Suddenly, he thrusts his pinky finger through the chain link on the fence, being careful not to touch the metal. I smile, forcing back the tears and lock my finger with his. I wish we were still in that wooden caravan, locked away from the outside world and safe. I wish we were still in the arena in the Alps where we had the room to run and the trees and shrubbery to shelter us. Who would have thought those two horrible situations could be one-upped?
One of the guards from Whil’s courtyard begins heading towards us, his gun held across his chest. Whil makes eye contact with him and nods in silent understanding.
“Time to go, Freya,” he says. “Just be careful, okay?”
“Okay,” I say shakily. “You too.”
He nods, moves away from the fence, and drops my finger. My hand falls limp by my side and I move away, only to find Madison, Jacob and Isobelle standing a few metres behind me, all of them wearing amused expressions. Madison raises her eyebrows at me and there is a ghost of a smirk on her face.
“What?” I ask, placing my hands on my hips.
“A shame he isn’t in Facility One, isn’t it, Freya?” she says, knowingly.
I purse my lips. Even if Whil were in here, it wouldn’t be happening. I find it repulsive that the people here can turn something that is sincere and honest into something that seems vile and wrong. Irritated, I push passed them and go to sit under one of the shady trees. I settle into the grass, fold my arms and close my eyes. I can just rest here in the sun for the remainder of my life. I grow drowsy in the warmth and then hear a few thuds in the grass around me. I open one eye and see my three persistent followers are sitting around me, bright-eyed.
“Come on, Freya,” Madison says. “We know what it’s like. Jacob and I don’t exactly want to… share but for our own survival we are going to have to.”
“How can you just accept it so easily?” I snap. “It’s so wrong.”
“What choice do we have?” Jacob says and I look at him. He has hardly said a word since we were introduced. He takes Madison’s hand and rests their entwined hands in his lap. “If we want to escape, we have to survive first.”
“Would you be saying the same thing if you were over in Facility Two and Madison was in Facility One being seduced by another man?”
Neither of them look at each other, and I see Jacob’s hand tighten on Madison’s. His jaw clenches, but he says nothing.
Madison answers, her voice tight now, “We have to survive, anyway we can, so we can be together.”
“Well, I am not going to do it!” I say angrily, standing up and leering over them. “I am not their pawn!”
I storm away from them, go inside, and coop myself up in room three. Here, I spend the rest of the day simply lying on my bed, exhausted. It is excruciating to lie on my back but I do it anyway, determined to stare at the square window above me where I can see the blue sky and the few green leaves hanging. It’s the only glimpse I have of a world that isn’t enclosed by a fence. I close my eyes and think of how I can escape before Warden’s patience with my unwillingness to perform wears out. The only viable way is through the door I was brought in. But from what I’ve seen, guards stand by there at every moment. Then there are those white, identical hallways on the other side. How would I ever find an exit in that maze?
When the loudspeaker announces dinner is ready, my stomach grumbles hungrily. I try to ignore my stomach’s complaints but smelling the meal outside eventually entices me out of the bedroom. The seat between Isobelle and Madison is free. This time when I cross the room, no one bothers to look at me.
“Over your issues?” Madison asks as I sit beside her.
I grumble in response, helping myself to the chicken curry and rice on the counter. It is dark outside the window, but unlike that first night in the Alps, the dimness makes me feel secure and hidden. The people around the table chatter noisily, laughing at jokes told by a redheaded man and t
elling their own stories. They are comfortable with one another, and it almost feels like I’m sitting around a table with my family at teatime. I wonder if my actual family are sitting together around a table somewhere. Without me.
“It’ll be alright,” Isobelle says, watching my face fall with sadness. She touches my hand gently and smiles. “T’will.”
I force a smile back. If this child can be strong so can I. But after eating, my body feels tired and my mind clouds with confusion. Confusion about everything. The reason I was brought here, how things changed so rapidly, how I will escape? My mind lurches on an emotional roller coaster and all I want is to sleep, for months, for years. I go to bed feeling more stressed and anxious than ever.
The bed is soft and comfortable, but it doesn’t satiate my fears and worries. I toss and turn but sleep doesn’t come. At some point in the evening, Isobelle comes back in, and I hear her lock the bedroom door. I almost expect her to crawl in the bed with me for protection, but she doesn’t. It’s obvious that she is not the sort of child who gives in to her fears. She is strong and independent. Just like everyone else here. Except me. I don’t feel strong. I feel insignificant, broken, and weak.
When sleep does come upon me, my nightmares are terrible. Children with wicked hooked teeth run rabid in a town like vampires. Fire surges inside houses and when people run to escape, the children pounce on them and sink their fangs into their throats, frothing at the lips like rabid dogs.
I wake up, screaming and my clothes sticky with sweat. Isobelle sits straight up in her bed, gasping in fright and then looks at me with a terrified expression. There is agonising pain splintering through my back and face because I have been twisting in the doona covers so much. I’m certain that any healing that has taken place during the day has just been undone. I murmur to Isobelle that I was just having a nightmare and then lie back down, trying to reassure myself that the nightmare won’t become my reality.
18.
I adjust to life in Facility One, and hate myself for it. The facility isn’t interesting, adventurous, or even stimulating, but it’s tolerable. I read more books than I’ve ever read in my entire life over the next week. Most of the books on the shelf have been picked to taint our minds. There are lots of titles about natural selection and plenty of books about animals, forests, and ocean life picked by the Biocentrics in order to teach us more about the natural world. I can’t find any fantasy or romance novels.
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