Running With the Wave

Chapter 4

Era:

The tests don't hurt, really. Most of them are just blood tests, an MRI, an X-Ray, among other things. What bothers me is that I have no idea what they're for. I mean, I'm not stupid, I know it has something to do with the Scar not working, but how would these tests help? I'm led back to cell fifteen around two hours after the Ringer, and am glad to find that someone had the sense to wake Keara up. When I walk through our cell door, I spot her sitting on my ledge, fingering the stone wave I gave her yesterday. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the stone wall, letting me see the tears cascading down her cheeks. She must think I'm Disposed. Her food tray sits across from her, not touched. Mine is on the floor below her. I cross over to the ledge, but she doesn't seem to notice at all. I lift a spoon full of the watery oatmeal that is for breakfast today, and push it against her lips. She turns away, refusing to open her mouth.

"You need to eat, Keara."

Her eyes open, and she turns towards me.

"Era? But you're Disposed."

"No, they just wanted to run some tests on me for some reason."

She stares at me, then turns away.

"I'm dreaming. Amiya told me that they took her sister away like they took Era away when she was Disposed."

I sigh.

"You're not dreaming, I promise you," I say, turning her beautiful head back towards me, "See? You can feel that I'm real, can't you?"

"Yeah," She whispers, her eyes locking with mine.

She throws her arms around me and buries her head in my shoulder.

"Oh, Era! I thought, I thought..." She sobs.

"Shh, Sweetheart. I'm here," I answer softly, running my hand along her hair, "Shh, I know, I know."

I let go of her once she's calmed down a bit, my blood ice cold. I'm scared for her, that she'll just abandon the thought of life when I die.

"Keara, you can't leave like that when I do get Disposed!" I scold her, "We already talked about this! You have to be able to take care of yourself."

"Please," Keara whispers, "Please don't say you're going to be Disposed."

"What's the point? We both know it's true."

She reaches forwards and hugs me again as it sinks in. I'm going to be Disposed sooner or later, the Scar hasn't worked for me when I've done it so many times. It's amazing they've kept me alive so long.

"You have to eat," I pry her off me, and hand her the spoon.

She scrunches up her nose at it, God knows it doesn't look or taste appetizing, but she eats the whole bowl anyways. That's what happens when you're always on the verge of starvation: you no longer care what you're eating. You just need to eat. I myself pick up my own bowl of watery oatmeal and lick it clean. I get a smaller portion than the pregnant women, I'm only one person to feed, and I find myself gazing jealously at Keara's bowl.

"Want some?" She offers, catching me staring.

"No, no," I smile at her, "You need it more than I do."

She shoves the bowl at me.

"No, really. I'm not hungry."

I push it back.

"I'm fine, Keara. Keep it for yourself."

We both know she was still hungry, and she doesn't argue anymore. I finger the cloth on my day outfit, wrapping a loose thread around my pinky finger. Sighing, I let the thread trail off my finger in the little circles that it was shaped into. I push my long ebony hair behind a dark-skinned ear. The other women have told me I'm beautiful, but I've never really believed them. Besides, what does being beautiful matter in a world where you have to worry about surviving to the next day? Nada. Nothing at all. So why even think about it? Why is it that what people tell me when they look into my deep blue eyes? Because the alternative is so much worse. But sometimes you have to face your fears. I gaze around the room at the familiar, gaunt faces. All of them are like family to me, and all of them are so naïve. All ignoring the truth, pretending that everything is alright. That being used for breeding is all right, making themselves believe it. Because they don't want to face an unavoidable truth. Keara is like them, she'll fit right in. Me, well, I don't fit in really, and neither did my mother. Mamma was strong and bold. She wanted to create a group of rebels, to fight back, but no one would. She was a smart woman, knew she couldn't fight the Keepers by herself. So she waited for everyone to realize that she was right.

She didn't stick around long enough to see.

I'd inherited some of that. When I was younger, after Mamma died, I'd rallied up a bunch of the other girls, and we attacked the Keepers, rebelled. We'd been stopped, and I'd payed the price. Dr. Halisdio himself had whipped me, left the skin on my back in tatters. Everyone knows it's a miracle I survived with only scars and memories. Since then, though, I learned to keep my mouth shut. To seethe silently and do as they told me. Keepers train all their lives in fighting and the use of a gun. Starving women stand no chance against them. I don't want to die, however horrible this life is. So I don't try to escape and do as I am told. But I don't tell myself lies, and in my head I've already killed them all nine times. I don't understand how a woman could love such a stone hearted creature like a man. It's unthinkable. And I know, with all my heart, that I never will.

Hunter:

I rest the back of the rifle on my shoulder and look through the gazer, lining my target up with the middle of the crossed lines. I squeeze the trigger, and the gun bucks in my hand, but I'm ready for it. Looking up, I see the hole straight in the center of the practice target. A perfect shot. Fit for a Keeper. The thought raises bile to my throat, but I force it down. My entire family since the Fall have been faithful Keepers, and I'm not going to be the one to poison that line. Even if I know what we do to the women is wrong, even if I loathe the gun in my hands and all the others. Even if the very thought of murder and death makes me sick to my stomach.

"Good shot, man," my friend, Railt claps me on the shoulder, "You'll make your family proud."

I force a smile, knowing that he means well.

"How about a little break?" I put it out there.

"Sure, bro. But next you have to try the pistol. You're the only fifteen year old not yet carrying one."

"Deal."

To be honest, the last thing I want is to try a pistol and to carry one, but I can't avoid it forever. I sit down on the bench and take a swig from my water bottle. I can feel the sweat beading on my forehead, and I take the towel Railt offers me gratefully. I lay the towel over the bench to dry in the sun once I'm sweat free, and lie down across the bench. Training to be a Keeper isn't easy, and I'm all puckered out.

"Here," Railt hands me a PB and J sandwich.

"Thanks, Railt," I take a huge bite out of my sandwich, enjoying the burst of flavour.

We finish our sandwiches in silence, wiping the crumbs off our face with our fingers. The head Trainer spots us sitting there, and sends me a questioning glance.

"We're just taking a break," I call over to him.

He nods, telling me he heard me, and goes back to instructing the Newbies on how to hold a gun without shooting their hand off.

"Ever wonder about your future?"

"You'll keep those girls in line with your good shot," Railt grins at me, "You have no reason to worry about the future, Hunter."

"That's not what I mean."

He stares at me, brow furrowed in confusion.

"What do you mean, then?"

"Ever wonder if we're doing the wrong thing?"

"You mean with the women?"

"You know that's what I mean."

"Hunter, bro, are you serious? Just saying that could get you killed!"

Railt looks around nervously as if to prove his point.

"I'm dead serious, man. They're human too. Ever wonder if we're the bad guys, locking them up and breeding them like that? We don't know the half of it. I bet you they don't waste much food and medicine on them. Like they're lesser beings, when they're the reason we're alive. They give us life, and in turn we lock them up and torture them."

"What are you saying? The women carry the Plague! We're protecting the human race!" Railt practically quotes the video they'd all seen in classes.

"I guess..." I sigh.

No one is ever going to understand what goes through my head. No one will ever understand my reason. And I have to be a Keeper, and pretend not to realize all the horrible wrongs.

What a sick world we live in.