The GreenHouse

Chapter 3

18:52

RUBY

I am in the eye of the storm...

I stand silent, and still as pandemonium explodes around me. The hysteria of shrieking voices, the frenzy of feet pounding the earth, the flurry of blurred faces and figures rushing around me, and my father;  commanding and conducting the mayhem like a maestro with a baton. 

"Clean that off the glass. NOW!" He screams. "Check the perimeter!...Make sure no one comes near here!...Double up security at all the access points!" My father flicks the baton, and his orchestra responds swiftly, and accordingly.

"Turn on the fence!" He yells again, the voices and footsteps and rushing movements are building to a crescendo now.

A voice I've never heard before answers my father's urgent demand, "But we haven't turned the fence on in over a decade," the voice lowers itself to a whisper, as if it doesn't want to be heard. But I can hear every word, because I am in the eye... "We don't have enough power, sir."

"WELL, GET THE POWER FROM SOMEWHERE AND TURN IT ON!" The words shoot from his  mouth like fiery comets tearing up the atmosphere and for a second everything around him stops, as if it's been shocked into silence, and then it starts again.

"And get her out of here," he barks. I only realize who the her is when I feel the powerful hands clamp down on my arms.

"Dad, I..." But I'm not able to finish my sentence, because in one, swift movement, I'm no longer in the eye. I'm violently ripped out of it and thrown into the fray. My calm bubble bursts and I'm immersed in the chaos. Devoured by the sea of panic.

I feel my feet lift off the ground as the strong guards start dragging me away. I kick and wiggle and twist my body until I finally break free of their grasp. I fall to the ground, and once more, I'm face- to- face with the smiling sun.

Someone drew this. Someone put this here for us to see.

I stare at it; there's something about this simple drawing that calls to me. I feel inexplicably connected to it in a way that I don't understand.

It suddenly dawns on me that I only have seconds before this picture will be scrubbed away. Erased, as if it never existed. I gaze up; my father's not looking in my direction so I quickly, surreptitiously, take a photo of it. And just in time! Suddenly, I'm lifted off the ground and pulled away...

19:34

RUBY

The picture is blurry, but there's no mistaking what it is. And there's no mistaking it's significance either. This picture changes everything.  Every belief we've held onto for almost 100 years. 

There are other survivors...

I sit in my bedroom alone, cradling the photo protectively in my hands. My father is barking loud commands to the men in his office. He seems obsessed with two things at the moment; not letting anyone find out about the picture, and restoring power to the fence.

None of this makes sense!

My mind spins; a million thoughts rush through it at a dizzying speed and I'm desperately trying to process them all, but I can't. I'm utterly confused. My father has been searching for survivors for years, and now that we finally have proof of them, he wants to erase it and pretend it never happened? And who the hell was that woman with the red hair? I look down at the picture again...

"Don't tell anyone about this, Ruby!" It's the only thing my father has said to me since leaving the fence.

My hands tremble, and even though it's a perfect 78.8 degrees tonight, a cold, clammy sensation slithers over my skin.