My mother’s shackled hand brushes my shoulder as she tries to pull me behind her. She wasn’t scared when they broke into our house and took her. She just smiled sadly, as if she knew it was coming. But she is afraid now, because I’m here, standing between her and a monster.
Her fingers tremble when they graze me.
“Return to your sister,” she whispers harshly. “Now!”
I ignore her command. I won’t stand by and watch her die.
“I see you failed to teach the child proper manners,” the High General says. He straightens to his full height, his shadow swallowing me whole.
“I’ll correct that.”
“No,” my mother pleads. “The girls will stay with their aunt.”
Aunt Freida isn’t our real aunt; she’s just Mom’s best friend. She lives in Little Reach, a borough in Division Four. On a big, sprawling ranch. She picks us up every summer on her late husband’s helicopter, and we spend two blissful months, swimming in Old Creek and feeding her goats and mules.
Aunt Freida let me hold her husband’s rifle last time. It hurt my shoulder, and my wrists quivered the entire time, but it felt amazing.Mom would have a heart attack if she knew.
“The girls are mine,” he says.
I speak to distract myself from the chill that settles into the marrow of my bones. The spring air whistles, stirring my dark hair.
“I won’t go with you,” I say. “You’ll have to shoot me too.”
He grabs my chin, forcing my head up. His grip is painfully tight, and I wince at the contact.
“You will speak to me with respect,” the High General says. “Or I will make an example of you.”
“I’m not scared to die,” I say.
My voice trembles, but I straighten my spine anyway. I will not cower in the face of violence. I will not run from the beasts of my nightmares.
This isn’t the first time someone has tried to terrorize us. There was our landlord, Jullian Gough, the governor’s son, who owns most of the apartment complexes in Oracle. He had his enforcers visit us a few weeks ago. They threatened to cut off my arm if my mother didn’t paywithinterest. I didn’t cry then, even though I really wanted to. I just stayed as quiet as a mouse when he held the blade threateningly over my flesh. Mom threw up a lot when they left, and Mercy did too.
Our payments were never late after that.
The High General nods once, and the enforcers seize me. Mercy’s scream cuts through the air, echoing around the watchtowers. I thrash against their grip, sobbing as they tear me away from my mother.
“Please,” I beg. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Don’t hurt my mother.”
“The Code exists to guide us,” he replies. “To ensure rules are maintained, and treason is punished.”
“She’s all I have,” I whisper.
He approaches me again. My mother sobs, begging him to stop. My heart pounds so loudly, it’s a wonder he doesn’t wince at the violent, desperate sound. I know with striking clarity that he won’t spare her. There is no soul behind his eyes. Only cruelty.
“Your mother lied to you,” he says, lips curled in disgust. “She hid you from me. You could have lived in Division One. You could have been raised among the upper class. Instead, she buried you in filth and dressed you like peasants.”
His gaze flickers to my clothes. Dull, dirt-brown trousers that stop above my ankles, and a matching shirt with missingbuttons, identical to everyone else’s. In Division Eight, dye is a luxury that no one can afford.
“You and your sister will live with me now,” he continues.
“And if we refuse?” I ask.
“I am your father. You will obey me.”
Before I can speak, he releases me and turns back to my mother. My mouth drops in surprise. We never knew who our father was. Mother always said it was unimportant. That he wasn’t worthy of us. I would often wonder what job he worked, if he was a factory worker, or a farmer, or a merchant.
In my wildest dreams, I would pretend that he was a writer or a poet or a singer. Even though people didn’t practice the arts anymore, and if they did, it was monitored and subject to approval. Most of our books were heavily edited by representatives of the Director’s Office and stripped to their bare bones, like a captured fox skinned for its fur, leaving behind nothing but a pale hide.
