Chapter 1

D

 

on’t stop running!” a voice reminds me. I don’t recognize the strange voice, and I don’t see who it belongs to, but I follow its directions. My bare feet pound on the damp concrete ground, trying to ignore the pain. I don’t stop until I see a body lying before my feet. Shaking, scared, and unaware of the rain pouring down on my head, I kneel down next the body forgetting the voice’s commands. His eyes are wide open, but they’re lifeless. The side of his face is covered in the red stain of blood. His hand still holds the knife he used before they killed him. A hand settles its way onto my shoulder. “He’s dead, Anne,” the same voice said friendlier than before. I can feel tears edging on the corner of my eyes, but that doesn’t stop the hand to pick me up and get me running again.

            “We need to get back to Metrial!” The voice yells back. Just then, ropes tangle around my ankles making me fall to my knees. A revolting laugh fills the air, creeping up in front of me. I struggle rip off the ropes wrapped on my ankles, but once I do, the laugh is right above me. Yellow eyes look down on my shaking body- yellow snake eyes. A white smile is reviled, even scarier than the pair of eyes glooming down on me.

            “I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” the face whispers.

           

            “NO!” I yelled, grabbing the air. My heart pounded in my chest, my face covered in sweat. Just a dream, I remind myself, Just a dream.

             There was a knock at my door. I got up from my bed and open the door. My mother stood in front of me with a worried look in her eye. “Are you okay, Annabe?” she asks, “I heard you scream.”

            “Y-yes, I’m okay, Mother. It was-was just a nightmare.” I said with an unsteady voice.

            My mother looked me in the eyes, uncertain if I was telling the truth or not but says nothing in return. Just a simple nod and she walked away. I went back into my room, but before I could sit down on my bed again there was another knock at my door. I sighed and walked back to my door, opened it, and, to my surprise found a soldier at my door.

            “Yes sir?” I asked the soldier.

            He raised his hand to his forehead- a salute I had seen one too many times and says, “Miss Anne Williams, of orders from Commander Slackley, you must be in Command in half an hour. If these orders are unclear, notify a nearby officer. If they are clear, follow orders and there will be no trouble. Good day, Miss Williams,” and, with that the soldier left me with the orders.

            Odd orders, especially coming from Command. The only time I was actually called to Command is if I get in trouble, but with cameras watching my every move, trouble around Metrial had gone down one hundred percent. Metrial was my home- or base, as some people (meaning me) like to call it- and when you got orders from Command to go to Command, that’s never a good sign.

            I immediately got dressed and walked down to Command. Coincidentally, Command wasn’t too far from my room- thanks to the Commanders- probably just a floor or two below. When I walked in it seemed like everyone in the room had their eyes on me. Nobody dare move when I walked in but Commander Slackley- a tall, thin woman with light brown hair and hazel eyes. She always had a serious gaze in her eye, and that day her serious face was mixed with exhaustion and a firm expression. This couldn’t be good.

            “Good, you’re here,” Slackley muttered, “We have much to talk about,”

            “What are you talking about, Commander?” I asked being as controlled as possible as I can be near Slackley. “Am I in trouble again?”

            “Oh no, not this time,” her sarcasm told me she wishes I were. “But, there are things to talk about. It’s about Segreth Bates.”

            This gets my attention. Segreth Bates was my best friend. That, however, was before his parents were killed. After that, he decided he couldn’t stand being in Metrial, so he hasn’t come back home in a while. I knew that for him to come back home he had to have done something really wrong or we did something very wrong.

            “He’s coming back to Metrial,” Commander said, “For a while, believe it or not.” Of course she said that with sarcasm.

            “Why?”

            “I’ve been told it was because-” One soldier at the table got up from the table and whispered something in Slackley’s ear. “Oh,” she muttered quickly. She looks at me with confusion on her face. “Segreth wants you to meet him outside after sunset. He wants to explain things for himself; see you first so you can understand him better without having two, three different conversations in your ear.”

            “But why does Segreth want me to meet him outside after sunset?”

            “He wants to explain.”

            “Explain what, though? Why couldn’t have he come into Metrial to explain…whatever he wants to explain?”

            “Well, when you see him tonight, you can ask him,” Slackley said, anxious to get rid of me, “Right now, though, I don’t need you asking me all kinds of questions I can’t answer. Now, that’s all I needed from you this morning. Get back to your regular routine, Annabe.” And by “regular routine” she meant “Don’t get into any trouble,”

            I walked out of Command without another word, not even looking back at Slackley, whose eyes were piercing into my back. I tried not to look back as I walked up the hall, knowing that it’s not a good idea. But, even though I do look back, there were no cameras watching me. It seemed like they’re off, too, with the lens pointing to the ground. All of a sudden, I think something was wrong with the security system in Metrial, but then I remember Slackley’s confused expression. Segreth must not have just asked for me to come and see him after dark.

            As I walked up the stairs leading to my room, I remembered the dream I had not even an hour before; just thinking about made me shudder. I remember the dead body with the lifeless eyes. Those eyes- that face- seemed so real, so graphic in such a simple dream. The blood on his face wasn’t anything compared to the lifeless eyes, though. Colorless eyes gazing into nothing. Creepy really, but I couldn’t get the image out of my head. Yet, that’s not the craziest part. The evil laugh filling the air that took the oxygen from the room; I’d never felt like I was being choked- well, not in a dream at least. I know it wasn’t real, but something in the back of my mind was nagging at my conscious saying, “Remember the feeling, Annabe. Remember the feeling.” Honestly, how can I forget? Being choked means all you can get out is a staggered scream or yelp; hands blocking the air that fills into your lungs, struggling to break free of the grip. How can anybody forget that feeling? How can I?

            Once I reached my room, I felt out of breath. My heart wasn’t pounding in my chest like before, but it might was well have. I tried to control my breathing, and finally unlocked my door. I passed by my clock. 8:47 am, it read. I had less than eight hours until sunset, which meant less than eight hours of time to kill. A girl like me could find something time consuming in Metrial…I hope.

            No, I think, by the looks of Slackley, I have a long time ahead of me. I better get some rest. I sigh, thinking of only one thing: my nightmare.

            I tried to think of something sweeter than the horrid night I witnessed, like seeing Segreth. Actually, thinking about was not the best thing in the world to do then. I hadn’t had the best memories of Segreth, and thinking about seeing his face when he realized his parents were gone was one of the worst things I had ever seen in my life. Thinking about it I realized how much my nightmare was much like the last time we saw each other. The hand belonged to Segreth, and the body…the body belonged to his father- years after his mother was killed. The two voices, though, were voices I had never heard before.  Like I said, thinking about it wasn’t the best thing to do at the time.

            I looked over to see the picture of my mother, my father, my older sister, Harella and myself on my nightstand. It was an old picture from when I was a toddler- maybe three, four years old. We all smiled into the camera, my giant, candy covered face taking up half of the photograph. I wish I could tell you my family was normal, but if I did that would be me lying to you. It’s kind of funny thinking about how happy we all were when I was little- no care in the world, nothing bad to think about. It’s also hard to believe that it ended so suddenly.

            I remembered the day when a strange man walked up to the door at my house. He was in uniform, something I’d seen men wear outside of important buildings but I never thought I’d see one at my doorstep. I remember my mother telling my sister about them, that they call themselves The Uniformed because of the special uniforms they wear, and only them. At first, it sounded cool, until she told us how they become The Uniformed.

 I was playing outside with Harella when we saw the man. Harella picked me up from the ground and grabbed my little hand, pulling me to the side of the house. The uniformed man knocked at the door, and my father opened it. He had a surprised look on his face, which I never got to see that often. I sure was glad, too, because it was not the expression my father would have on his face on a good day. Confusion didn’t look good on his handsome, beige face.

            “Good morning,” my father said calmly. “What brings you here today?”

            The uniformed man had a serious expression, like most men in uniform did- does, I should say. “There has been a security breach in the city and all of Zilponla. Authorities have sent out The Uniformed to tell each family and, or citizen to pack their things and leave their homes before any extensive damage can be done to the city or Zilponla. We are expecting an attack by sunset this evening, so I warn you to hurry. Every family will meet at the school to load the busses that will take them to camps. Good day.”

The Uniformed never stuttered, never flattered, and he walked away with the disturbing news hanging in the air. My mother walked up behind my shocked father, wondering what had happened then. He explained everything The Uniformed had told him, and my mother clasped her hand over her mouth in disbelief. She called for Harella and I to come back inside to pack, knowing that we had to have heard everything. Harella still held my hand as we walked inside, and the warmth of her skin around mine made me feel calmer than the rest of my family. They hurried around the house grabbing the most important things they needed to keep their sanity as I watched. I watched them scurry around the house grabbing this picture and that book, this frying pan and that teddy bear. Being only four, I didn’t really know what fear was. Fear to me was like being afraid of the dark, or thinking a monster was in my closet- typical toddler terrors. That did change very quickly.

The clock rang the chime of bells that signaled the top of the hour: 5 o’clock. Sunset was only half an hour away, and that wasn’t much time for a panicking family. We all ran out of the house, me on my father’s shoulders, and ran all the way to the school I would have gone to. The Uniformed were packing family into busses already full, panicking themselves. We were one of the last families to make it to the school; busses had already left with barely an inch of room for one person. We made it to the school in enough time to see the helicopters hovering in the air- moving slowly yet deadly towards our little section in Zilponla. Dozens of helicopters towered above our heads, casting shadows down on us. Something told me I wouldn’t be making it to those camps.

The bus left the school with us when the first bomb touched the ground, leaving an enormous crater behind us. Another one fell twenty yards away from the bus, rocking it to its side to side. Less than five seconds later the bus was actually on its side.

Windows were cracked; people everywhere. Nothing to me seemed real. I looked over at Harella whose hand still held mine. The glass from the window had cut her cheek, leaving a gaping cut on the side of her face. Other than that, she looked fine-until she moved her hand from her neck.

Glass- thick, clear glass covered in my sister’s blood- had ended up in her neck. Blood poured from her wounded neck, and the smell filled my nose and made its way into my lungs. The chocking feeling began there. I tried to call my sister’s name out- tried to touch her skin for the warmth that made me so calm. I touched the cheek that wasn’t cut. It was ice cold.

Liquid hot tears streamed down my face. I knew she was gone; I knew I wasn’t going to feel her warmth around my body ever again. She would never come back to me- ever- and I would always hold that against whoever had the nerve to attack my family. Thing was, I’ll probably never know who attacked.

My mother was knocked out unconscious, but she was still breathing- a few minor bruises on her arms and legs, but nothing serious. My father, on the other hand, never made it on the bus. He was killed by the bombs with The Uniforms by his side. I would never know why he stayed behind, knowing that he’d be killed, and my mother never told me. She said that when I’m ready I would learn my father’s story. You’d think right then and there would be the best time to tell me, but it’s been eleven years.

I remembered this horrible day like an amazing event, even though it was the total opposite. The only thing I don’t remember is how it came to be that I ended up in the hills of Metrial. It’s all a blur, just some of The Uniformed coming to my rescue, them being killed by god knows what, and then waking up in a hospital room bed next to my mother’s. The next few weeks after that was just me getting pierced in the arm by a needle that made me calm down. Let’s just say, it wore off pretty fast due to the adrenaline still pumping through my body.

Most of the things my father and Harella possessed were burnt and destroyed, but some were just as perfect as they were before that day. I walked over to the cabinet across the room, opened it, and took out a small chest full of their things. The chest was full to the top; my mother thought we would never get it to close! It did, one day, and I was happy. Not happy that everything could fit in the tiny chest Metrial gave us, but happy that we still had things to remember them by. The picture on my nightstand with my once happy family was in there at one point, but I thought not having something out with them in it was just wrong. Looking through the chest I saw everything they loved to carry around.

My father took a cheese knife that had a very sharp point to it. Looking at it took me back to my real home, when my parents had company over. The teddy bear my sister had won at a fair was stuffed into the chest, too. Its button eyes were just barely hanging on, and I think it had a smile, although the thread must have been burnt off or it just faded away. I hugged the bear and remembered the day she won it. She wanted to give it to me, but I wanted it to be hers’ since she was the one who won it in the first place. Still, she insisted on having me have it. My mother made up our minds, though, saying that it would be both of ours so we’d both get what we wanted…partially. It never left Harella’s room, though.

I set the bear on my bed next to my pillow. I didn’t know why I never did that before. It had been eleven years since their deaths!  Then again, my mother had asked me if I ever wanted to take the items out, but I said no like I always do.

I took a deep breath, trying to control the tears at the edge of my eyes. I shook my head, put the chest back into the cabinet and slammed the doors shut. I walked to my dresser and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was all over the place, even with a rubber band holding it up, and I had huge bags under my eyes. I wiped my eyes until they were stinging, and brought myself back to my bed. I slipped under my covers encasing myself in the silky warmth, and fell asleep instantly.

 

     *   *   *   *   *

I woke up by the sound of the knocking at my door. I was covered in sweat and felt sticky- a horrible feeling. I opened my door and found my mother out of breath. When she picked her head up and looked me in the eye her face turns from exhaustion to disgust.

“Annabe, dear, you look horrible!” She shouted in her thick Zilponlan, letting the rest of the hall about my revolting appearance.

“Thank you, Mother,” I said sarcastically. “What do you want?”

“Well, first I want you to take I shower! You’re covered from head to toe in sweaty filth!” My mother walked me into the room, holding her nose away from my “filth”, and sat me down. “But, that can wait…for now.”

“Mother,” I said, tired of her getting off the subject to emphasize my appearance. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Segreth is not coming,” she said looking into my eyes.

I made a gesture that showed my confusion. “W-what?” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Segreth isn’t coming?”

“Yes,” my mother replied looking not too happy herself, “but not ever. He sent something saying he was wrong about this being the right time to come back. Wherever he is, he says there’s more important things there than coming here.”

“More important?” I barked.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant, Annabe. More like-”

 I paid no attention to her. “What could possibly be more important than facing me- coming back to Metrial, facing his fear of this place? He has to admit that he’s afraid!”

I stormed off into the hallway, my eyebrows knitted across my forehead. I heard my mother calling out for me, but I ignored the cries. I pushed some guards out of my way as I walked up the stairs. Five flights of stairs, I pushed people out of my way not caring who they were or what they said after I left them staring. I didn’t care. Whatever it took, I was getting Segreth to come back to his home! Anyways, knowing Segreth, he was probably only two, three miles from Metrial. I knew he would c0me.

I slammed open a door that leaded outside, pushing it open so hard I almost thought the hinges would snap. They didn’t, but I still looked back to make sure. My head was pounding in frustration. I noticed storm clouds hovering over the empty hills in the distance, and when the wind blew I shivered. The temperature was dropping fast, and my bare arms and legs weren’t appreciating that I just picked up some shorts and a t-shirt this morning. The sun was just barely lurking behind the horizon, sharing its last bit of light until the next morning. Sunset, I thought squinting at the sun’s bright light.

The wind picked up, torturing my body. This was not my best idea. Not even a little. Why didn’t I at least have the tolerance to pick up a jacket?

I heard a rumble of thunder not too far off, and then another five seconds after the first. There was a storm coming, I could feel it- I could see it- coming. I was glad the storm was coming. It was occupying my mind from something else- or should I say someone else.

9

I looked back at the building I had run out of. It was probably ten feet above ground, while the rest of Metrial was underground. It’s scary thinking I lived underground and you’d think that after eleven years a girl would get used to it. I would never get used to it. When I was getting to know Metrial when I was little, I always asked if I could go outside and play in the sun, but the answer was always the same: no. My personality changed dramatically. You really wouldn’t think I was the same person. I was a cheery little four year old- always happy, always smiling- but after the horrible day when my sister and father were killed during the bombing, you would never see me without my head down or my face carrying a dull look. Trust me, you don’t want to see a depressed toddler. Murder or suicide, that’s the worst thing a toddler- or any person- can experience.

I sat down on the soft grass, wondering what I could do next. What could I do next? Running back into Metrial wasn’t an option for me at the moment, and running away wouldn’t be the right thing to do, especially since I’d be doing the same thing as Segreth and it’d be for no good reason. Plus, it would leave my mother all alone. I couldn’t do that to her, and I don’t think I would be able to survive without her by my side, or next door. The wheels in my head were turning so quickly, my head started to hurt. My muscles were tense, and my cheeks were red from the blistering wind hitting my face. My hands twitched as I was trying to think harder than I should have.

I decided to stop the effort. Honestly, it was not worth it. Anyways, I had already found my solution for what to do next: sit. I’d been doing that, and since my other two options were horrible, this is the next best thing. Yes, I’d just sit…and wait. But wait for what? The voice nags in the back of my head. What are you waiting for, Annabe? I don’t know what to wait for. I don’t know why I’m waiting. This is exactly why a person shouldn’t get frustrated. It takes more energy and more thought than you can give.

What are you waiting for, Annabe? What are you waiting for?