Page 7 of Lost and Bound

Williem talks at the same time. “Did you read the screen?”

“Yes, but it makes no sense. I had a test last week and have the paper confirming I’m a hundred percent human.” It sounds like I’m grasping at straws, maybe because I am.

Williem shakes his head. “Well, today you are not one hundred percent human. We need to go.”

“The test could be wrong.” My response is soft as my confidence drains away.

“No. It’s never wrong. It can’t fail. It’s too simple to fail. It goes down to enzymes in the blood. If you’re an ‘other,’ you have a different composition than human DNA. You are no longer a ‘pure’ human, Maya.” Mr. Kenney explains while Williem uses his flashlight and pulls a bag out of a cupboard.

Behind us, the door opens, revealing one of the guys from the kitchen. My head is a blur; I can’t even remember his name, but right this second, it is the last thing to worry about.

I’m an other?

CHAPTER THREE

IMPOSSIBLE OR IMPROBABLE

It’s literal chaos in the community center as everyone falls into their practiced roles and rallies to help. Yet I stay exactly where I am as people rush around me, because in this drill I’m the one needing help, which is a role I never, ever considered I’d be filling.

We’ve practiced this a few times, as bad things happen to good people, and despite what the government says, the separation between the others and the pure isn’t so black and white. Particularly on the streets and in our communities, where we’ve helped hundreds of vulnerable people.

The lights stay off, and over the pounding of my pulse racing in panic, I hear snippets of conversation confirming that they’re running with the water pipe protocol. The senior community staffers have situations already set up as a cover should any of the people that use our service emerge as an other. I still can’t get around the fact of being one, but apparently they can.

As my work colleagues—my friends—rush to do what needs doing, they’re kind and supportive, stopping to share a reassuring word or two or simply wrapping me in a hug, but they’re slightly militaristic in their approach.

I am the situation.

I can’t get over the fact that I’m one of those people in need.

And they’ve pulled out one of the big protocols, which confirms I’m not dreaming, but also that the situation we’re in is dire. We’ve helped people, getting them aid before, and I’ve been involved in parts of those operations, but as far as I know, this is the first time an other has been outed at the community center. It’s why they’ve pulled out the big guns. When the government officials conduct their investigation as to why the centers computers went offline—which they will—using the old water pipes bursting and the inundation that followed blowing the computers, will be a realistic smokescreen to hide what happened.

“It’s lucky we weren’t linked to the mainframe,” Williem says for easily the tenth time since both he and Mr. Kenney leaped into action.

Rio, one of our computer geniuses, who hides in plain sight as a cleaner, appears deep in thought as he looks at Williem again. “I’m positive the cyber loop will work. I’m mimicking your drive and have the data from today, which we’ll also add to the firewall Maxine and I have built. God, their control and fearmongering drives me fucking crazy. Damn, it’s motivating too. We’re really close to having everything in place. Good job today too. You guys took less than four seconds to activate the procedure. In our profiling, we allowed for eight, so we’ll have extra play in the actual mainframe.”

“If we can give the government a longer one-finger salute, you know we’re in,” someone says as they pass the door. “That change to the law, making notification of others being found instant, is appalling.”

“Yeah, well, we all share that opinion, don’t we? All right, in light of this morning, I’m positive we throw in a few dummy plays on the government’s own system. Maxine and I will duplicate the feed, alter it, and then it can form the basis of our protocol for a real-time event once we’re locked in and back online.”

“It’s not like the government has the money to deal with power surges or water mains bursting, not when they’re investing in violence instead. The aging facilities that the city should be maintaining gives us a good place to hide,” Maxine adds as she races past. She skids to a stop when she sees me. “Kid, you’re going to be fine. You know what to do when you get out of the gate; run and don’t stop until you’re at Nellor’s Crossing.”

Nellor’s Crossing is a dot on a map made by a man nearly twenty years ago who was searching for possible safe havens. He evaded enforcers, successfully hid out in the wildlands, then snuck back into the city a few months later. Supposedly, where he marked on the map is full of places to hide, has fresh, clean running water, and an abundance of food sources. Considering we haven’t had any complaints yet, it’s safe to say what he said is true. Or the others have eaten them, and that’s why we’ve never heard or seen any people that cross to the other side.

And now I’m going to be one of them.

A backpack gets dropped at my feet, and I know someone explains what’s packed inside, but if I had to repeat what it was, I couldn’t. My own bag, along with any of my things that have been lying around the community center are spread out on the floor too.

“Go through and take only what you need, Maya. I know it’s going to be hard, but you need to travel light,” Mr. Kenney tells me gently while shining a flashlight down on the floor where everything is spread.

“Shit, all my belongings.”

“We’ll get someone to pose as you for the movers. Once they deliver, we will relocate all your things to a safe lockup.”

“I’m not coming back, am I?”

“Probably not.”

I sink forward on my knees; a heavy cloud settling around my thoughts. Everything I had of my happy childhood with my parents is pretty much gone in one trip down the stairs. I close my eyes and see my parents so clearly; I hear them in my thoughts too, and I know what they’d say.