71

Chapter 2

My branders are silent as the grave. I feel tempted to pinch them and see if they react. They don't tell me my blood number until I'm branded, that way I don't struggle if it's a bad one.
I watch their expressions closely for any show of emotion that might give my fate away, but there's none. They're either very good at their jobs, or they've been brainwashed. I tend to think the latter.
"Turn your head." A woman says. Her blonde hair is pulled back so tightly she looks bald. I don't object, but turn my head to the right, exposing my neck. She pins my knotted dark brown hair out of the way. My heart rate speeds up. Years of hardcore survival and the paranoia that has kept me alive all this time in the Wold tell me to conceal my neck. I expect to feel the cold touch of a knife slicing through my neck.
There's a slight prick in my neck, and a small area of the flesh goes numb. Pain reliever, I guess.
I feel a hot burning sensation on the base of my neck, reduced by the pain reliever, about a square inch area. I resist the urge to press my hand to the spot and cry out. I bite my lower lip and dig my fingers into plastic cover of my chair.
To keep myself busy, I looked around this room. It, too, is rather plain. The branders keep all their gadgets over in one corner. An automatic heater for the brands, and a tin bucket with a faucet in the wall over it. There is a locked glass case that contains the 100 different brands. I try to find the one that's missing, but they're grouped so closely together, it's impossible.
The branding iron is removed, but the slight burning sensation remains. There's a sizzling as the iron is dumped into the water bucket. Someone presses a cold, wet cloth to my hot flesh, and it instantly feels better.
"It's done." A bald male brander says, turning away. I lift my hand to feel the skin, but it just feels like all my other skin. Baldy turns, reaches into the tin water bucket, bringing out the iron. My heart drops, as he shakes it casually off and hangs it on the rack with all the others.
I look quickly away, pretending I hadn't seen it. What else was I to do? All the same, my hands had started shaking, my dark brown furry cat tail, same color as my hair, beating against the wall behind me. I try to calm myself. That didn't necessarily have to be the brand they used on me. It could have been left in the bucket, still cooling from the last costumer. Poor soul.
Trying to convince myself that I'm safe until they tell me my number, I tell myself that the very fact I was thinking these thoughts suggested that my number was 80 or higher. To have human thoughts, you must have human DNA.
My Examiner returns. "Ash, your blood number is 71. Please come this way." I immediately notice the difference between this statement and his last one- Follow me, and come this way. That meant that where I was going, he wasn't. And I knew just where that was.
"No." I say slowly. I don't know what I'm doing, but I know I don't want to die.
"Excuse me?" The Examiner turns back to me, an eyebrow raised, as if in confusion. Guess Impurities don't object often.
"No," I say again. "You're going to kill me." I say surely.
The Examiner glances at the branders for help, but they've turned away, setting things up for the next person.
"What makes you think we're going to kill you?" He says nervously.
"Are you?" I stare him in the eyes, and he looks away. That's what I thought.
"Ash, Impurities must be disposed of, for the greater good-"
"For the greater good, you wouldn't base the Exams on people's blood percentile, but on their mindset! I may be an Impurity, but do I think like one?" I say, my voice growing louder.
"She doesn't talk like one." Baldy says, startling me. So they can think for themselves.
"Yes, but- Hey!" The Examiner turns to the brander, and I slip behind him, out the door, and have already started sprinting down the hall outside before he notices.