Exiles: The Unity Program

Chapter 1

The thrum of the hovercraft jolted her from a dreamless sleep. The inky blackness of her mind peeled away, leaving behind fog and grogginess. For a moment, she couldn't remember why she was here. Then a snort from someone snoring nearby made her jump, and the reality hit her like a punch to the gut.

Her body felt heavy, still entrenched in sleep, and it took a monumental effort to lift her arm and press her hand against the iron cage surrounding her. Curling her fingers through the slots, she pulled herself to her feet, her legs throbbing from the long hours of confinement.

She rolled her neck and shoulders, trying to ease the tension from the cramped space. They had been told it would take three days and nights to reach their destination. No stops. They were lucky to have a bathroom area, but only if they asked nicely. Cameras watched their every move from the front of the craft. There was no chance to dawdle; the wristbands attached to them were designed to deliver a crippling shock for any infraction. Experience had taught her that lesson too well.

It sucked that she was the first to suffer for everyone else to realize they weren't kidding about stepping out of line.

She rubbed the spot under the metal cuff, cringing at the memory of shockwaves shooting through her body. Her skin felt raw, slightly damaged from the zap. It would heal, but it would take days. You only made that mistake once, that was for sure.

Shifting her gaze to the window on her left, she stepped up to the side of her cage. She could see only fractured images through the little diamond patterns of the bars. They were inches from the window, most likely designed to discourage any attempts to stick something through to break the glass. It was stuffy in the compartment, the stench of body odor overwhelming. She couldn't exactly smell herself, but she knew she was just as ripe as the rest of them, wearing the same clothes she had when they left the city. No deodorant, either. The toxic air outside would be a relief at this point.

The clouds outside were thick, dark, and way too low—smog. No moon or stars pierced the gloom. Not that they were clear to begin with; seeing blurred images of them once a month was barely enough. She had seen pictures in books of what the moon and stars used to look like. She craved to see them in person, but the smog that shrouded most nights and the gray overcast of the days made it clear that she would die without ever witnessing their beauty.

She watched as the smog streaked with light gray, the telltale sign of the sun rising behind the haze. Or what they called a day, anyway. Gloom and doom—that was all it was. Not the golden sun that once baked the earth's ground long ago. She had seen that in books and a few movies that slipped through her mother's office—movies her mother wasn't allowed to show her but did anyway. If The Order had ever found out, her mom would have faced the Exile Protocol much sooner, never committing her other crimes.

Clutching the iron bars tightly, she felt the metal dig into her palm, biting but not breaking skin. There were no frayed edges or any way to warp the fencing. It was solid iron, designed to hold firm even if they crashed. If anything were to happen and they rolled over, they would be bashed against the cages, bruised or even killed. But that wasn't the main purpose of the cages; that was just a bonus. They were meant to keep them from forming connections and to remind them this wasn't a field trip. This was their life now.

Peeling her fingers from the bars, she sank back into her seat, stretching her legs until her toes touched the cage's door. Leaning her head back against the headrest, she stared up at the single camera that monitored her. There was one above each cage, allowing the cameras to avoid moving in every direction day and night.

"Today's arrival day," a voice behind her said dully, with a hint of chirpiness.

Including herself, there were eight of them on the craft—one from each sector. They had been told it was a good combination, ensuring that their various strengths would allow them to thrive. Of course, they had to work together, but they were criminals, each in their own way. Survival wasn't likely to be their top priority.

The hovercraft trembled slightly, the ground vibrating beneath her feet. She leaned forward, staring down as if she could somehow see through the metal to the ground rushing below. But there was only solid steel obscuring her view, with no visible sign of why the trembling had begun.

A ding echoed above, and a red light glowed around them. She jerked her head back, searching the ceiling for the reason they had suddenly been plunged into crimson coloring. Little bulbs along the edges emitted the eerie glow. Sitting fully back, she gripped her armrests, fingers curling around the edges as her heart raced.

"Please sit back and buckle up. We're experiencing some technical difficulties with the landing." The robotic voice of the disembodied captain crackled over the intercom.

Then the blaring signal warned them. The seatbelt shot over her lap and clicked into place, the sound of metal buckles echoing in her ears. The hovercraft jerked forward, shuddering violently.

Everything will be alright, her mother's voice drifted through her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to the sound. I promise you. Everything's going to be alright. Her mother's last words before she had been led out through the gates of the city, a smile dancing on her lips. Always so optimistic. Always ready for the worst.

Taken from her. She had been forced to watch as they exiled her mother for trying to do what she believed was right. Her mother had been all she had.

Everything's going to be alright.

The hovercraft finally stilled, and she opened her eyes, her heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. As it slowed, she could hear the whirring of the machinery around them, like a motherboard trying to kick its fans into place. Then realization dawned on her.

"Everybody hang on tight!" one of the other girls shouted over the noise. "We're going to droooooop!" she screamed as they began to plummet.

Her heart fell with it. Like the virtual roller coasters suddenly slamming down before her eyes, she felt herself pressed against her seat, her head practically glued to it. Her nails dug into the leather coating of her seat, and her jaw ached. There was screaming around her, and a slight urging in the back of her brain told her that she, too, was screaming. But she couldn't feel it or hear it clearly. Perhaps it was better that way.

Then they slammed to a stop, and she was thrust forward. A shard of pain shot down her spine as her head whipped forward. A groan escaped her lips as she leaned back, squeezing her eyes shut. Silence enveloped them, and she almost convinced herself that the impact had killed everyone else, leaving her as the sole survivor. Until she heard a shaky gasp behind her, signaling that they were starting to move again.

Clicks resonated in her ears as seatbelts unclasped, and then the most shocking sound ignited through the cabin of the hovercraft: locks unlatching. The familiar clinking of the locks coming undone turned her eyes toward the door of her cage, just in time to see it open a fraction.

Reaching up, she once again gripped the fencing and pulled herself up. Her legs were shaking violently from the sudden plummet, but as she moved one foot in front of the other, they gradually grew stronger.

Cautiously, she approached the entrance of her cage and reached out, pressing her fingers against it. The slight touch made it open a bit more, the chains rattling as she did. Her eyes darted to the cameras, and she realized that the red light still enveloped them, but the cameras were frozen, staring at now-empty seats.