Barren

0.1

The life of a Barren is Nomadic. We are born in a BioSphere, never knowing our parents because they have to leave as soon as the next rotation comes. We grow up half-wild in the BioSphere, with each other until our bone-to-muscle-mass is strong enough for our first rotation. Than we leave, go to a BioSphere, rest for a while, leave, an endless cycle carrying packs and resting. The only thing we can really hope to accomplish is to make a few friends and live past puberty. Speaking of which, the boy in my arms is a little younger than Cree and I, who are in our fifteenth year, probably on his first rotation. Maybe I didn't do him a favor. He's still gonna have to rotate, whether it's in a week or a month or a year, he's gonna have to carry another pack and there's a very slim chance there will be someone to help him.

As we walk into the BioSphere, a blast of freezing air assaults my senses. I immediately begin to shiver, stumbling over to the closest lake and dunking my face in, completely forgetting the boy. The design of the BioSpheres are ingenious; As soon as you walk into the first chamber, there's the AC, and lakes dotting the floor for drinking and bathing. Farther back are plants and hammocks for sleeping. The floor is a harsh white, the walls are translucent glass and every sound you make is echoed by a tenfold. You can really hear it when people frantically search the new arrivals, crying with joy when they see family members, screaming and wailing when they don't. Some just sit at the fringes of the crowd, too numb, shocked, and tired to care. Some even walk into the second chamber with hopes of getting some food before everyone else.

After five minutes, I push myself up on trembling arms. I swear, I will never be one of the indifferent. I look behind me, suddenly remembering the boy. He is gone. I am suddenly very annoyed. I saved his life. The least he can do is say thank you. But I shake it off, no use holding a grudge, they just turned you sour and bitter. Better to find Cree and Montag. But at the same time, I feel my blood boil as I cross the plaster floor of the BioSphere, by makeshift cloth shoes slapping on the floor, sending a pleasant sting up my legs. At least I can feel that.

The first place I check is the third lake, Cree, Montag and I always agreed to look for each other there. I easily spot Cree, it's like looking for myself. She looks like me in almost every way, except I am more muscular whereas she is incredibly thin. We share the same almond shaped eyes, pale skin, and shoulder length, straight, black hair. I have heard we are something called 'Asian,' but there's no need for arbitrary labels based on appearance. Besides, Asian means nothing besides a word to describe you and the less words you have to describe yourself, the less you care about yourself and the more you can focus on your work. Cree immediately spots me as well, relief flooding her face as she runs to me.

"Linnea! Thank God, I can't find Montag anywhere." My mouth dries immediately, despite the water I just drank. Montag's line left before us...she should be here. "Leanne, what do we do?" She cries. I can tell she's about to have a panic attack, something which almost killed her once. I place a comforting hand on her shoulder, offering the closest thing to a smile I can manage at the moment.

"She's...probably just off bragging to some guys or something..." I say, trying to keep the panic out of my voice while sounding calm. The result was kind of a droning deadpan, which is unfortunately the way most of my sentences end up. Cree knows me enough to recognize my emotions, or at least I hope she does... "Come on, let's looks for her."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, someone grabs my arm. I whip around, fists ready. Fights aren't very common so soon after a rotation, but you never know, someone could have come earlier and had time to rest. I only can hope that my legs aren't shaking so bad that I'll fall over.

Thankfully, I don't even have to worry about that. A woman stands behind me with tears streaming down her face, falling into the deep lines on her sun damaged face. I am surprised, she appears to be around 30 or 40. Many people don't make it to that age. As soon as I turn around, she hooks her skinny arms onto the front of my shirt.

"My baby!" She screeches. "My Nora! Have you seen my baby?" She's starting to attract attention even as I disentangle her arms from my shirt and attempt to calm her down. Cree stands frozen. Help me, you coward! "Please! My baby, my Nora, you knew her! Please, is she still alive? She can't be dead, she can't!" As she speaks I vaguely remember someone named Nora, one of the few lucky girls to live with her immediate family, her aunts and uncles. This means this lady is probably her aunt...suddenly she starts clawing at my face and screeching.

"My baby! Where is she! You know! Show me my Nora!" I don't want to hurt this hysterical woman...but I can't sacrifice the use of my eyes, there is no one to fix them, no doctors or anything. Just as I make up my mind to push her off, a caramel colored arm covered in scars shoots in between us.

"Woah, woah, chill out." A very strong voice calls, pulling us apart. It's a voice I know quite well, a deep breath that sounds like it's always teetering on the edge of laughter. The woman pulls away, eyeing me warily, than scampers off. I turn to my savior, a 6 foot tall woman with wavy black hair and glinting copper eyes. My eyes narrow.

"Montag."