By Any Other Name

Growing Numbers

The curse of 812 was supposed to make me different. I was supposed to be the one that didn't fit in with the rest of the docile Division 1. I was the weird one, the black sheep. 

So it was a hell of a shock to find out I wasn't the only one. 

Sev and I were making our way through the orchards. We had made serious headway on the walls. The patrols didn't come this far in and the trees covered just about everything. But as we got closer, I noticed someone standing nearby. He was one the younger Division 1ers, a number I hadn't learned. He stared at us with wide eyes. Or rather, Sev. Without saying a word, he turned to run among the trees. 

I don't know why I chased after him. He hadn't done anything wrong. But something in my gut was telling me this was important. Sev, ever silent, followed after me without protest. For a giant, he could move pretty quickly. 

We'd made it about halfway through the orchard when I realized where we were heading. My stomach bottomed out. 

Fuck the Prophet, how did they know? 

I'd picked my spot to weaken the wall with purpose. It was in a blind spot from the patrols, with enough foliage in the trees to keep everyone covered. There was a slab of concrete to cover the hole, although it wasn't like anyone was coming to check.  But I was absolutely certain it was where this kid was running. 

We caught up with him just as he was about to raise the alarm. Literally. I had to pounce on the kid to put my hand over his mouth. 

"Idiot, keep quiet," I hissed. "You start yelling and the Overseers will be here in an instant." The kid froze in my grasp, but nodded. I stepped back and let go. And that was when I saw them. 

There were five of them, all with tools in hand. I saw the holes set in the wall and my jaw dropped. it was huge. There were so many of them and they were bigger than what Sev and I had been up to on our own. Five guilty faces turned to stare at me. No, not at me. Sev. He was the giant that always followed the rules, after all. 

"He's with me," I said quietly. That's when they were staring at me. 

"How many of us are there?" I asked. At the word "us" they visibly relaxed.  

"No one knows," one girl said. "It's not like we can ask around." 

She had a point. But with the number and size of these holes, there was way more than just a handful of Division 1ers at work. There was a fleeting moment of sadness, like I somehow wasn't "special" anymore with so many others at work. But then something was fluttering in my chest. 

When 640 had first approached me, the idea sounded fantastic and nearly mythical. A chance to follow through with my "curse" and do something good. It wasn't until that moment that I realized I had never really thought of this as being something real. It was like a daydream I made a halfhearted attempt to play out in my spare time. Seeing everyone here, and all the progress made... 

"We could actually do this," I muttered to myself. Then a thought occurred. 

"Does anyone know if 211 is in on this?" I asked. I hadn't heard her blathering about it, like she no doubt would. But  there was a small part of me that was desperate to know my closest friend was actually on my side. But at the mention of her number, they froze. 

"Definitely not," one of them said. I frowned. 

"What does that mean?" I asked. The memory of the guy being dragged away by the Overseers sprang to mind. But that was just self-preservation, wasn't it? 

The five of them looked between each other for a moment, before looking back at me. The girl spoke again. Her voice was confused. 

"Has no one told you about The Followers?"