Memory

Chapter Nineteen- Trystan

“I wonder where we’re going this time,” a soft voice says to my right. I look in that direction, and a red-headed teen stands to her friend, of whom is glancing around her with apprehensive brown eyes.  

The red-headed girl’s head shrugs, the agitated look in her gaze fading as she spoke. “Who knows.”

The crowd buzzes with incoherent conversations that I don’t make an effort in listening to, but the noise dims down as Forrester walks into the lobby quietly, a folded paper in his hands. As the crowd gets dead quiet, he speaks.

“Good day, young Survivors. I am sorry for the extremely short notice, but the request from the Other Resistance came so suddenly I haven’t gotten the chance.”

A hands raises from the front of the crowd. “Um, what’s the Other Resistance?”

Forrester looks down and nods. “Good question, Marcus.” Oh, Ethan’s brother! I forgot he was here. I haven’t seen much of him lately. “This group, mostly known as Survivors, has an official name; Impedance. Which is another word for resistance. The Other Resistance is another organization like us that dwells mainly in Stockton, a few miles south of Sacramento. One of their spies residing within Sacramento fled narrowly from the grasp of the Government. He states to have first-hand witnessed civilians being taken from their homes and taken to be Treated.”

A few murmurs are thrown around from person to person in the cluster of people, and I frown. Surely they aren’t intimidated by this?

Suddenly there is a louder voice among the others that exclaims, “They can’t get away with this!”

Slowly, the other kids start agreeing and erupt with fierce howls and shouts of determination. I can’t help but join in, raising my fist and raising my voice to holler. The Government has pushed themselves too far, and they’re going to find themselves in some serious trouble if this doesn’t stop.

Forrester waits calmly for the commotion to stop, and when it does, he claps his hands once. “Thankfully, our equipments are being transferred to our destination later. Now, I want you all to separate into your assigned groups.”

Slowly, the crowd in front of me starts to thin out, but I stay where I am, still clueless. I have no group.

“Oh, yes.” Forrester calls my name and beckons me over. “I almost forgot. Come here and I will assign you to a group, Trystan.”

Stifling an annoyed sigh, I push myself off the wall, sauntering up to him. He looks down at me and says, “You will go to them over there.” He points to my left, and I almost begin to go into a hissy fit when I see who is in my group.

Lindsey stands with her hands on her hips, glancing around, looking annoyed. She is flanked closely by a blonde girl I recognize from the first time we met on one side, and on the other side the jockey-looking boy that she used to make me jealous as a first impression. There is a few that I don’t know, but when I peer behind Lindsey, I see the familiar figure of Ethan. He stands at a three-quarter position, so I can’t really see his reaction. Maybe he’s not paying attention at all.

Nodding thanks to Forrester, I make my way over to my group. As soon as I’m a few steps away, Lindsey catches sight of me and immediately scowls. She audible moans and says to her minions, “Look who decided to join us. Ms. Anger Issues.”

She sneers at me.

I ignore.

Brushing past her, I walk up to Ethan. He looks up with a surprised face, which quickly turns to satisfaction. “Hey there,” he says, straightening his posture.

“Hi.” I glance to my right, catching sight of Lindsey muttering to her friends. I roll my eyes towards them, and Ethan says, “Sorry about them. I hate when they pick on you like this.” I look at him, expecting him to glance away when I do. But he evenly holds my gaze silently, waiting for my response.

“It’s fine,” I say, smiling before looking at Forrester. He seems to getting ready to speak, and the crowd slowly hushes themselves. Ethan comes up stand by my side. At that moment I realize that I’ve gotten way taller over the months. He’s as tall as Dimitri, and I’m up to his neck.

“Survivors, I now need something more of you. There will be a few nurses coming in, and I need you all to form a line in front of each. You will all be injected with this new tracking device we created. It will help us make sure that you are okay and where you’re supposed to be. Once you are injected with it, I need you to tap it gently.” Just as he finishes speaking, three white-clad women nurses come in through a door to our left, settling themselves down at a table in the far right corner of the lobby. They all carry many briefcases, and when they open them, they reveal these small thin tubes with green flashing lights on the inside. I stare at them in sudden interest, and I start to think that Ethan will probably be just as fixed on these machines as I am.

The groups mingle again to form lines in front of them, and we find ourselves in the middle line, towards the back. With Lindsey at the head of us, of course.

“Tell me,” I now say to Ethan. “Do you know where Dimitri is?”

He shakes his head, looking at me. I have a feeling he isn’t telling me something about Dimitri, but I don’t bother. Instead, I look away and nod. “Thanks anyways.” He nods as well, and before we know it, we are in front of the line.

Ethan goes first. I see him flinch as the nurse pulls up his shirt sleeve and jabs the needle into his arm. I wouldn’t really say it was a needle. More like a thin stick.

He now steps back, looking down at his arm. There is no blood left behind, of which intrigues me. This new technology is apparently flawless. It shouldn’t fail me when I’m out there.

I stick out my arm, and the nurse grips it firmly, as if I was to pull away at the sight of the needle. I probably would have, but I keep my cool as the twelve-inch stick infiltrates the skin on my forearm. I feel almost nothing, and the stick leaves no trace except a small, circular incision scar. I tap my arm, feeling the firm tracking device in it. I hear one beep when my finger touches it, making me wary of doing it again. I nod thanks to the nurse, who is already waving for the next soldier to come forward. I meet Ethan where he stands a little way from our group near the triple doors to the backyard.  

Soon, the Lieutenant asks us to form three lines, just like we did with the nurses, but now in front of the doors leading out into the backyard. I peer through the tall-framed windows, catching glimpses of two big trucks with their back doors open wide, the lights inside illuminating the dark walls. They look as if they can fit a hundred of us. Some older-looking soldiers completely dressed in black clothes seem to be loading the last of our supplies into a smaller truck. All these vehicles are lined up in front of the exit pathway, parallel to dense trees enveloping this section of the campus.

Forrester says, “At my count, open the doors and go to the trucks and the soldiers outside will assign you to one of them.”

I look ahead of me, aware of Ethan standing firmly by my side. I watch as the doors open, feel Ethan’s hand grip mine for reassurance, aware of Lindsey’s hateful gaze boring into my back. And as I do, I suddenly feel a sense of foreboding. Something bad might happen today.

Something really bad.