Soulless (The Immortal Gene Trilogy Book 1) Page 2

  The following morning, we sat in strained silence around the breakfast table. Roman leaned forward on his elbows as Lisa stood behind in the kitchen, packing some food into a lunch box. The only person who didn’t seemed tense was Annie as she slurped down last night’s stew. She even dribbled some down her chin and onto her dress.

  “So, Annie, is there anything you want to talk about?” Roman cleared his throat. Annie glanced upwards confused, “Perhaps about your dream?”

  “Not really.” She quickly turned back and continued eating.

  Roman looked up at me knowing I was looking at him and frowned. I couldn’t eat knowing today we were going back to the technician. As a child, I hated every visit. I’d rather have my teeth pulled than have them poking around in my head.

  “Maybe it really was just a dream?” I suggested.

  “No nightmare can make a six-year-old scream like that,” Lisa said from the counter. She ran her fingers quickly through her straw, dry blonde hair. “Roman, the appointment is at nine. Can you please get ready?” Roman didn’t move his eyes away from Annie, almost like he wanted to catch her doing or saying something strange. Lisa then addressed me, “Nadia, don’t forgot your appointment today, too, with Doctor Phillips.”

  “That’s not until much later,” I dismissed quickly. “I want to go to the technician too with Annie.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “But I want to,” I insisted.

  “It’s okay.” Roman pushed back his chair. “Nadia should come with us. She can keep Annie controlled.” A knock came from the front door as Lisa stepped into the hall to answer it.

  At the entrance, a patrol officer stepped over the threshold. He had his helmet’s visor down and was scrolling through his notes on his electronic clipboard.

  “I’m here for Annie Richards, female, age six?” he asked without looking up.

  I jumped up from my chair angered. “You called the patrol?”

  “It’s just in case. Better safe than sorry,” Roman defended as he stood. “Annie. Go to the officer now.”

  From her seat next to mine, Annie cautiously wiggled out of her chair and approached the front door. She hesitated, which must have annoyed Lisa as she impatiently yanked Annie forward by the shoulder.

  “Stop dawdling,” she scolded. Annie tensed up. The visor on the officer’s helmet churned and I could faintly hear the hidden camera taking photos of Annie’s upturned gaze.

  He then stepped into the house and held his small phone to Annie’s face. The see-through screen flashed red as he positioned it against her eyes. Annie did her best not to blink but the neon glare made it difficult.

  “Look into the light,” the officer commanded before the phone beeped and the red glow disappeared. The clipboard in his hand hummed before he took a step back. At the data on his screen, he seemed to sigh irritated. “Another inconclusive read, Richards. Report to sector five for further processing.”

  Roman called from the back of the hall, “We’re already booked for the technician. We’re about to leave.”

  “Be sure you report straight there.”

  Lisa walked off as Roman headed upstairs to get ready. Annie turned around a little lost as I walked up and took her by the shoulder. I spun her to face me, ensuring I avoided eye contact with the officer and his motoring helmet.

  We shrugged into our large jackets and kicked into our thick leaded boots. Around our necks, we kept our gas masks just in case we walked across an open vent spewing chemical gas. There was always some sort of terrorist attack happening out in the capital. Just last month, the terrorist group known as the Mad Dogs had set off a chemical bomb in the sewer. The attack took out one-hundred-and-forty-five people in just six hours, erupting up through the drains and clouding the streets in poison. I pulled my shotgun out from under my bed as I snapped the neck back and checked the ammo. After I armed myself, I slipped into my backpack before securing a bandana over my nose and mouth. Annie grabbed onto my sleeve as I approached her at the front door.

  Roman walked out behind us with his pistol in his belt and a hunting knife in his grip. “Ready?” he asked before looking down at Annie. “Annie, where’s your pistol?”

  “In my bag.”

  “Okay, let’s head out.”

  Outside our house, weeds flourished in the cracked concrete as regrowth swallowed the deserted cars scattered throughout the streets. The remaining buildings towered over the top of us and stood like gutted skeletons while moss and rust scaled the walls until they covered the entire side in wild green. The city felt silent and giant as we snuck in underneath the shadows. As an old house would creak, we could hear the surrounding buildings groaning; their weakened walls and battered bodies moaned in threat of collapsing. Trash bags lined the curbs along with the dead, leaflets and trails of old newspapers, and wrappers littered the streets like autumn leaves while dirty water overflowed from the clogged drains. The wind would pass and lift the papers up, mocking our dead streets with playful dancing. Houses sat broken in their beds, windows smashed, doors permanently barricaded and the properties fenced behind barb wire. The mess of our city almost had an ugly beauty to it. The colours that wept between the cracked roads were always different. Sometimes brown, sometimes black and red as the streams pooled together near the curbs and disappeared into the chambers beneath our roads.

  When needed, I helped Annie hop over the large potholes as Roman scouted ahead, his neck swinging left and right to check down alleyways for threats.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, her voice innocent.

  I hitched my backpack higher. “To the capital.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re just visiting some people.”

  “Don’t you have to get the milk, Nadia?”

  I pulled on my collar. The nights may be cold but the heat was harsh during the day. “Not until later.”

  On the corner of the block was where Mr Rodgers lived. He was more mad than dangerous, I wasn’t even sure if he had a gun to guard his cardboard box from stray cats. His distinct shrills were like a homing beacon; he never ventured far from his small self-made hut under an old canopy. Today, he was banging his head against the bricks on the neighbouring building, muttering in his delusions. His body was lost among the layers of coats and scarfs, his face barely recognisable from the grim and matted black hair that frayed around his head.

  In low mumblings, he kept repeating himself, “Stop it. That clicking. Argh! Shut up! Shut up before I blow your brains out! One. One. One. One. One. One. One. One. Shut up! Shut up! That’s not my name.”

  Annie slowed to briefly glance at him before continuing on. I ensured to keep myself between her and him, just in case. He was one twitch away from throwing a tantrum, it really was only a matter of time.

  “Goddamn, that man is so loud,” Roman growled. “I have half the mind to just shoot him and get it over with.”

  Annie piped up, “You can’t do that. You’ll get in trouble.”

  “No one will know it was me.”

  “He’ll know,” I noted under my breath. Roman glanced back over his shoulder and gave me a half-smile. Arrogant, as always.

  The inner city was a forest of emptied buildings and giant monuments that had long been snapped in half by bombings and terrorist attacks. The smell of burning coated my tongue for days after each visit. I hated the inner city because of the mass amount of drug addicts and alcoholics that gathered there. People would have sex anywhere with the endless line of prostitutes selling themselves for a cigarette. That wasn’t to mention the months-old corpses that randomly appeared at every corner. We approached a woman who had collapsed on the ground perhaps a week ago, her legs sprawled and her clothes tattered with vomit and booze. Roman kicked her legs with the side of his boot.

  “When are they going to clean them up?”

  “Dad, you shouldn’t touch,” Annie lectured, again with the high pitch of her innocence. Roman ducked down and rolled the woman over.
Her blonde hair remained matted into a hive of knots, her jaw had popped out of place so her mouth dropped opened. Most of her teeth were gone, her lips bruised as though she had been punched multiple times. He shoved her back unnerved. “Inner people are just dogs.”

  When Annie would usually squeeze my hand at the sight of the dead, she remained slack in my grip. She even hopped over the corpse as if it was just another crack in the footpath. The closer we drew the clearer I heard the advertisement billboards speak. I tilted my head up as Annie stepped out of my grip. The sky was bleak with a grey storm that never seem to lift. On the billboards, beautiful women in white uniforms smiled down on us. They were always happy and always clean without a single blemish. They were so perfect; it was inhuman.

  “I am happy to be here.” The model’s voice announced across the city. “I am happy to have returned. I will make a better life for those around me and myself. It is my duty and purpose to uphold my responsibilities. I will be scanned. I will obey. I am happy to serve the Elite.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You and I live in different words, lady.”

  “Nadia? Come on, Dad’s getting too far ahead.” Annie turned and pestered. I spat on the ground and continued onwards, listening to cries of the common man get washed out by the Elite’s greatest lie.

  The iron gates to Sector 5 sat erect like giant tombstones erupting out of the earth. As we approached, the pacing guardsmen stepped up to the railing and shouted down from his post.

  “Civilians, move forward in single file to be scanned and processed before entering the sector. Any signs of disobedience will result in you being shot and incapacitated by electric Taser. Further penalties apply for anyone who causes trouble. Do you understand?” the guard barked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then proceed.”

  Roman stepped up to a small camera and leaned in as the red light flashed before beeping in its approval.

  Annie then walked up and did the same. I swallowed hard as I pulled the bandana down from my face. As I stepped up to the camera, unease fluttered through me. I always hated this part. Before I reached the camera, I stood back, knowing exactly where this was going.

  “Listen,” I shouted up to the guardsmen. They shifted their guns up into view. “The scan won’t work for me. I have official clearance papers right here.”

  “Step up to the scanner to be processed. No exceptions.”

  I clenched my jaw. I must’ve looked at the camera for only a split second, catching the flash of red before I jerked my head away. The machine gave off a warning screech. It was three sharp horns followed by a looping ring. I rolled my eyes and pinched the bandana back over my nose. As the guardsmen descended the stairs, I waited against the gates with my arms crossed.

  Roman sighed before he took out his phone and thumbed through his messages. Annie wrung her fingers together, unsure if she was able to approach me yet or not. I held my hand out to signal for her to stay back. One guard stepped out with his gun pointed at my head.

  “I told you, I have pap—” Cutting me off, the officer spun me and shoved my face against the iron wall. He held the Taser to the back of my neck; the sharp prongs were still hot from its last use.

  He quickly made a call on his cell. “Reporting an unclassified read, suspect to be a transplant user. Scanning detainee now.” He whipped his phone to my face where the red light flashed again. After a few rings, Doctor Phillips’ face appeared on his caller ID.

  “This is Doctor Hun. K. Phillips, classified class two. That’s my patient you’ve apprehended. Release her immediately,” he barked.

  “She doesn’t have a read.” The guard went to argue as Doctor Phillips raised his voice.

  “I wasn’t asking you. I’m telling you. In her possession, she should have a clearance card. I suggest you try that first before you continue to waste my time.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  “Good.” The connection dropped as the solider eased off my back.

  “Papers, now!” he demanded as I whipped my card out from my pocket and shoved it into his chest. He put the card into his chip reader before the phone beeped in its acceptance. I snatched the card back. “Better get that bug fixed, freak.”

  “Screw you!” I mumbled as I walked out of ear shot. “Every goddamn time. I swear a monkey can do a better job than them.”

  As the iron gates creaked open, Roman beckoned Annie and I through. “Don’t make trouble, Nadia. We’re already late.”

  We walked further into the sector as I loosened my grip around my gun. Roman moved more at ease but I kept my shotgun resting on my shoulders and out in clear view. Unlike the washed-out city surrounding the sector, Sector 5 looked more like a small market place with scattered merchants and professionals providing trade. People littered the footpath and roads as the guards patrolled the roof tops, their snipers always aimed and ready to fire. Inside Sector 5, it wasn’t so bad. People behaved themselves once in the line of fire. We approached the technician’s as Annie pulled against me. She recognised the slender building and looked at me for some sort of explanation.

  “Why are we going in there?”

  I swallowed hard to dislodge the unease in my throat. “We’re just getting a check-up.”

  Her body froze up out of fear. “Is this because I have bad dreams? I won’t have nightmares anymore. I promise,” she pleaded and took two steps back.

  Warmly, I hugged her into my side. “You’re not in trouble, Annie. You have nothing to be scared of. It’s just a quick check up; then we can go out to the park and play.”

  She puckered out her lower lip. “You promise?”

  Morally, I couldn’t promise her. I had no idea what they would find, and if she turned out to be blacklisted, there was nothing I could do to stop them from taking her. “Would I lie to you?”

  She smiled and relaxed a little. “Okay.”

  Once we were inside the technician’s building, Roman checked us in at the counter while I took Annie to the back of the waiting room. The entire complex was five-storeys tall but narrow like a spiralling staircase. The first two floors belonged to the technician, as the rest of the higher levels were where the patients slept.

  The waiting room was gutted except for a line of chairs nailed into the ground that ran along the walls. The brown wallpaper had peeled where dark patches had formed and spilt blood and other substances discoloured the carpet. I threw the hood of my jacket back and fixed my bandana around my neck over my gas mask. Annie kicked back into her chair and pinched her hands in-between her knees nervously.

  Roman sat down next to her and placed his bag between his ankles. I couldn’t sit. The restlessness of being inside this place had my stomach in knots. I had to pace. I had to keep moving. My hands were wringed together as though I was the one who was going to sit in the chair.

  “Did they say how long we had to wait?” I asked, pacing to and fro in front of Roman.

  He shrugged with a sniff. “No more than usual.”

  After a good hour, the nausea climbing my throat was now sitting on the back of tongue. I quickly pocketed my phone and walked into the adjoining hallway.

  “Where are you going?” Roman asked from his seat. Annie glanced up from her gaming pad as well.

  I answered over my shoulder, “Bathroom.”

  Inside the cubicle, the walls were stained with smeared gum and oily fingerprints. I went straight for the sink and turned the taps on full pressure, letting the hiss of the water striking the porcelain bowl calm me.

  As I peered up, it was hard not to see the exhaustion worn into my bronzed skin. My brown hair bunched over my right shoulder like a long horse’s tail, the loose waves intertwining into thicker, coarser knots. It also turned out I suffered from what they call ‘resting bitch face’; something I didn’t realise I had until a boy once pulled me aside to tell me I looked like a pms-ing robot. I had slapped him so hard I accidentally cut skin, but his words stuck with me like their own scar. Maybe my eyebrows were
too low or too bushy to make me look friendly, or maybe I really was always pissed off. I had plenty of reasons to hate this world and everyone living in it.

  I drew my lips into my mouth to moisten them but it did very little to bring some colour back. After a few moments, I let my head hang low in a sigh, before I scrubbed my face and hands and watched the taps turn themselves off. Annie perked up when I returned to my seat.

  “Did you want to play?” She gestured to her game but I couldn’t fake my usual enthusiasm. It was because of these technicians; they just bring out the worst in me.

  “No thanks, Annie.”

  “Miss Annie Richards?” A young nurse in dark overalls stepped out into the waiting room, with a clipboard in hand. Annie immediately shuffled back into me to buy herself some distance. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder as Roman stood.

  “Annie, the nurse is calling you.” He eased Annie forward with a smile. Annie turned and buried her head further into my side. Feeling Roman’s scornful glare, I slipped out of her grip and knelt down so we were at eye level. I could see myself in her a great deal, but unlike me, Annie’s eyes held a hopeful kindness. I clasped onto her small hands.

  “Annie, listen to me. I will be right here waiting for you. I promise nothing bad will happen to you and as soon as you wake up, we can go out and play by the park. But we have to figure out what’s happening in your dreams first, okay? So I need you to be brave.”

  I drew her into a hug, and then stood back to let the assistant lead her in. “We have set up the viewer’s room if you wish to watch.”

  “Can’t I be in the same room?” I asked.

  “Patients can’t have any other people who may disrupt their sequence. Your presence could cause her more harm than good. Just follow me and we’ll get everything set up.”

  Annie didn’t look back at me like she usually did when she was scared, as if she needed just that extra nudge of assurance to step over the threshold. Maybe her memories were triggering already.

  “Let’s go to the viewer’s room. I’ll be interested to see what her nightmares are about,” Roman insisted. The viewer’s room was small in comparison to the main operating theatre and positioned right up against the wall with a one-way mirror dividing the rooms. We took our seats silently behind the one-way mirror. Annie sat up in the technician’s chair as the assistant gently eased her wrists into the shackles and tied her ankles down. I noticed a pinch of concern cross Annie’s face once the helmet was lowered onto her head. She glanced around, perhaps in hope of seeing me or Roman near.