I bolt upright in bed, screaming.
Quin is in my room in a matter of seconds. He must’ve been sleeping in the sitting area.
I’m drenched in sweat and tears. I begin to retch as Terrance’s face floats back into my mind. Of all the people I’ve met in the past few months, for it to come down to Terrance….
Quin clutches me tightly, trying to get me to settle down.
I hear feet pounding down the hallway; Braxton and Rabaan are next to enter.
“What happened?” Braxton shouts.
“She’s had a nightmare,” Quin answers, brushing my wet hair from my face.
I hang onto him as a life-line, fearing if I let go I’ll be sucked back in, to the vision of Terrance murdering my family and friends….
“That must’ve been some nightmare,” Rabaan adds. “We heard her all the way downstairs.”
Sobs shake my body and I’m suddenly chilled to the bone. Quin wraps me up in my blanket as Braxton and Rabaan leave. He cradles me, rocking me gently.
“It was Terrance,” I whisper to him. “He did it. Terrance he killed them.”
“It was just a nightmare,” Quin tries to reassure me.
“No, it wasn’t.” I gently pull myself away from his hold. “I remember it all now. He tossed detonators into one of the girls’ bedchambers, then closed the door just before they ignited.”
“How would he have gotten the door open, Trea? He would’ve needed access to the biometrics reader in order to do that.”
“He did. He had a severed hand in his palm, which is how he opened and closed the door.”
“Are you sure?”
I take a deep sigh before answering.
“Yes.”
Quin gets up from the bed, hands rubbing the side of his head. He puts his arms around me again and holds me tightly. I feel warmth grow between us, which I haven’t felt in a while. We stand there for several minutes, neither of us wanting to move. Eventually sleep overtakes us. I crawl under my blankets, Quin by my side.
When I wake in the morning he’s gone.
I don’t leave my room at all the next day. Even when Jagger makes the effort to check on me, I turn him away. Quin brings me my meals, but I hardly eat. I feel myself wasting away. Knowing the truth behind who destroyed the Dormitories has taken its toll on me.
How could this be? He was my friend. I trusted him. I risked my life for him.
The next morning a constant pounding on my door rouses me from bed. I try to ignore the noise by putting the pillow over my head, but the banging won’t stop. I drag myself out of bed to go yell at the person disturbing me.
“Good morning, Trea,” Superior Hersher announces, looking severe in a crisp blue suit, hair tightly pulled back into a chignon. “Captain Braxton has informed me that you’re not feeling too well. Is there anything I can do to assist you?” Her manner is cool and matter of fact, not at all comforting.
“No, I’m fine.”
She hesitates a few moments to take stock of my appearance and demeanor. “Come with me please,” she demands more than requests. I get dressed and reluctantly follow.
We take the stairs up to the main floor, and walk over the connection bridges to the Predestination Center’s entrance. Eryn is waiting for us, a bland expression on her pristine face. She enters in a code on her side of the door, which quietly slides open. We pass through, after which the door closes and locks behind us.
“Newborns to six year olds live and learn in this building,” the Superior explains. “Each child has a purpose. Some will become teachers, doctors and nurses, others will be trained as Regulators and guards for the High Ruler and Superiors. The remaining children are coded to be Laics, to live and work in the Boroughs.”
She pauses briefly, making sure I’m paying close attention.
“The room directly in front of us is the Destiny room. Infants and toddlers up to age two are monitored and observed here to see what qualities they may exhibit.”
We cross the hall and enter into a large room segregated into smaller areas by half walls. Each section has several children of one particular age group. “When the children are close to turning three years old, a code is embedded into their wrists, which marks them for life. This code tells the instructors what purpose the child will have for the rest of their existence.”
“Why?”
“Why? To assist in population control and to keep the Laics in their place, of course. Tyre does the same thing. They have several of their own hatcheries, as does Acheron.”
“What about children who are born in the Boroughs? You can’t predestine them.”
“There’s no breeding in the Boroughs,” Eryn states, grimacing at the idea. “We take measures early in a child’s life to ensure this doesn’t occur. There are incentives given to women who feel an obligation to assist in the creation of children. They’re sent to live in a hatchery for several years, giving birth to four or five children, after which they are sterilized and sent back to the Boroughs.”
It’s my turn to grimace. The idea of using people as breeding machines repels me.
“It’s not as horrible as it sounds,” Superior Hersher says in reaction to the face I make. “Many of the women are happy to do this, as they know they’re contributing to the wellness of society.”
“What about the citizens of Acheron and Tyre?”
“They are limited to only two or three children. That’s to prevent overcrowding,
