and some town called, Severance, where you say there are other survivors.”
Dawn nodded silently, remembering the questionnaire given to her by a dead childcare worker.
“Now, Dawn, I think it’s important for you to know that you’ve been brought to Archangel Tower and are going to be cared for in the Prime’s Orphanage for a period of time determined by myself, and the Prime. He is interested in the welfare of all citizens of Westprime, especially those who cannot care for themselves.” He smiled. “You will have health care, and be provided the basics, as well as education. I’ll be in charge of that.” He dragged the book on the desk over and folded his hands on it.
“After some testing you’ll be assigned to an appropriate grade where you’ll be taught the three ‘R’s’ by a handpicked staff of dead teachers in the Prime’s employ.” The Principal frowned at Dawn’s worried look. “Other lessons will be in municipal politics. There will also be a period set aside each day for social readjustment.” He smiled reassuringly. “The Change has left so many of us adrift, the Prime feels obligated to teach orphans and other foundlings the true history of Westprime and its leader.”
“You have to let me go,” Dawn pleaded, leaning forward in her chair. Her toes barely touched the ground. “I didn’t do anything to you.”
“But what have you done for yourself?” the Principal countered. “Wandering the lands, hiding in dangerous places, with no direction. No sense of purpose. Very little in the way of resources, like vermin living off the country’s wealth, and open to molestation from any number of criminal organizations.” He shook his head. “We had to help you.”
“But you didn’t help!” Dawn’s hands curled into fists. “Those things, those Toffers and their dogs attacked us.”
“ Us?” the Principal sniffed as he adjusted his glasses. “Do you mean to tell me, you count yourself one of that ragtag group of delinquents?” He stood suddenly, sliding a handkerchief out of his pocket. His right hand still clutched the old book. He clamped it in his left armpit as he unfolded the cloth. The man’s head almost touched the ceiling. His jacket was dark with perspiration.
“The air conditioning broke down,” he said self-consciously. “Always the budget cuts in education.” The Principal walked over to the framed picture of a fat man. The painted hair was brown and white and the eyes were piercing. He wore a moustache over a serious smile.
“Anything for the Prime,” the Principal chanted quietly, and dusted the lower portion of the picture frame with his handkerchief. “He protects us.”
“I have someone to protect me,” Dawn blurted out and then regretted it when a gleam appeared in the Principal’s eye.
“ Someone?” he breathed the word, nodding. “And who is this someone?”
“I mean, nobody,” Dawn struggled to recover. “I mean the kids.”
“That!” the Principal shouted, pointing a sharp finger at her, “is exactly why a child must have education.” He lashed the air with the finger and then paced toward his desk, eyes burning at the forever girl.
“Truth! Facts! Justice! The Prime!” He leaned forward. The veins stood out on his hands. “You enter his house. You accept the Prime’s generosity! And you lie?” He shook his head and stormed around the desk, leaning in sharply. Dawn could see the muscles bunching at his jaws, saw the heavy enamel of his teeth, and noticed a stench of coal and smoke on his breath.
“I won’t have it. This school won’t have it! The Prime won’t have it!” He slapped his thighs and leaned in deeper. “You tell the truth here!”
Dawn was crowded back in her chair. Her inner voice was a constant cry of: Run! Run! Run! But the Principal’s anger was hypnotic. His eyes were gold where everyone else’s was white. And the pupils were stiff black lines.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking away into her lap. “I’m scared.”
And the Principal’s attitude shifted and drooped, forced him down on a knee in front of her. “Well, that’s the truth, isn’t it, my dear?” He stroked her chin with a long-fingered hand. It was hot. “So much is different.”
“Yes sir,” she mumbled, kneading her fingers. “I only got scared.”
“Understandable,” he chuckled and stroked her knees. “So much has changed since you started traveling with your friend… Uh, what was his name again, dear?”
“Gregory,” Dawn said, eyes down in her lap. “ Gregory. A hunter.”
The Principal’s breath blew out in a steady quiet stream before he stood up. Then he watched Dawn for a few seconds before turning on a heel and walking back to his desk. There was a small box on it. He flicked a switch and said to Dawn: “What was the name of the worker who brought you here?” The Principal saw her confused look. “From the Dormitory.”
Dawn was frightened by his expression, but she couldn’t decide what was best to do-no time to think. “Um,” she breathed, “Frances?”
The Principal smiled: “Not Gregory?” And then grinning, he spoke into the box. “Mrs. Camp, could you please send Frances in?”
He stood up and leaned against the desk, his long legs out in front of him. He watched the door. Moments later the knob rattled and it swung open. Frances entered. Her dead features were composed.
“Ah, Frances,” the Principal clapped his hands. “Please come here.”
The dead woman walked over to him, her shoulders rounded and head hanging as Dawn had seen the other dead workers move.
“How’ve things been going, Frances?” he asked, reaching out a large hand and patting her shoulder.
“Very well…” Frances started but her voice was stopped when the Principal’s throttling hand closed on her throat. She made a garbled noise and clasped the man’s wrists.
He smiled, stood straight and held his arms out. His eyes never left Dawn. Frances continued to struggle weakly, but didn’t have the strength to break free. The Principal drew in a big breath and set a big foot across the toes of the dead woman’s shoes. With a wrench and a twist and a crunching noise, he pulled Frances’ head off.
The dead woman’s body continued to slap at his wrists, but he easily nudged it away with an elbow. The Principal hunched forward, his large nose and face pointed upward. The bones of his skull jutted out against the gray skin. His dark eyes suddenly all pupils, looked away with occasional reptilian glimpses at Dawn and Frances’ flailing body.
Dawn’s mind was blank with terror as the Principal carried Frances’ head over and dropped it in her lap. She reacted reflexively when the dead woman’s eyes blinked at her. Dawn wriggled away from it. The head rolled onto the floor and under her chair.
The Principal hissed. “You get out of my office and think about what you’ve done. I’ll ask you next time who you traveled with, and if you lie, it will be one of your friends in the Dormitory who suffers Frances’ fate.”
Dawn clapped her hands over her eyes. There was a noisy breaking sound as Frances’ body stumbled into a cabinet and knocked over a pitcher of water. The Principal sighed and walked back to his desk.
“I will need someone from maintenance for clean up,” he said into the box. “And, Mrs. Camp, please summon a worker from Dormitory Five to escort Dawn back to her quarters.” While he spoke he produced a notepad and wrote something on it.
Frances’ body staggered close to him, and he politely pushed past it, like she was just a strange woman in a crowded room.
“Think about what you’ve done.” He pulled Dawn off her chair. Her little slippers slid over Frances’ forehead. Her stomach turned.
“You have an appointment with the Doctor tomorrow,” he said folding the note and handing it to her. “Give him this.” He nodded his chin at the door. “Wait outside for your escort.”
Dawn’s ears were roaring as she hurried from the room. She passed the outer office and Mrs. Camp who was working there. She sat in a chair by the door. The forever girl opened the fold of paper with shaking hands and read a single letter, the number “1.”
45 – Double Cross
