The Unfavorable Page 6

  “Why do you want to know?” she accuses.

  The girl is glaring at me, as if I’m going to use her to get up to Geha and taking a step away from me.

  “Curiosity, I guess,” I admit with a shrug.

  I don’t mention how I’ve never seen anyone from Geha down here and have no idea why they would want to be here. Nor the fact I’ve never been interested in touring the city above the Boilers.

  “I took the key to the gate off the wall,” she accedes. “I used them to gain entry to this place and have them on my person, so I may get back safely.”

  Taking mental note, I notice the way she emphasizes the word ‘safely’. She must know I have no interest in harming her, or gaining access to Geha? Life outside the city walls isn’t perfect, but I’ve heard it’s much less stressful out here than inside there. I’ve never even thought about seeing what it’s like.

  “I’ve never seen you in Geha,” the girl muses. “Who are you?”

  “No, you wouldn’t have seen me within the walls,” I chuckle.

  This girl is naïve. I guess it’s true that they only care about what benefits them. Guilt washes over me as soon as the thought crosses my mind. Maybe others are like that, but she doesn’t seem that way. She clearly cares about what happened to her classmate that arrived a few minutes before her. I don’t think she actually knows what happens down here.

  “Why?” she asks, a thirst for knowledge driving her now. She’s no longer afraid of me or cautious.

  “Well, to put it plainly, I was born Unfavorable,” I announce with a shrug. Glancing in her direction, I can see wrinkles in her nose where she’s scrunched it. Either she doesn’t believe my answer or doesn’t understand.

  “What do you mean, born Unfavorable?” she inquires, generally confused about how that’s even possible.

  “What do you think happens to those that are deemed Unfavorable?” I quiz. I don’t mean to sound condescending or rude, I’m honestly curious about what she believes. What the best and brightest of our kind has decided to reveal to their youth.

  “We’re informed before the day of our Bleeding Rite that those who receive an Unfavorable grade are taken to a special school that can better help them adjust. However, I’ve begun to question the teachings of our elders. My brother—”

  “Where is it, Burners?” an unknown male voice yells on the other side of the door.

  “Loyals,” I breathe. Looking into the girl’s eyes, I know that she understands my meaning and anxiety. They’re searching for the key she took to make sure she would be able to get back home to Geha. “If they find out you took the key, they will leave you down here.”

  It’s the truth, but I regret telling her that. The fear that contorts her features pulls at my heart, making me want to protect her. Determined to get her safely out of this mess, I walk toward the door quickly crossing the room. I pause only to look into her eyes, mere inches from mine, and speak.

  “Do you trust me?” I ask.

  She hesitates, and I don’t blame her. Still, she nods. I place my hand on the doorknob, ready to make a crazy distraction for her escape. I turn my gaze to the door, preparing myself for what’s about to happen.

  “When the door shuts behind me, count to ten,” I inform her. “After that, run to the gate and don’t look back. Be quick and quiet or they’ll spot you. Make sure to drop the key on the floor inside the Boiler room before going back up to Geha. Do you understand?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see her nod. Good. As I’m turning the knob, she grabs my arm with her soft fingers, stopping me just before I open the door.

  “Wait!” she cries a little too loudly.

  I wince, hoping the Loyals outside didn’t hear. Staring down at my feet, I wait. After a pause, she finds her voice again, but this time it’s nothing more than a whisper.

  “Will I see you again?”

  I chuckle, surprised she would even think about that right now. She’s a little insane if she’s more worried about that than herself. I look up at her with a grin I can’t hide.

  “I hope so,” I say, biting my lower lip before storming out of the room and slamming the door shut behind me.

  Chapter 6

  Alora

  The instant the door closes behind the Unfavorable boy, I lean my ear against the cool metal as I count.

  One, two, three…

  I can hear Loyals yelling at Burners, and they begin raising their voices back. They are getting blamed for my thievery. Among the roaring crowd, I can hear his baritone yelling obscenities at the Loyals above all others.

  Four, five, six…

  The yelling gets louder. It’s more than just the boy trying to help me. Protests are coming from the Burners. I’m getting nervous that a riot is going to break out. A distraction is helpful, but I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me.

  Seven, eight, nine…

  The man’s voice is clear above everyone else’s again. It sounds really far away – as if he ran to the furthest corner away from me to make sure no eyes would see my escape. I’ll have to analyze his intentions later.

  Ten.

  No time to waste now. I fling open the door and dash towards the gate, stopping for only an instant to look back at my savior. He’s in the far corner making a scene with one of the other Burners. It looks like he started a fight. Everyone’s attention is on them, and a few of the Loyals are trying to break it up.

  It takes me fighting against all my instincts to stop myself from stopping it. Instead, I do as I was told and unlock the gate before making it to the other side. I toss the keyring into the Boiler room before running back up the stairs. I run as fast as I can, never looking behind me or stopping to catch my breath. Not until I get back home.

  I open the door and slam it shut, leaning my back against it. I’m overjoyed my parents aren’t around, so they won’t ask questions. I lower myself to the ground, breathing heavily from the anxiety of almost being caught, gulping in air as quickly as my lungs will allow.

  My breathing begins to slow after a few moments, but my paranoia creeps up behind it. I lift myself up enough to see out the window to the right of the door, kneeling on the floor. I pull back the curtain just enough to ensure I wasn’t followed. Paranoia satisfied, I’m able to fully regain my composure.

  Well, almost. There are still too many questions that need answering. Even more so now that I talked with that strange man. How could anyone be born Unfavorable? Why didn’t he seem interested in coming back to Geha? The most unnerving question is why did I feel comfortable enough to almost tell him about Micah?

  Maybe I should have asked him about my brother. If that’s where Unfavorable are taken, then he would know something about where he was taken. Where Alec was taken. I wish I had more time to explore, or at least ask questions. There’s so much I still don’t know about our world – the world outside the walls of this society.

  Even if I wanted to go back, it’s too late now. I wouldn’t make it home before dark, and Mom and Dad will be home soon. Tomorrow I will return and find that man. Tomorrow I will get the answers I’ve been waiting for the last six years. Until then, I’m resigned to spending the evening with my parents. I get up off the floor and make my way to the kitchen. I don’t have much of an appetite, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do something nice.

  While I wait for them to get home, I start whipping up dinner: a rather plain meatloaf. If I weren’t so distracted by the image of that shirtless man in the Boilers, I would have made something spectacular. This will have to do. Mom and Dad arrive home as I’m setting the meal on the table. They seem to be in a particularly good mood, but I don’t really notice. I can’t stop thinking of that strange man. I wish I had asked for his name…

  “Al,” mother calls from her seat. I didn’t realize I was so deep in thought until she brings me back. “Are you alright? You haven’t really touched your dinner.”

  “Yeah,” I lie. It’s not like I can tell them I met this rea
lly handsome boy down in the Boilers this afternoon. Along with the possibility of finding answers about my missing brother. “I’m just really missing Micah today.”

  “Oh, honey,” she says, almost chuckling. I hadn’t realized I said something humorous. “That is in the past. It’s over and done with. We have you and your fabulous Rite results!”

  “What?” I exclaim in disbelief. How can she blow of Micah as nothing but a memory that holds no value? “But what if he’s still alive out there somewhere?”

  “Your mother’s right, sweetie,” Dad interjects. “It’s time to focus on the positive rather than living in the past.”

  I want to argue but hold my tongue. There’s no talking to them. I found evidence that Micah is most likely still alive, but I have no idea how they will react finding out I’ve ventured below the city today. Instead, I play along. I smile and eat a few bites of dinner to appease them.

  Mom and I clean while Dad readies the front room. He sets up a few candles around the room to make it more relaxing. Mom talks at me about my future again while I ignore her. She doesn’t seem to notice. I nod every once in a while, so it looks like I’m paying attention, but I don’t really hear anything she says.

  Tonight is spent like any other: family reading time in the front room. I used to love this time with them reading a good book, but tonight it seems tainted. Mom is deep in her Healer guide printed a couple centuries ago, while Dad is studying from a newly printed Developer textbook written by a colleague of his. Those that become too old to help in their given fields become teachers and authors.

  I’m not even sure what I’m reading this evening. There’s a book in front of me and I see the words, but I’m not comprehending them. I chose a book that I’ve read before, so I wouldn’t have to concentrate on it. I’m too anxious for my trip tomorrow to pay attention to anything else for any length of time. I’m just not sure which I’m more excited about: knowing for sure what happened to Micah or seeing the mysterious man again.

  Dad notices the time before I do. He shuts his book with a sigh and touches Mom’s shoulders tenderly to let her know it’s almost time for lights out. She gently closes her book and places it on the table next to her chair before getting up to follow Dad. He smiles at me goodnight, while she waves and blows me a kiss behind him. I smile back but it isn’t genuine like Mom’s.

  I close my novel and set it on the coffee table in front of me, dragging my feet all the way to my bedroom. I can’t even comprehend the idea sleeping right now. I feel like I’m on the edge of something huge and it’ll slip through my fingers if I wait too long to grab it.

  Would that man be in the Boilers right now if I were to visit? Do the Burners work through the night even though the power is off? They must, since we’re still able to use hot water…

  With all these thoughts running through my head, I’m not able to fall asleep right away as I’m sure my parents do. I toss and turn. I can’t find a comfortable spot on my bed. The lights are off for several hours before my eyelids start to droop. I’ve always found the lights off ritual to be oddly relaxing but can’t explain why. There isn’t a sound when they turn off. Sometimes I expect something similar to a generator running out of power, but that’s never what happens.

  Instead, the lights simply fade away. Fade into the shadows to wait until morning when they can brighten up our world once again. Tonight, I don’t find any comfort in their disappearance, though. It just means I have several hours before I have the opportunity to search out Unfavorable territory again.

  With sleep nowhere on the horizon, it’s going to be a long night. Minutes feel like hours and hours almost feel like days. There’s no reprieve.

  When I do fall asleep it’s well into the night. The last time I looked at the clock on the wall, it was 3:14am. I’m tormented by nightmares, too. I didn’t expect to get a restful night’s sleep, but the dreams I have make me wish I had kept myself awake through the night.

  One in particular haunts me more than the others: I’m in the Boiler room again searching for Micah. I find him, but he’s angry with me. He asks me accusatory questions like ‘why didn’t you ever come looking for me?’ over and over.

  His voice grows with every iteration, too, until he’s yelling at me. His face turning purple from anger and the force of his screams. I try reaching out to him, to calm him down, but Loyals grab him before I can get close.

  He continues to shriek, not really paying any attention to the ones dragging him away from me and towards the Boilers. I try to run towards him, but my feet are heavy and don’t allow me to move very far. The Loyals open one of the Boilers and throw Micah inside while he continues to screech at me.

  When they close the door on him, I finally wake. Not gracefully either. I’m on the floor wrapped up in my blanket with a cold sweat covering my face. Breathing heavily, I use my blanket to wipe away the sweat. Righting myself, I stand and make my way into the kitchen to see if my parents are around.

  The house is eerily quiet – there’s no ruffling or noises of them getting coffee or Mom making breakfast. Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I enter the kitchen to see no one there. Even the dishes have been cleaned from breakfast without my knowledge. They must have left for work without waking me up. Strange.

  I’m a little disappointed I slept so late. I know how to make myself something to eat, but I enjoy Mom’s cooking. Okay, I really just like the time I get to spend with them together. It’s a non-spoken tradition between the three of us, and now it feels like it’s been broken. Another metaphor for our family dynamic. I know I’ve been distancing myself from them a bit, but this comparison digs into my inner child, cutting away some of my innocence.

  I walk over to the table, empty of breakfast dishes, where a piece of paper is situated in my spot with neat, curvy writing scribbled onto it. Only Mom could have written it. Dad’s is much tinier and definitely not as legible. Already assuming what it says, I pick up the piece of paper and read it through entirely.

  As expected, it explains that they left for work and let me sleep, thinking it’ll help me make my career decision. I sigh, forgetting that deadline is looming. It’s the last thing from my mind right now with the clues I’ve dug up about Micah’s possible whereabouts. Even now it isn’t a burden I’m ready to face.

  Quickly, I bathe and dress myself for the day, preparing to require another bath as soon as I get home later tonight. I want to make my parents happy and proud, but the only thing on my mind is finding Micah. Or finding out what happened to him, at least.

  I’m throwing on my sweater as I’m running out the door, slamming it shut in my haste. It’s embarrassing, but it definitely startled me when it closed. I’m so focused on getting out of the house and back to the Boilers that I didn’t expect it to be that loud. I only hesitate momentarily before I’m running through the streets towards Central Hall.

  As soon as I reach the building, I veer to the back while making sure to keep my eyes open for Loyals. I arrive at the corner in time to see two of them walking back inside Central Hall. Being an opportunist, I make my move. Sneaking towards the familiar alleyway, I tiptoe to the entrance of the tunnel leading back to the Boilers.

  It isn’t until I’ve lowered the trapdoor on top of myself that I begin feeling anxious. The mysterious guy I met yesterday obviously works in the fields with the Drudges, too, who’s to say he’ll be in the Boilers when I get there? I can’t imagine anyone else down there being as friendly towards me as he was. He helped me get out of there without getting caught. I kind of owe him, which sucks. I have never liked owing anyone anything.

  I keep my composure until I reach the landing with the gate leading to the room with the large Boilers. It’s at this point that I realize I’m not going to have an easy time trying to find my helper. I don’t even know if he’s going to help me again.

  I’m taking a leap of faith that I’m really unsure will actually work out. I’m not going to let my anxieties keep me from finding out the truth
, though. I’ll find that man and get my answers. I’ll wait all day and night if I must.

  Grabbing the keys off the clay wall, I carefully creep into the Boiler room. Using the same sort of strategy as the first round here, I duck behind piles of coal while men are working diligently against the opposite end of the room. My best bet is to see whether he’s in the same room I bumped into him before.

  Taking the risk, I bolt to the room with the piping. Closing the door, I whip around so he can’t sneak up on me if he’s here, my back against the cool metal. I search the room twice hoping he’s hiding behind the monitor next to the back wall, but there’s no one there.

  I’m more disappointed than I expected I would be. I kind of wanted to see his face again, and I wouldn’t have minded seeing him shirtless.

  In an attempt to feel close to him, I walk towards the monitor in the back corner. That’s where I found him yesterday. The piping seems much thicker and old up close. I turn to the monitor, curious whether I would be able to read what’s on it. Instead, I find a piece of paper left lying on top of it.

  My heart flutters. Maybe it isn’t meant for me, but I can’t see who else it could possibly have been left for. I pick it up and unfold it carefully to read the tiny scribbles written on it. His handwriting is worse than my Dad’s, but I find it endearing although there isn’t anything personal or romantic written on it.

  The note simply gives me directions to another room like this one a little ways down the wall – further into the Boiler room. I can’t stop the thought of a trap from forming in my mind, but I dismiss it immediately. After helping me get away safely yesterday, there’s no way he would set up a trap for me. It doesn’t feel like something he would do.

  Going with my gut, I pocket the note and take long strides back towards the door. I take a deep breath before opening it and rolling back behind a pile of coal. I glance at the door to make sure I shut it completely before dive-rolling to the next pile. My clothes and skin are covered in dirt and coal, but it doesn’t bother me.