The Perfect World (The Perfect World Series Book 1) (47 page)

“That?” Cyrus pointed and mouthed to the other man.

He nodded and then made a pulling motion with his arm. Cyrus realized he wanted him to pull the lever on the control panel.

Will it help us escape? he wondered. Or will it help the workers escape? Both?

Cyrus didn’t know, but he decided to trust this man. After what this man had done for him, he wanted to help him in any way he could. He waited until the other three managers had gotten as far away on the other side of the room as possible. Then, his eyes searched for Scott. When he found him, crouching behind some boxes by the stairwell, he signaled his best friend towards the second floor. Scott nodded and Cyrus started moving.

The pair quietly made their way up the stairs, feeling dread with every step. They seemed sure that someone would spot them, yet  nobody did. Cyrus and Scott reached the control panel without a hitch. Then, without another thought, Cyrus pulled down the long red lever on the control panel. 

Both Cyrus and Scott jumped as an alarm started blaring all around them. Red lights started flashing and spinning from their positions on the walls. Cyrus heard loud gears snap and turn as it began to automatically open up the entry way. Cyrus saw all the workers looking around in confusion. All except one. The large ebony skinned man was staring right at him, and there was a small smile on his lips. He nodded his thanks in Cyrus’s direction and then turned to the other workers and shouted in a deep, baritone voice, “Run! Run for your lives! Head for the exits! Run!”

The other workers sprang into action and started running towards the exits. Cyrus briefly glanced at the managers, who were pointing and trying to make their way towards them. The stampeding crowd, however, precluded any movement they could make, and they all ended up being pushed against the wall. Cyrus saw one of them pull a phone from his pocket and speak hastily into it.

Deciding it was time to go, Cyrus pulled on Scott’s wrist and said, “Come on! We’ve got to get out of here!”

“Right behind you!” Scott said as the two took off at breakneck speed. They both knew this was their only opportunity to get away. They couldn’t miss it.

As they ran back down the stairs and towards the front exit, the pair found themselves jostled about by the larger workers who were running alongside them. Cyrus knew they weren’t trying to hit him, but they kept knocking into him in their confusion. This caused him to be pushed to the side and gradually he lost sight of the shorter Scott. Cyrus kept glancing around for him, but he couldn’t see him within all the moving bodies.

Cyrus noticed the air growing a little less repressive and realized he was close to the entry way. Once he was outside, he shielded his eyes from the bright sun and tried to find a place off to the side where he could see into the crowd. He ran his way over to the left side and waited at the edge of the crowd.

His green eyes scanned for any sign of Scott, but Cyrus couldn’t see him. He knew he needed to keep moving, but he couldn’t. In his panic, an image of Scott being shot and bleeding on the ground came to his mind. After all the death, he’d seen today, thinking of losing Scott was too much for Cyrus.

“Scott!” he cried out, rooted to the spot. He hoped beyond hope his friend could hear him. “Scott!”

He continued to call a few more times before a sharp blow to the head sent his helmet flying and knocked him from his feet. He landed on his back, smacking his already aching head in the process. Wet blood dripped down from a gash on his forehead, and he placed a hand to the aching wound. Slowly, he raised himself into a sitting position, only to find himself looking down the barrel of a gun.

Cyrus’s heart felt leaden as his eyes traveled up the barrel of the gun to his attacker. It was one of the black armored guards, sans helmet. The face that stared down at him was that of a young man, one who didn’t look much older than him. His skin was a deep brown, his thick, hair a messy heap of black with eyes to match. Those eyes were fixed upon him, and they were incredibly cold.

Cyrus briefly heard the gun cock, and he put his hands in front of him and shouted, “Wait! Wait, please!”

He saw the guard hesitate at the words, though he didn’t look any less menacing than before. Cyrus knew this momentary hesitation was the only chance he had.

“Listen to me,” Cyrus urged, his voice showing his own desperation. “I know you think you’re doing something good by protecting the perfect world. The truth is that perfect world and the destinies it hands out are just a way for them to keep control and power for themselves. They just use people to further their own ends and then they dispose of them when they’re no longer useful.”

The other man showed no indication he had heard his words. He was staring at him with the same coolness.

“I can prove it!” Cyrus kept going, trying to reach this other young man, so close to his own age. “Come with me to the Quarantine Dome. The people there can explain everything to you. Explain to you why you’re ordered to kill children.”

There was a short flash of light in the dark eyes, but the other young man remained silent. Cyrus breathed in a shaky breath and held up his hand to the guard. “If you let me live, I’ll take you to that place. You can come with me and live life the way it was supposed to be.”

When there was no answer to his words, Cyrus’s eyes met the cold hard gaze of the other young man and held it. Offering one last, desperate plea, he whispered one single word.

“Please.”

A moment of silence passed between them. Then his reply came in the form of the butt of the gun connecting with the side of his head.

“You are a sick man who escaped from one of the Quarantine Domes. Your words don’t fool me.” The voice was low, dark and cold. His finger tightened on the trigger. “My life is perfect. You will not take it away from me.”

Cyrus stared up at the other young man in horror as the words began to register. He drew one last breath before a sharp pain went through his head. His vision clouded and then faded into a single shade of red. His body collapsed to the ground and he knew no more.

Julian, back at the security station, watched the scene unfold in disbelief. Hands shaking, he continued to stare at Cyrus’s body, long after the shot was fired. He kept staring, as if somehow that would repair the hole in his friend’s forehead that was dripping blood onto the ground.

He had been standing, and he felt his legs give out. He sank back into his chair and could not turn away as the other screens showed the remnants of the raiding team. Corpses littered the streets of the perfect world, guards and raiders alike. Julian spotted little Sahane, lying face down on the cold concrete ground. One hand clutched her handgun while the other still clutched her stomach and her eyes still showed the moisture of her final tears.

On another screen was Xavier, his body a burned wreck. One of the guards had hit him with a flamethrower as he stayed behind to help some of the remaining raiders escape. He had flailed as he was embroiled in flames, the bullets from his gun spraying wildly before he finally collapsed to the ground and died.

The battle had been chaotic, and Julian hadn’t been able to keep track of everyone. Victor had fallen, providing cover for Priscilla as they had tried to catch up to a group of fleeing students. Julian hadn’t seen what had become of Priscilla, but since he couldn’t find her, he was presuming the worse.

Scott was the other whom he’d lost track of, who had fled into a steel mill with Cyrus. Unlike his best friend, Scott had gotten caught before he’d reached the entrance. Scott had struggled with the guard and managed to use a knife he’d stashed in his belt to slit the man’s throat.

Julian had seen Scott turn in Cyrus’s direction when his friend had called out his name, but he had been tussling with the guard at the time. Once Cyrus had been held at gunpoint, Julian couldn’t tear his eyes away. He had heard Cyrus calling for him outside and could only watch as his friend was hit by the butt of a guard’s gun. Once Cyrus had lost his life, Julian had tried to find Scott again, to no avail.

Two other raiders from Xavier’s team had been captured by the black armored guards. The pair had struggled as they were led away and thrown into the back of a black van. They were driven a short distance until they reached a factory, one coated in dark red paint. Julian’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized it as one of the Disposal Zones.

Against his better judgment, Julian managed to hack into the camera system of the Disposal Zone. He watched as the pair were dragged away into a small white room where they were held for brief questioning. Their weapons and armor were stripped from them. Their hands were bound, and they were forced into a kneeling position. The guards shouted question after question at the pair, but neither one gave any answer. The silence earned both of them bruises on their faces and bodies from the guards. Finally, the guards had had enough of them both and dragged them from the room.

The two raiders were hauled around to the bottom floor of the factory. Julian watched with growing dread as the pair were placed onto a conveyor belt and laid flat, their hands and feet chained down on either side of them. Then the guards pulled the lever, and the conveyor belt began to move.

Julian watched the sight in disgust and horror. He had only heard of these machines before, but he had never seen one. They were the human disposal machines, the ones used for quick and efficient elimination of all those who were no longer useful to the perfect world.

Julian, much as he wanted to, could not turn away as the two unfortunate raiders drew closer to their deaths. The raiders squirmed and struggled against their bonds, shouting and screaming. As the large crushing steel blocks pounding down in a deadly rhythm came into view, another screen clicked on. It turned to the governor of the area, a tall, buff woman with a tight bun and a mole on her face. She had gathered all the students together from the dormitories for an emergency meeting. She smiled a sickening smile as she spoke to the students of the perfect world.

“Some of you may have heard a commotion last night, and we have brought you here today to tell you exactly what you need to know.”

Julian’s eyes were split between two screens: one showing the ugly governor and the other showing the demise of the raiders.

“Detainees from the Quarantine Dome managed to break out of their holding and caused trouble for some of our friendly guardsmen. Do not worry about it, children. Those responsible were quickly disposed of and can no longer harm you.”

Julian watched as the first raider was dragged underneath the giant steel pillar and saw her scream as it came down, ending her life. A giant, red and pink mess pulled apart by the steel crusher was all that remained of her.

“Rest assured that we will never allow such sick people to harm the rest of you. You are our special children and your destinies will always be protected.”

The second raider was dragged underneath the steel pillar. His scream was a terrible mix of fury, terror and sorrow. It was cut off abruptly as the giant device crushed him, taking away his life. He was destroyed, and all that was left of him was an unrecognizable pile of pink and red.

The governor of the perfect world looked at each of them, smiling to herself as if laughing at some joke that only she was aware of. “Our system of government, the perfect world, is the height of humanity’s achievement. This is the way life should be. This is the way it will always be.”

The remains of the two raiders were dumped off the conveyor belt into a giant steel barrel. Their crushed pink and red forms fell into the barrel and merged with all the other remains that had been created that day. Two bodies, unidentifiable and lost within the many. As the barrel was closed and taken away, Julian heard the governor end her speech with three final words:

“Forever and ever.”

Katalina Gerard is a lover of good stories, particularly of the fantasy variety. She is fond of letting her imagination run wild and thinking over the endless possibilities of what could be.

This is her first book.