Sequel: Obliques

Outliers

t·w o p·r o m i n e n c e

The sirens outside wake me up. Isa is still snuggled in the next bunk. I go by the window to see what’ happening. People are coming out of their halls. I shift my eyes over to the wall, staring at the ticking clock. It’s 5 in the morning. The sun isn’t in the sky yet. Even if it were, I wouldn’t see it through the thick grey clouds above. I shake Isa’s shoulder to get her out of bed. Quietly, we get dressed. I scoop up some water out of the pale bucket and hand the cup to Isa. She lifelessly gulps it down.

“We have to go,” I tell her.

“It’s the fourth time this week,” she sighs. “Why can’t they just leave us alone? I can’t watch anymore…”

My eyes drop to the wooden floor. I follow the rustic lines, thinking.

“Just zone it out,” I say.

I get up to my feet and Isa slowly follows. We go through the door and I lock it. I look at my exposed wristlet and quickly fix it under my sleeve. We walk down the dusty path to Piths. The sirens never go off. They only get louder. A little crippled boy is left on the stairs of a domicile. There’s another body hanging from a tree nearby. I look over to Isa before my stomach convulses.

“How far along?” I ask her.

I watch her hug herself from the cold breeze.

“I’m not sure, but I’m already starting to show.”

My shoulders stiffen when we reach the intersection. Everyone is forced to assemble and watch. I hear someone crying out. I look up and find the Sentries pulling in Miss Peterson. I imidiately push forward through the crowd.

“Miss Peterson!” I scream.

Isa hold on to my arm before I cross over too closely to the Sentries. I try to push her off me.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

“No! They can’t! They can’t!” I panic.

I don’t know what they want with Miss Peterson. They must know she’s from the city. I look around to all the girls and boys she’s helped over the years, and not a single one flinch to even help her. All heads are hanging low. I shake in utter fury.

“You can’t do anything Sage,” Isa whispers.

I freeze. That’s right. I can’t do anything. I pull my arm from her weak grip and stare her down.

“So, if that was me. You wouldn’t do anything. Right? Because you can’t do anything, right?”

The Sentry begins to speak to the crowd. I draw my attention to a tied up Miss Peterson, crying. How can they punish her for helping us? The Sentry points a gun to her head.

“Stop!” I yell out.

The Sentries and every other eye lift towards me. I nervously look around and try to find the words. I take a step to the middle of the road. I watch Miss Peterson shake her head. A trail of blood escapes her forehead.

“You can’t kill her. She’s got children in the city. I-if you kill her, they will be motherless. A-and there would be an unbalance in the city.”

The Sentries just stare at me, wondering how I even managed to speak to them. No one speaks to the Sentries. But I hold a firm gaze, mustering the courage to confront them.

I keep speaking, “If you kill her, the Cygnus won’t be pleased with you.”

“She’s broken the law—”

“Is there really a law prohibiting people to help one another?” I shout. “If there is such a law, show it to me!”

I can’t seem to control my anger, but my tone upsets the men in uniforms. One of them signals to the others to capture me. No longer afraid, I let them take me. They push me down on my knees next to Miss Peterson.

“Sage…” she whimpers.

“Two executions in one day. How convenient,” the vile Sentry with the gun says.

He points the gun to me. My vision blurs with tears, which I refuse to let fall. I shut my eyes tight and listen to the buzzing of the Sentry’s firearm.

“Well, show it to her.”

I hear the deep voice spring up and open my eyes. The Sentry lowers his gun. Everyone turn their heads toward the voice. There is a pause in the air.

The Sentry looks taken aback by the personality approaching. I try to clear my eyes to see who it is that stopped the men.

One Sentry whispers to another, “It’s the Eminence’s son. What’s he doing here?”

This young man walks closer towards us. The guards straighten up.

He says again, “Aren’t you going to show her? She asked to see the law that says people couldn’t help each other.”

“She’s disrespected authority, my lord.”

Lord? Eminence?

“I think that was called for,” he smirks.

Then he looks down to me. He’s a Perfect. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one up close in person. They only appear on TV. His wavy lush chestnut hair is combed back, not a single strand out of place. His skin is pearlescent honey and his eyes shimmer as opal. He then looks back to the guards standing stiffly in front of him.

“They’re free to go,” he says.

The Sentries bow and nervously orders everyone to go back in our domiciles. Though Miss Peterson has left, I stay on my knees. I grip the fabric of my garment. I don’t know if I am still angry or relieved that I’ve been spared. I watch the fine black boots approach me. I force myself to look up. The man who saved me stands there, lending me a hand. Hesitant, I take it and he helps me to my feet.

“Thank you,” I say.

“You act rashly,” he comments. He suddenly pulls my sleeve down, exposing my wristlet. I gasp, trying to tug away from his grip. But he holds my wrist tightly. “And rebelliously.”

I struggle and twist my arm to get him to let go of my arm. My anger takes over. No one is in the streets.

“Let me go.”

He looks side to side and sighs.

“I can’t do that just yet,” he says with a smirk.

I grimace, “What are you going to do? Kill me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Outlier. Why would I save you and want to kill you?” he laughs. He then yanks me away from the street.

“I don’t know. You Perfects are twisted.”

He glares at me, “You need to learn how to shut you mouth, Outlier.”

I try to keep as much distance from him, though he’s pulling me somewhere. We stop by the Port. In no time, there are more Sentries around. But, they look different than the ones I know. These people are from the city.

“Where are you taking me?” I look around.

“Belladonna.”

That’s the major city of Polaris. That’s where the Perfects are. He pushes me into the white ship that carries the flag of Belladonna. An orange hydrangea.

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A/N: Let me know what you think so far.

-ẍimone