Chapter Two and some

In a society where everything has been perfectly engineered, a young man's belief system is challenged when he meets a young girl, and he must decide if he can stand the risk of thinking for himself.

Chapter Two

Like every year before, the potluck lasted most of the day. Tyler stayed around long enough to fulfill his obligations without shaming his family before he wandered off. Nobody would notice him gone. The only person who would is Adam, and he hadn’t even bothered to show up to the Ceremony, let alone the potluck.

The air was warmer now that the sun rested in the peak of its journey. Tyler loosened his tie, leaving the ends to dangle as he walked toward the edge of the village, and into the forest. Up ahead a pong glinted under the sun, boasting cool waters that Tyler was tempted to enjoy. Instead, he shoved off his shoes and stuck his feet in it, squishing his toes into the rocks at the bottom.

Sitting down on the edge of the pond with a thump, Tyler looked around like he expected someone to pop out of a bush and tell him that it was all a joke. He didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to.

Tyler snorted. What a joke.

“Tyler!”

Without turning, he knew it was Clyde.

He waved a hand behind him, not bothering to turn around.

Clyde threw himself down beside Tyler, “What a f*****g day, huh? Not even one and already our f*****g lives have taken a turn for the f*****g worse.”

Clyde enjoys the work ‘f**k’ and exercises every opportunity to use it in a sentence.

“At least you got something easy.” Clyde told him through a yawn. “I have to build s**t for these fuckers.”

“Right.” Tyler snorted again, “At least you get to do something fun.”

“I’ll trade you.” Clyde offered, “I’d rather be inside the Library recording our stupid history rather than baking in the f*****g sun all goddamn day.”

The black letters floated into Tyler’s mind:

Historian.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad job, Tyler told himself. He’s good at it, he enjoys learning things about the past. It’s just that he didn’t pick it for himself. He hadn’t gotten a say.

“Sienna and Valarie are going to meet us in the Mill Warehouse at eleven tonight.” Clyde told him. “I’ve got a surprise for you all.”

“It’s not cherry bombs again, is it?” Tyler sighed. “The last time you brought a surprise we almost got caught.”

Clyde laughed, “No. It’s something better.”

“Seriously, Clyde,” Tyler warned, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Clyde shoved his shoulder against Tyler’s, “Don’t be such a f*****g p***y, Gage.”

 

 

*Missing the transition* 

 ***

It took all of Tyler’s willpower not to raise his voice when he spoke, “Where is he?”

Andrew frowned at his son, “It’s not like you to question things, Tyler.”

“Where. Is. He.”

“You are still our child, Tyler, Job or not. You can ask questions, but that doesn’t mean we have to answer them. We’re still the adults here.”

Tyler clenched his fists on his thighs, and ground his teeth, striving for patience, “Adam hasn’t been home for two days. I find that rather odd.”

“People go missing all the time, Tyler.” Veronica said with a passivity that made Tyler want to throw something very hard.

“That’s your son.” He hissed. “He could be bleeding somewhere in the forest, and all you can say is that people go missing?”

“Tyler. Tone.” Andrew chastised in warning.

Tyler stood so fast that the chair clattered to the floor, “This is ridiculous. Adam is missing and neither of you care! He’s fourteen years old, d****t, he can’t survive on his own out there!”

“He’s not alone.” Andrew said quietly, dismissing the angry look his wife shot his way.

“What does that mean? You know where he is?” Tyler frowned at his father.

“Yes-“

“Andrew. No.”

“He has the right to now, Ronnie. It’s his baby brother.” Andrew sighed, scrubbing a tan hand down his face.

“Where is he?” Tyler demanded, cutting his mother off before she could dissuade Andrew from speaking again.

“He’s joined the Rebellion, Tyler. He’s run away.”

 

 

Tyler stood across from his parents, trying to catch his breath. They’re lying, his mind screamed. Adam was just out. He would be back. Tyler rubbed at a spot on his chest, where a spastic pain had formed.

Tyler shook his head, trying to clear the insistent buzzing. “What are you talking about? Adam would never do something like that.”

“He most certainly would. Ungrateful.” Veronica declared.

“Ronnie.” Andrew sighed again. “Tyler, we didn’t want to upset you so close to the Ceremony.”

“Screw the Ceremony!” Tyler spat. “I have to go find Adam.” Tyler whirled around and dashed towards the front door. All he could see was his brothers’ face, his rounded cheeks and his trusting blue eyes. He wouldn’t survive in the Rebellion. His innocence wouldn’t make it.

“Tyler!” Veronica grabbed his arm. “He’s gone. He left on his own accord; let him stay gone.”

Tyler looked down at his mother; heart shaped face, thin lips, button nose. Nobody would suspect she was colder than the tundra of the North. Until you look at her eyes. Cold, hard, blue. Tyler jerked out of her grasp, ignoring the pain when her nails raked his skin. “You’re despicable.”

He pushed out of the house and through the square. Tyler had no idea where to start, just that he needed to find his brother.

 

He went to his brothers normal hang outs. He checked the Game Hall, the School and the Library. He checked the lakes and the swimming holes. He stood at the edge of the abandoned warehouses on the outskirts of the town and shouted his brother’s name, hoping that his cherub face would appear in one of the broken windows, a big goofy smile on his face.

He didn’t.

Tyler stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned his back on the warehouses, angling back towards town. He couldn’t be gone. Maybe he should check the Library again; Adam could always be found hidden deep inside, a hundred books scattered all around him as he tried to read from them all at once.

He had to be somewhere.

Tyler looked over his shoulder, past the warehouses, past the fences and the farmers’ fields towards the mountains. No smoke remained from their fires this morning, no signs of obvious life greeted him. But his brother might be there. His sweet-faced, baby brother…

Without thinking it through, Tyler threw himself back around and took off at a jog through the skeletal remains of the city, towards the Rebellion.

***

Tyler swiped sweat off his forehead, pushing through the heavy trees and bushes towards the sounds of life a few yards ahead. He didn’t pause to give himself a few minutes to piece together something to say; to his brother or to those who stood between them. He just picked up his pace and finally broke through the last of the forest, emerging behind a large building made of roughly cut, multicolored stones.

Without conscious thought, he reached out to run his fingers along the stones as he passed behind it. They were cold, the stones, despite the heavy air that threatened to drown Tyler. He resisted the urge to press his face against the cold.

Instead, he shook his sweaty hair back and rounded the building with a determined frown.

The frown slipped, and his jaw dropped.

Whatever he’d expected " this was not it.

Brightly colored buildings spread out in a circle, luscious flowers that scented the air with their bold fragrances, and screaming children ran around in circles, chasing each other.

Tyler took several deep breaths; The System decreed flowers to be a waste of time. They were not edible, and therefore had no purpose. But Tyler had always found them beautiful.

The children tumbled over each other in their haste, though Tyler could see no obvious reason for their screaming and scurrying. Then he noticed their toothy grins and realized that they were running and screaming with laughter, not panic. They ran because they could, they were loud because it was allowed.

Tyler watched them for a minute, absorbing in the absolute freedom of the act and ignored the tugging feeling of jealousy in his stomach.

He turned back to the buildings. They were magnificent. Nothing like the simple, vaguely square shaped buildings of the Town. These were big, and bold and stacked in ways that should have been impossible. The colorful bricks looked like glass, shimmering in the sun. They were several rows deep, three or so, and Tyler noticed that they had only one thing in common. The rocks. Other than that, they were as different as snowflakes. They had gardens and flowers and paths and benches and flags and signs; they expressed the personality of those who live in them.

It was magnificent.

Cautiously, one step at a time, Tyler moved farther into the center of activity. There was a delicious smell of something being cooked, and deep laughter of men followed by a chorus of female voices. More children ran around, screaming at the top of their lungs " the adults didn’t seem to mind.

Peeking around a corner of a house, Tyler observed the Rebellion as they moved about, talking and laughing without restriction.

People touched one another, clapped each other on the back. Kisses and hugs were given out like wishes and when a child dropped something purple and sticky on the hem of a woman’s white skirt, she reached down for him with a chuckle, before nuzzling his rounded belly.

 “Can I help you?” A female voice asked from behind him suddenly.

Tyler jerked around, his eyes wide, his heart racing at being caught. “I, uh…I’m just…”

“Watching them?” Supplied the red-haired girl. She blinked large gray eyes at him, her hands tucked into the pockets of the loose blue dress she wore. It exposed her arms, and shoulders, and a good deal of leg. Tyler blushed furiously, and nodded. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Who?”

“My brother. Adam.”

She looked over his shoulder, not at the people, more like into her own mind; like she was trying to match a face to the name. “Chubby face, sweet eyes, likes to read?”

Tyler’s heart constricted at her words. So it was true. “Yes.” He breathed.

“He’s here somewhere. Would you like me to get him for you?” She asked, watching him curiously.

Tyler shook his head. “No….I’m just going to go.”

“You look kinda pale. Are you ok?” Fine, dark brows creased as she watched him slowly move around her.

Tyler stopped, looked over his shoulder and shook his head. “No.” And then he walked back to the Town with his head down and his heart in his throat.

 

His parents were in bed by the time he got home. They’d left a note on the table, but Tyler passed through the kitchen without looking at it. He shuffled up the stairs, down the hallway, and collapsed on his bed. His mind was full of his brother, images of him as a child, of them growing up, when he remembered that he was supposed to meet Clyde and Valarie and Sienna at the Mill Warehouse.

The clock declared it to be half past eleven. He was late. Tyler debated staying in bed, but he shoved up and was out of the house before his mind could decide.

 

“Dude, you’re late.” Clyde punched him in the arm, the gesture looked friendly, but there was a stinging pain when knuckles met skin.

“I had something to take care of.” He replied, moving farther into the Warehouse.

Two shadows dislodged from the rest, moving towards them quickly.

“We thought you were one of the adults coming to ruin our fun.” Said the blonde one, Valarie, her bee stung lips in what was supposed to be a seductive pout. At any other time, Tyler would have responded. He just grunted and moved past her and the ebony haired girl at her side, Sienna.

“Well, we waited for you before we started with the fun.” Clyde told him, rubbing his hands together and he walked backwards farther into the Warehouse.

The moved through the dark rooms easily. They’d been here many, many times.

A rusty set of spiral steps led them to the next floor, where Clyde had hidden whatever lunatic thing he’d brought this time.

“Ta-da!” Clyde exclaimed, holding a bottle of dark liquid by the neck. He waved it at them. “It’s whiskey. Confiscated a few years ago from a Rebel. I found it in the Taken shed behind the Library.”

 “What if somebody notices it’s gone?” Sienna asked, her dark eyes frowning at the bottle.

“Don’t be stupid, Sienna.” Clyde sighed, “I’m not new at this.”

Valarie rubbed her pale hands together, “Yummy!”

“You’ve had whiskey before?” Tyler asked without much interest.

She shrugged, “No, but I’ve read about it. It’s made from corn. Should taste good.”

It didn’t. But they drank it anyways, passing it between them, trying hard not to show any reaction other than pleasure at the taste. 

Reviews

[J.A. Marquez]

So I didn't read every word, but I skimmed and got the gist of the story. I did this because right from ths start I could see that you have a readable style, but I don't have time to read a whole story as I have little ones to look after. Anyhow, I have only one suggestion. I like the story. It's relevant and the world, characters, etc. are original. Just be careful not to mirror another story too closely. At first it sounded very much like The Giver. Maybe rename the choosing ceremony as that is a very overused term in dystopian books. Not to say your story is the same as another, but be careful about terminology so it isn't such an easy assumption to make.