Accolade – Chapter Three

Gideon Lennox

Sector Three, Galatia

“Rise and shine, Mister Lennox,” a voice calls, drawing Gideon out of his sleep.

“What? Where am I?” Gideon demands as he sits up suddenly. He tries to swing himself out of the cot he is in, but finds himself strapped in at his wrists and ankles. He gives a half-hearted effort to free himself from the bindings. He sighs, knowing he can’t get himself free any time soon, at least not without something sharp.

“You’re on your way to Paradise,” the voice continues from a nearby speaker, which Gideon glares at.

“Paradise?” Gideon asks, only partially listening as he scans the whitewashed room around him. The room is almost entirely empty, save a tray on his right which has an array of medical gizmos and drugs. Along with the various tools are a syringe, which Gideon figures will serve as his sharp object. Sadly, no other pieces of equipment were sharp enough to cut himself loose.

“Yes, Paradise,” the voice answers after a brief pause, “Home of the Stalwart Project, congratulations on partaking in this monumental opportunity.”

“What happened?” Gideon asks. As he goes for the syringe, Gideon winces slightly as his bindings bite into the wrist he is reaching with.

“Your questions will be answered shortly,” the voice responds after another pause. Gideon then realizes the voice was probably one of those AIs that would be given only a handful of responses to a handful of questions. When they were asked something that they didn’t have a pre-written response for, the AIs would provide a vague response like the one he was just given.

“What is the Stalwart Program?” Gideon decides to continue asking questions to see what all he was allowed to know. He was curious to know about what was happening to him. As far as Gideon was concerned, he might as well keep the AI occupied as he busied himself with escaping. Gideon gives up on reaching for the syringe with his hand and resolves on trying to get it with his mouth. Straining against all of his bindings, he stretches his body, desperate for a chance to get free.

“The Stalwart Program was set in place two years ago as an effort to tame the wilds outside of civilization,” the AI answers, “By doing so, mankind might be able to retake the planet.”

“And why do we need to leave the Domes?” Gideon asks, briefly pausing from his attempts for the syringe. Gideon feels like he’s bobbing for apples, something he had learned he was very poor at from the various birthday parties he went to through the years. After quite a few attempts, the glass of the syringe finally finds itself between his teeth.

“Your questions will be answered shortly,” the AI answers.

“How shortly?” Gideon asks, dropping the syringe to his waiting hand from his mouth as he lays himself back down. He quickly begins breaking the threads of his bindings with the tip of the syringe.

“Your questions will be answered shortly.” the AI repeats.

“Why am I tied up?” Gideon inquires as he tests the weakened fabric on his wrist. When the cloth holds firm against his efforts, Gideon returns to breaking the individual threads of his bindings with his needle.

“For your safety,” the AI sounds.

“My safety?” Gideon asks, bemused. He tests the fabric again and manages to rip his arm free as quietly as possible. He then feverously sets to work on freeing his other hand.

“Yes, the journey to Paradise can often be treacherous,” the AI answers.

“How treacherous?” Gideon continues questioning the AI. He quickly frees his left hand and busies himself with untying his ankles.

“It is impossible to travel between compounds and cities without adequate transport.” the AI offers.

“What is it like? Like, what are the wilds like?” Gideon excitedly asks. He genuinely wanted to find out what it was like outside of the Dome. He wanted to discover if his dreams are at all accurate to the world beyond the walls. Seconds later, Gideon frees his feet and he swings them to the floor. To Gideon, the cold tiles underfoot feel a lot nicer than the bindings had. He quickly stands and makes his way toward the sole door leading into the room he is in.

“The wilds are an untamed land, set to be colonized by the Stalwarts.” the AI answers simply, filling Gideon with even more questions.

“What’s a Stalwart supposed to be anyways?” Gideon asks as he tests the handle on the door. Locked, but it was still worth a try, He thinks as he turns back the tray of tools. Browsing his selection, he wonders what he could use as an improvised screwdriver to remove the handle. He had never learned how to pick a lock, per se, but he did know how to take apart a door.

“A Stalwart is a capable young adult,” the AI begins in what seems to be some sort of speech, “They are unlike those they grew up with. They are, in one way or another, stronger, faster, smarter. Their strength is what made the Governor set them aside as Stalwarts. They are the strongest of humanity. Their purpose is to retake the wilds of the planet.”

“Good speech,” Gideon compliments the AI in a mocking tone as he chuckles. Clearly, the AI didn’t read my file, Gideon thinks as he leans against the cot he was in. Once again, he takes an inventory of everything on the tray. I’m a dangerous criminal now, after all. Gideon laughs aloud at the absurdity of his last thought.

Just a day ago he had been a law-abiding student. No, he wasn’t the best student—he made sure of that much—but he wasn’t one to break the rules. Now, he was marked as a criminal for doing who knows what.

Gideon had never questioned the government, he had always figured those who did were mentally unstable. Now that he had seen a glimpse of the dark side of the Coalition, Gideon found himself questioning everything he had once held as true. After a few beats, Gideon then asks a question that had been bothering him for a few minutes now, “How many other Stalwarts are there in this place called Paradise?”

“There are currently two hundred other youths in the Stalwart Program of Paradise. You will be the thirtieth member of a team that will be mobilized shortly.” the AI answers.

“Their team?” Gideon prods as he jerry-rigs a screwdriver out of the packaging for one of the various drugs. Gideon returns to the door and sets about unscrewing its handle.

“The Stalwart Program encourages teamwork to overcome the wilderness,” The AI begins, “Stalwarts are expected to complete all training activities as a coherent unit.”

“How long until we are sent into the wilds?” Gideon asks as he pops the first screw out of the door handle.

“The Stalwarts will be sent into the wilderness on the fourteenth of April at 18:00 hours,” The AI answers.

“Wait, what?” Gideon asks, stopping dead in his tracks. Before he had fallen asleep, it had been the thirteenth, and he was fairly certain that he had slept through the night. Concerned, he then asks the AI, “Isn’t today the fourteenth?”

“Yes,” The AI responds simply.

“So, I’m going to be sent out with the others in just a few hours?” Gideon asks in alarm. His fear causes him to have to slow down on unscrewing the remaining screw so he can steady his hands. He takes a deep breath and finishes off the screw, now focusing on silently removing the handle so he can escape.

“That is correct, Mister Lennox,” The AI replies.

“Won’t I get any training before I’m thrown out there?” Gideon demands as he silently sets the locking mechanism onto the hard tiles.

“That is correct,” The AI responds.

“Just a few hours of training, great. Not like my life depends on it,” Gideon complains as he removes the door’s latch and sets it next to the lock and handle. He smiles as he remembers the first time he took apart a door handle to get out of a locked room.

Gideon had been five when his dad had first shown him his way around a door, or more accurately, through a door. That lesson had been one of many where Gideon learned all of his dad’s tricks with common household objects. Ever since Gideon had gotten into high school, he hadn’t been able to spend much time with his father. His dad was at work nearly every day and into the night, he was almost never home. All he would tell Gideon was that the city needed him to do his job to keep everyone safe. Gideon was told his dad did maintenance all around the city. Because of his job, Gideon’s dad knew all the ins and outs of the city’s operation and would share interesting tidbits that he picked up on the job when he wasn’t asleep.

What Gideon was taught, he held on to. Every lesson his dad taught him he applied to his surroundings. From all the tricks his dad taught him, Gideon quickly became the best in class for all the hands-on projects his teachers threw at him. His career counselor told him that because of his skills, he would be admitted to one of the planet’s technical schools. His counselor would always tell him, ‘That’s just the start, the heavens are the limit for you!’ Gideon didn’t know why she said that ‘the heavens are the limit,’ when most everyone said ‘the sky’s the limit.’ However, he had always let it slide, ‘People are quirky,’ he’d tell himself.

Gideon eases the door open and slides out silently. Outside of his room, Gideon finds himself in a cramped corridor with all sorts of wires and pipes running alongside the perforated steel walkway. A host of blinking colorful lights illuminate the catwalk from beneath the floor panels and Gideon finds himself completely lost. Turning left, Gideon starts down the corridor, figuring he would stumble across something eventually.

After wandering for far too long, Gideon finds himself underneath a sign which read Maintenance and he slips through, unable to fight the urge to check out this particular room. He had passed several other rooms in his exploration of what he now believes is a Coalition hovercraft, one of the big ones he occasionally saw on the Founders’ Day celebration every Eighth of August.

“Can’t believe we are doing this again,” a voice resounds from down the narrow corridor Gideon is about to enter. The voice echoes off of the many metallic surfaces in the hovercraft. Gideon was surprised he could hear the comment above the constant hum of the engines. Gideon gently eases the door shut behind himself as he quickly searches for signs of whoever had spoken.

“Please, not this again,” comes a quiet plea from someone else.

Gideon continues down the corridor, assumedly away from the voices. He has to resist the temptation to eavesdrop, which was something he had always struggled with. After all, why would someone talk loud enough for others to hear, if they didn’t want everyone to know what they were saying?

“We are exiling children and telling them that they are soldiers!” the first voice continues with its protests, “And it’s all for what? Keeping the streets free of kids being kids?”

“You know we shouldn’t be having this conversation…” the second voice warns. Gideon stops at the base of a ladder and looks up to what appears to be daylight, pausing, he gives in to his urge to listen in on the duo which are somewhere behind him.

“Or what? They’ll send us out too?” the first voice demands.

“I don’t know what, Clo. I don’t ask questions,” the second voice responds after a thoughtful pause.

“Don’t you, ‘I don’t know, Clo,’ me,” the first voice who must belong to Clo promptly fires back. Judging by the tone of voice, Gideon imagines that Clo could have delivered her retort with a scornful look and hands on her hips. Gideon can’t help a slight grin from spreading across his face as he hears the other person struggle for a response.

“Well I- it’s just… it isn’t my place to know everything,” the second voice eventually pieces its response together.

Gideon flies up the ladder that leads between him and the daylight above. Once at the top, he hoists himself out of the opened service hatch and into an open cabin which is illuminated by several large windows along one wall.

“It doesn’t have to be your place for you to be curious, Jackson,” Clo chides, “Sometimes you just need to know some things.”

“You’ve said as much before…” the second voice which must belong to Jackson reminds Clo.

Gideon tunes out all the noises around him as he walks toward the windows as if he was in a trance. One step at a time he feels his eyes grow wider and wider as he takes in the outside world.

“It’s everything I dreamed it was,” Gideon whispers to himself, awestruck by the sight, he continues with a chuckle “I wonder how big those trees are up close…”

Gideon watches the forests race below him for several moments before he allows his eyes to wander to the white peaks of mountains along the horizon. The only landscapes he had ever seen like this were in pictures from old storybooks, Gideon finds himself speechless as he takes it all in for the first time. Strange straight scars in the treetops crisscross through the forest below, disappearing into the distance in every direction. Whatever the lines were, they had to of had a purpose. Before long, a blue river enters Gideon’s field of vision and he fixates on it. At peace, Gideon’s eyes follow the winding blue thread’s tail back to the mountains as far as he can track it.

Gideon begins walking toward the front of the ship, figuring he could figure out what was happening a lot easier there. The whole time, he refuses to take his eyes off of the beauty outside that he had been starved of for his entire life. The expanse of greenery below him goes on for what seems like forever, hemmed in only by the mountains that Gideon can only describe as majestic.

Gideon catches his breath as he realizes that he hadn’t even seen the sky before, and his eyes turn to the heavens. The sky holds a gentle aqua blue and whispers of white clouds dot the skies as far as Gideon can see. The sun shines with a slight green tint and Gideon presses his hand against the window to feel its warmth. Closing his eyes, Gideon smiles broadly as the familiar feeling of peace from his dreams fills him.

“I remember my first time,” a feminine voice says from behind Gideon after several moments, starling him. Gideon swings around and stares the intruder in the eyes as he contemplates whether he should talk, fight, or run. The intruder continues as she casually approaches the window next to Gideon, “It all looks so peaceful from up here,”

Gideon swallows a lump in his throat as he stutters, “W-who are you?”

“I am Commander Hayes, and this is my ship,” the woman, Commander Hayes, responds. She continues staring out at the world beyond the window absently for a few moments. Eventually, she chuckles and continues, “And you, Mister Lennox, are not supposed to be up here,”

“Well, I-uh,” Gideon starts, unsure of what he should say.

“Don’t worry about it, we have bigger matters to attend to.”

“Like what?”

“Your training,”

“Oh, right,” Gideon sighs as he remembers what the AI had said about the limited training he would receive.

“It isn’t that bad, you’ll pull through,” Hayes says as she taps Gideon’s shoulder encouragingly.

Gideon tries not to roll his eyes as he wonders if this woman had even seen the outside world up close like he was about to. No amount of encouragement could overcome Gideon’s fear that the beasts from beyond the Dome were as terrifying as those in his dreams. With all of the attention that his drawing attracted, Gideon found himself terrified. No weak attempt of telling himself the creatures weren’t as horrifying as the image could convince him otherwise. He was doomed.

He silently follows Commander Hayes as she leads him down a corridor that branches off from where they had been. Gideon had entertained the thought of making a run for it but decided it would be best if he made the most of his time here. He figured that he had no real chance of escaping the craft, so that meant his next best bet was to stay alive long enough for his next opportunity.

“Now, I know things don’t look so hot for you in your eyes, but I am here to help you all I can while you’re here,” Hayes tells Gideon in a hushed voice, losing her previous formality, “I want you to pull through, and to help keep the others alive, especially my daughter.”

Gideon looks to the Commander skeptically, his interest piqued. Why would a Coalition Commander have her daughter taken? He wonders, A nameless kid like me, sure, but the daughter of a Commander? Phew.

“Yes, my daughter is part of the program,” Hayes cedes, guiding Gideon into a brightly lit room which, like the rest of the ship, is lightly furnished. All Gideon can see is two chairs and a small table which is ladened with a large assortment of supplies. Hayes stops at the table and picks up a length of rope, “Now, let’s get to it,”

“Who is your daughter?” Gideon asks as he takes some rope of his own and slowly matches the Commander’s quick movements as she tangles the rope up in seemingly no pattern.

“You’ll know,” she says simply. Smiling, she holds up the tangle of rope she had made and announces, “This is a snare, it’s good for catching small game, almost useless for the bigger things out there though.”

“The bigger things?” Gideon asks, trying not to sound as scared as he truly was.

“From what I hear, you know what they look like,” Hayes says as she reaches over and straightens out Gideon’s rope, helping him finish his own snare. Once she rescues his attempt, she nods with a smile. After noting Gideon’s look of confusion and concern, she offers, “Want to watch me do it again?”

“Please,” Gideon says embarrassed. He had never been the best at tying knots. Even tying his shoes took him years to finally figure out, it wasn’t until intermediary school that he finally figured it out. He matches Hayes’ slower movements and smiles as the tangle of rope makes more sense this time around.

“You’re picked that up fast,” Hayes praises Gideon after he ties a snare on his own. Pausing, she continues weaving the rope in a different way, “How about this one?”

Gideon silently matches the Commander’s movements through several different knots. He can’t help but smile as he figures one knot after the other. Maybe I’ll be able to make it out there at this rate, He thinks confidently.

Accolade – Chapter Two

Maverick Gracian

Paradise, Galatia

“Congratulations, you have shown that you are capable young adults,” A recording wakes Maverick Gracian from another restless nights’ sleep.

“Why me?” Maverick whispers to himself in defeat. He looks over to a clock on the other side of the room and sees that it is five in the morning. He was getting tired of the early mornings and hoped against all hope that he would be able to rest soon. But, after three months of the early mornings, he was getting used to it.

“You are all unlike those you grew up with, you are, in one way or another, stronger, faster, smarter. Your strength is what made the governor set you all aside as Stalwarts, the strongest of humanity. Your purpose is to retake the wilds of the planet.” The recording continues, waking the barracks’ occupants for the final time.

They only had a few more hours behind the safety of Paradise’s walls. The recording goes on for a little while, telling of several more things, but Maverick couldn’t make out the words over everyone’s voices, which wasn’t uncommon. They didn’t care what the Coalition had to tell them. It was the Coalition that sent them here, this waypoint on their way to their certain deaths.

“Ah, shut up,” Maverick complains, throwing one of his boots at a nearby speaker. He swings his legs over the side of his bunk and hops down from the top bunk.

“Every stupid morning…” Tyson O’Connell complains, holding his pillow over his head to block out the same old Coalition anthem, which always follows the wakeup call.

“There we go,” Jake Hendrix says once the music shuts off, several minutes short of the full anthem. He stands from a wall panel he removed to cut the audio cables yet another time. Jake’s struggle against the early morning wakeup call had been going on since he had arrived. Every morning Jake would cut the wires, they would be fixed during the day, and then Jake would cut them again at lights out. Unfortunately, the base’s staff was quick to repair the cut wires, and other vandalized equipment.

“Mister Hendrix,” The Stalwart Project’s Director, Marissa Stone, says as she steps into the barracks, “Why do you have to do this every day?”

“Because I want to sleep, Warden,” Jake says simply, using the group’s nickname for the director as he replaces the wall panel. They had called her ‘Director’ up until Maveric joined them and nicknamed her ‘Warden.’ He leans up against the panel and continues, “On top of that, I just want to go home and be done with all this.”

“You know we can’t do that,” Director Stone chides, “You were sent here for a reason, we can’t just throw that away,”

“Why can’t we?” Jake mumbles, “We got thrown away,”

“What was that, Mister Hendrix?” Director Stone asks in a tone that told the group she had heard the comment and was very unhappy.

“Nothing, Warden,” Jake surrenders, knowing it was always best to just give in to the Director. Several kids in the past had stood up to the Director, and, as the story went, they were sent home. The thing was, none of those kids ever actually made it home. One way or another, something led to their disappearances.

“Good,” Director Stone smiles. Spinning on her heels, she continues stepping out of the barracks, “You are expected to complete an eight-mile run through the compound’s environment simulation before this afternoon. The final member of your team will be joining you today during lunch today.”

“What about breakfast?” Tyson asks, concern in his voice. Tyson is one of the kids who needed food about as often as he needed to breath, a real black hole for food whenever it was around.

“Find some in the sim,” The Director calls back mockingly. She had recently started using the group’s term ‘sim’ which was short for the endless simulations they were forced to go through, “We trained you to find food, put it to good use.”

“I hate that woman,” Maverick mutters once he is confident she is out of earshot, “That’ll be the only perk to being stuck outside of the wall, we’ll be far away from her.”

“You said it,” Sylvia Hayes calls from her corner of the barracks, Gideon watches her as she gracefully hops down from her top bunk.

Sylvia had reserved her bunk, along with the one below her to ensure that she could always monitor everything going on. Maverick suspected Sylvia also kept the bunk below her empty, so she didn’t have to be any closer to anyone else than she had to. Sylvia had ensured that she was an outsider, and she seemed to like it that way. She even concealed her last name from the others. Maverick was told that she revealed that her name was Sylvia a few months back, long after she had arrived. Why she kept so much to herself, Maverick couldn’t be sure, but he was happy she didn’t keep everything from him, as she did with the rest. He must have made a good impression in his first few days.

Some nights, when the lights in the barracks were out, people would start whispering. They would share their deepest fears, thoughts, and hopes, emboldened by the darkness and its anonymity. Most everyone agreed in those darkened discussions that Sylvia would be the best off outside of the wall. Something about her just made everyone feel like she would be better off than they were, they would also ramble on as the hours passed and usually would start talking about how Maverick and Sylvia ought to get together.

The first night Maverick heard them start in on that, he had listened carefully. After all, he was curious as to why they thought he and Sylvia should be a couple. At the end of it, he found himself torn. On the one hand, they were right, the two of them did get along better than all the rest in the compound. They seemed to be cut from the same cloth too, which made it even easier to get along with each other. But, on the other hand, Maverick wasn’t here to get into a relationship. He was here to learn to survive, and how to lead the others as best he could to keep them alive too. Survival was his mission, not frivolous emotions.

But they do have a point, The unshakable thought resurfaces in Maverick’s head, Sylvia and I would be a great match. Maverick shakes his head, trying to get the thought out of his head. He had known Sylvia for a while now, and he had to admit he was very impressed by everything she did. She could be dancing during their rare Friday night rec or be chugging the compound’s filthy brown tap water and look good doing it.

Maverick had resolved to just avoid looking at her after he had first overheard what everyone thought. No need to encourage gossip like Maverick falling for one of his teammates. The problem, however, was that no matter what he did, Sylvia still ended up being everywhere he looked. Occasionally Maverick would steal a glance in her direction, and she would sneak a glance back, they would both blush and sheepishly look away. Sylvia’s embarrassed grin which would peek through her dark, untamable bang always drove Maverick crazy. Someone always noticed, and that always resulted in another night of talks about he and Sylvia in the barracks after lights out.

“Alright love birds, we got business to attend to,” Meghan Capernaum taunts Maverick and Sylvia who quickly break their eye contact and get back to gathering their belongings to get ready before the day. Meghan proceeds to lead the way to their locker rooms, and everyone slowly follows her lead.

“Dude, you’ve gotta say something to her,” Jake whispers, elbowing Maverick as Sylvia steps out with a bundle of clothes under her arm, “We don’t have much longer here, so you have to make the most of it!”

“Or I could focus on what we should be doing,” Maverick counters, grabbing his toothbrush and starts heading for the doorway, “Besides, I don’t want to be on the Warden’s bad side.”

“She has a good side?” Jake asks jokingly as they round the corner out of their barracks into the open, humid air of Paradise.

“Well, I guess she has a less bad side,” Maverick offers with a shrug. He stops dead in his tracks and takes a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air, “You know man, this air definitely beats the air back at home. It’s actually fresh.”

“What are you talking about?” Jake asks, skeptically shaking his head, “You’re weird man. Real weird.”

“Come on, you’ve never just enjoyed the clean air?”

“Nope, air is air,”

“Nevermind then,” Maverick cedes, walking the rest of the way to the Stalwart locker room in silence.

Accolade – Chapter One

Gideon Lennox

Leburt, Galatia

Everyone dreams of leaving the protection of the Dome at least once. They literally dream of leaving the Dome. However, there is an unspoken rule that you are to never, ever, share your dream. Gideon Lennox had dreamt many times of the “other side” as some referred to it. Of course, they never spoke of the dreams, instead, it was just wishful thinking of finally getting out.

Because of this rule Gideon refused to mention the dreams to anyone. The only time Gideon had even heard a whisper of an “other side” dream, was a kid from his old neighborhood, he described a barren landscape where even plants couldn’t grow. He told the neighborhood kids that as he walked in his dream through the desert he found skeletons piled high. Gideon remembered shuddering at the thought of piles of the dead. That the next day, his parents told him the kid was dead.

Every one of Gideon’s dreams of the outside of the Dome were very different from the kid’s. Every night, Gideon dreams of forests teeming with trees which tower overhead as they reach for the sky. He finds himself alone in serene meadows with rolling hills and colorful, delicate wildflowers which sway gently in the warm breeze. Gideon wanders through abandoned cities that have been reclaimed by the wilderness around them as trees and foliage line the roadways and contribute to the city’s skyline. No matter where Gideon finds himself, he feels a calmness, he feels at peace, and he wonders why he would ever want to return to the ordered chaos of the Dome. After those thoughts pass through his head, the dream ends with unnatural shrieks and occasionally a flash of movement as some creature races in front of him. The misshapen creatures were always terrifying enough to wake him up to a cold sweat.

“Mister Lennox,” Gideon hears his professor’s voice, snapping him back to attention.

“Yes, sir?” Gideon asks, looking up.

“I asked you what caused the Inundation?”

Gideon pauses for a moment as he recalls the previous day’s lesson, rehearsing the key points in his head, The Inundation was, in a nutshell, the overrunning of civilization as humanity once knew it. Because of it, millions died, and those who survived could only do so under domes like ours, protected from the dangers of the outside world. We never were taught what these dangers are, maybe radiation from the nuclear bombs that decimated much of the world, no one knows for sure, it seems.

“Gid?” Maveric Marcel, Gideon’s best friend, prods, interruption his thought process.

“Well, back in 2170 animal testing had finally come back to bite mankind in the butt. The animals mutated and spread across the planet in a matter of months. No one could hold them off, those who managed to survive the blight built our domes.”

“Very good,” Professor Grayson applauds Gideon’s textbook answer. Closing his book, Grayson continues addressing the class, “Now, give me an exit note on why you think the ‘blight,’ as mister Lennox calls it, spread so quickly.”

Gideon looks down to his paper, a thousand reasons running through his head before his brain stops entirely. In front of him is a picture of what he had been seeing in his dreams for years. He had drawn it as his brain wandered in class. Up until that moment, he hadn’t put all of the brief images together to create one beast. Now that he saw it all together everything began to click, This must be one of the mutants that helped destroy everything! Gideon thinks excitedly. Its mangy fur, rat-like face and tail, and ape-ish arms send shivers down his spine. Behind the grotesque creature stand the remains of a large structure and nearly a hundred years’ worth of plant life.

Gideon shuffles through his backpack, looking for another sheet of paper since over half of this one was now devoted to a creature that appears to want his soul. Finding no extra paper, Gideon gives up and begins writing around the edges of his picture. Surely Professor Grayson wouldn’t mind, I’ve turned in a million assignments with doodles and drawings decorating every corner. In fact, he has told me on several occasions he likes them, Gideon thinks. As he writes, Gideon makes sure to include how the transport systems across the planet made for easy transmission of the mutated animals planetwide. Satisfied with that summation, he continued on to how birds also helped spread the virus that then led to the mutations of the animals everywhere.

Gideon finishes his short essay as the bell rings, making his way to the door, he hands over his paper. Just five more days until I was done with school and could begin my life, Gideon thinks as he steps out of the classroom into the hallway which is alive with the usual end of the year buzz.

•••••••••••••••

Gideon finds himself sitting in a cold metal chair in a damp room, a bag over his head and handcuffs tight against his wrists. He can feel the moisture in the air, and the heat of his breath quickly dissipate in the cold room. Gideon has been in here for a few hours after some men told him they were police and wanted to ask him some questions.

They had led Gideon to a large truck, put this smelly old bag over his head, and took him to wherever this place was. Gideon knew he was in a basement because they led down several flights of stairs—a feat for not being able to see where one is stepping. They led him through several corridors, and finally into this room. What do they want? Gideon thinks, still unable to slow his heart rate after all these hours, Maybe they want information on the disappearance of several of my friends last year, I don’t know much about that though… Suddenly the door to the room squeals open and Gideon listens to the intruder’s heavy footsteps and equally as heavy breathing followed by another set of much quieter set of feet.

“Do you know why you’re here mister Gideon Reagan Lennox?” The man with the heavy breathing inquires in a menacing voice, much like the police in cop shows who finally caught the villain they had been hunting their whole career.

“N-no, sir,” Gideon stammers, nervous.

“Agent Craig, the hood,” The heavy breathing man says. as he spoke, Gideon feels the bag getting pull away and he finally gets to see the whole room. The room is dark, and puddles of what he hopes is water dominate much of the floor space. The only light in the room is a lonely flickering fluorescent tube, its accompanying tube likely went out ages ago. Before Gideon sits a fat man whose face seems to be stuck in a look of contempt with a dash of sadness. Gideon begins turning to the other agent to see who he was when he fat man speaks again, “Don’t look at him, look at me. You’re the one in trouble, not him.”

“I’m in trouble? I’m sorry, what did I do?” Gideon asks, his mind racing for any even minor laws he might have broken.

“Is this yours?” The fat man shows Gideon the paper he had turned into Professor Grayson and sets it on the table between us.

“Yes…” Gideon looks at it, then at the fat man, wondering how a drawing could get him arrested, “How did you get that? And what does that have to do with all this?” Gideon motions to the handcuffs and points with his chin around the room.

“We monitor schools for students who make stuff like this, and everything else that threatens the state.”

“Threatens the state? How does a doodle do that?”

“You and I both know this is more than just a doodle,”

“What are you talking—”

“How do you know what a mutant looks like?”

“I don’t, it’s just a—”

“How do you know?” The fat man’s face grows a deep red, he looks ready to strangle someone, a look Gideon had only seen one other time, a few years back.

Gideon had only been fourteen the first time he got that look. He got it from a girl’s dad after bringing her home hours after curfew. Looking back, Gideon had some sympathy for the dad, but in the moment, he couldn’t understand why he didn’t buy our story. The school dance had finished on time, and everything had gone well. The girl–he distinctly remembers her name being Sarah—and Gideon had gotten some food right after the dance, and then headed right for her house. He had intended to avoid any negative conversations with her dad about anything. As far as Gideon was concerned, if the dad had nothing against him, then that was as close as he’d get to being liked by him. But that goal didn’t pan out.

The two were late because the district she lived in was behind barricades. Soldiers marched every which way, and they heard crashes in the distance. Of course, they were still young, so they hopped over the barricades and investigated. Remaining unseen, they scampered behind all the cover they could find. They could have made it to Sarah’s home, but they were both more interested in checking out what all the commotion was for. The two had watched as soldiers raided the district’s nuthouse, which was butted up against the wall of the Dome.

They had watched as the soldiers marched people out, some in patients’ garb, some in doctors’ uniforms, and then others in tattered rags unfit for a beggar. They were all lined up, and Gideon and Sarah watched as each person was talked to by a woman in black. Each person was handed a piece of paper. As each finished reading the note, their heads had dropped, and their expressions grew dark. Soldiers lined up opposite of them, their guns leaning against their shoulders.

Gideon and Sarah had been so intent on watching what was happening, that they hadn’t noticed a man come up behind them. Sarah screamed when he tapped her shoulder, but he had tried to calm them. He had been wearing one of the orange patient uniforms, he had a veteran insignia on this shoulder, and across his chest, Corridor 13 was printed in black. Gideon remembered how he had quickly told us ‘There’s more out there than what they tell you…’ the patient had started, Gideon remembers the patient had been fairly lucid, but he slipped as he continued, ‘Always more… cities. Kingdoms. Dragons. Beware the king. Watch for his troops. They came in the night… Goodbye Captain Gregory… good night…’ Gideon remembered those words vividly, and they still echoed through his mind most every day.

Of course, all the soldiers had heard Sarah scream, and they came running. He and Sarah were a few steps ahead, and managed to get away, voices calling for them from behind. After that, they returned to the other side of the barricades, and waited until the district was open again. Gideon had looked for Sarah the next day at school, but she wasn’t there. He had visited her house after school but found charred ruins where it once stood.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” Gideon starts, preparing to tell a truth he was sure would get me locked up.

“I’ve heard everything from desperate kids,” The fat man lights a cigarette as he leans back in a folding chair. Surprisingly it held his generous weight, but with every move he made, it squeals in protest. He takes a deep breath through his cigarette and releases the blueish cloud directly into Gideon’s face.

Gideon holds his breath, and feels his eyes water, as he struggles not to cough. He watches as the smoke gathers around the flickering light above him. Gideon takes a cautious breath once the smoke is out of his face, and starts, “That thing there comes from my dreams… I’ve had dreams of them for years now, this is the first time I’ve drawn one though. I—”

“You know what I think?” The fat man interrupts, he continues, clearly not wanting an answer, “I think you’ve been sneaking out of the Dome, seeing things you shouldn’t.”

“What? No, I’ve never—” Gideon starts to protest, he didn’t even know there was a way out of the city. Other than the military-run checkpoints, everything was supposed to be just about impenetrable.

“It’s really too bad too,” The fat man continues, once again raising his voice over Gideon’s, “Your teacher had good things to say about you, and your records show you could have been a shining citizen.”

“But I’ve done nothing wrong,”

“Sure, you have. You’ve seen more than you should have, that’s a crime kid.”

“Dreaming is a crime?”

“Sure, it is. Well, kid, your ‘dreams’ have made me miss my dinner date, and I would like to just get home now. So, just tell me, where have you been sneaking out, and who with?”

“No one! Honestly, they are just dreams.” Gideon whimpers, nearly begging. He bites his tongue as he tries to not ask how an angry fat man could get a date with anyone in the city.

“Kid, I really don’t have time for this,” The fat man mutters as he struggles out of his seat. He pulls out his gun, and spins its chamber threateningly as he continues, “It would be a shame if you didn’t tell us and you happened to not be able to go home today. Not say your goodbyes to your family. A shame, indeed.”

“What are you talking about?” Gideon demands, knowing he is being blackmailed, “I have never gone outside of the dome, much less with anyone else!”

“Enough,” A woman’s voice reverberates from a speaker, Gideon looks to the two-way mirror on his right, assuming the woman is behind it as she continues, “The Governor has requested mister Lennox be enrolled in the Stalwart Program. No further questioning the boy, agent.”

The fat man’s jaw muscles flex, and Gideon can see he is angered by the request. Nonetheless, he stands as silently as his generous figure allows, and wordlessly exits the room. Close behind, the one he called Agent Craig retreats as well. As the two exit, the light in the room is shut off. Gideon finds himself absolutely alone. He tries to stay awake, but after several hours of the darkest darkness he had ever been in, he can’t help but nod off.