Prologue
(20 years ago)
Icy sheets of rain soak through Noah's only sweater and pair of jeans. Puddles form in seconds, turning to quicksand-like mud that fills his hole-ridden shoes. Today, Noah turns seventeen, an age that has at times seemed unlikely for him to reach. Usually, he'd be with the two people he loves most, sharing a piece of chocolate cake on the roof of the tall, less-guarded glass building. Instead, he's forced to stand amongst a claustrophobic crowd of a million people who smell of rot and onions, kept in place by Hunters: so-called law enforcers, who are the eyes and ears for the leaders. The Hunters arrest the innocent, team up with criminals, steal, beat and kill anyone in sight because to them, it is fun, as if it were a game.
Noah keeps his elbows pointed out, and his feet cemented to the ground as bodies push against him, each person either fighting for room or fighting to hide behind those bigger than themselves. The citizens drawn toward this gathering occupy the streets and empty places, pressing close to the glistening glass buildings, anxiously awaiting new laws to be announced.
A nimble hand slips into Noah's as his girlfriend reaches him through the crowd. She's always able to find Noah, even when he tries so hard to keep her away from these situations. The stress in Noah's chest grows thicker along with the air as he pulls Ophelia closer, kissing the top of her head, her hair pressed flat and made darker by the rain. She draws circles on the back of his hand, knowing that this time, it won't calm him down.
Three floating billboards move in front of the buildings, positioned to display three men in a way that forces the citizens' eyes toward them, even those who cower behind drawn curtains.
The most powerful leader of the three sits in the middle, the other two shying away, allowing him to hold the crowd with his presence. He smiles, his demeanor rehearsed and manipulated to make him seem pleasant, though, even if he wore a mask, it wouldn't stop his cruelty from showing. Eyes always give away a person's true nature.
No one cheers when they appear. A collective breath is drawn in as people try to stay silent and invisible. Before the leaders address the crowd, all eyes obediently move to watch as two Hunters drag a hooded man to the front of the crowd, placing him on a wooden pedestal for all to see.
The leader in the center, Boris, opens his mouth, the slightly amused smile hiding at the corner of his lips, only hinting at his cruelty. "As we all know just two days ago, one hundred people were banished into the trees for - threatening us, your beloved leaders..."
Everyone stares blankly at the hooded man whose hands are tied behind his back. His shirt is torn and bloody, chest shaking as he openly sobs in front of the crowd. It is true that one hundred people were banished into the trees, but everyone knows it was only for beginning to talk of voting new leaders into power - and although a change in leadership is necessary to the people's survival, they bite their tongues and pinch their lips, too scared to say anything.
"...Therefore he must accept the fate he brought upon himself," Boris says, his voice lost in the echo of a gunshot and the man's body splashing into a deep mud puddle. Ophelia turns into Noah as a woman screams, everyone in proximity begging her to stay quiet, to keep from running to her loved one. "What a shame," Boris clicks his tongue, acting as if he watched the man die. No one turns away, not even when a Hunter steps onto the pedestal where the man's blood is still fresh, his body not yet cold as they drag him away. The Hunter holds something - someone bundled in wet blankets.
"As we have done before every gathering, we shall take in an orphan who lost his mother at birth. Two-year-old Aron is to be brought up in the towers, raised in comfort and wealth," the leader to Boris's right explains.
The crowd forces applause, feeling only lament for the child and the life he will be trained for. However, Noah stays still, knowing this adoption is not out of kindness but rather for Boris's benefit. Before every gathering, a person is killed to show how easy it is for the leaders to win and the citizens to be disposed of, and to display their seeming benevolence, a child is adopted. However, in this case, this infant is rumored to be sired from an affair Boris had with a Hunter after his wife passed away. Once word got out about this mistake, the Hunter mysteriously vanished, and Aron was deemed to be the child chosen to be liberated from a life in the city.
Noah holds Ophelia tighter, terrified of what is to come - that he might fail to protect his only family. The leaders are trying to buy obedience with little things that will win the citizens cooperation. However, no one knows how long the leaders can put out small fires when they expect people to live in an overcrowded city where the ghostly hands of death steal you from your front porch. Where citizens starve and turn on the people they once loved. Where people are beginning to think death is better than life.
Boris folds his hands together as the child is taken inside, and the citizens' attention returns to him. "Today marks the tenth year of our survival from the toxic gas released from Mother Earth's soul. The tenth year of our perseverance, despite the loss of cities, our homes, and especially our loved ones who perished. It also marks the day I scoured the earth looking for any survivors, risking my life to save you. I brought people to this forest, cutting down only the trees necessary to build our haven where you made me your leader." Boris pauses, waiting for applause, gratitude - but still, the people remain silent, frozen in place. "We are survivors who have lived among each other in peace. Yet, I am afraid we may turn against one another one day, as all humankind tends to do." A pleased glint sparkles in his eyes. The two other leaders share a wary, sad look before turning back to the citizens, pretending not to be anxious.
"Noah?" Ophelia whispers, pulling on his sleeve, trying to meet his eyes, but Noah shakes his head slightly, knowing that anything they say among this crowd could be overheard and used against them.
"I bring you good news. Over the past couple of months, five towns have been built around the city, all separated from each other and from us by a thick wall of trees to ensure privacy. If people wish to travel to the city or other towns, they may use the one road that connects us all," Boris says.
"Privacy," Noah grunts as quietly as he can into Ophelia's ear, risking being overheard, "More like a way to keep us apart and prevent us from getting together quickly to overthrow the leaders."
"Four thousand chosen people will be sent to each town in five days. You will be informed by tonight," the leader to Boris's left says, addressing his hands rather than the audience.
The crowd erupts into murmurs, expressing their thoughts and concerns, some naive, some angry. Boris raises his hands, asking for silence. Only a small group fails to obey his order.
"The second piece of good news is that you will now have a chance to gain immunity from the unknowns who beat and kill innocent people." Boris purses his lips, blatantly acting as if those unknowns aren't his law enforcers, his Hunters. He's outwardly gloating that no one can or would dare to challenge him, not even his fellow leaders. "We will now have rankings and gangs will be formed. Anyone allowed to create or join. Anyone allowed to be on their own and not participate. Gangs will fight once a week both in the towns and city. Winning gangs will move up in the rankings. The top five gangs in each town and the top ten in the city will receive immunity, and extra food. I will give you one week to form your gangs and after that, the fights will begin. Choose wisely." Boris smiles as the screens fade to nothing and float away.
Noah watches as the Hunters holding shiny batons and large guns surround the crowd, shoving, herding people away from the towers. It reminds him of the way police dealt with protesters before they died from the treacherous gas catastrophe. Noah wasn't even eight yet when It happened. He can barely remember it, but the law enforcers and incompetent leadership lacked the skills to prevent the destruction of the world - to save their people. Today, nothing has changed.
The day death lay waste to the world, Mother earth was angry with the people, for they took everything from her, never caring to give anything in return. She gave them chance after chance to redeem themselves, but of course, they did nothing. In a moment of pure disgust and irritation, Mother Earth spread toxins through the air, sparing only what she had created, such as animals and trees. She suffocated the guilty, stalled engines, sent buildings to the ground and plunged the world into darkness. She killed almost eight billion people, the population dropping to fifty thousand in weeks, leaving the survivors to wish they had died like the rest.
The crowd begins to disperse except for a small group, the same group who failed to fall quiet when everyone else did. Suddenly they surge toward the Hunters, screaming in defiance. Gunshots echo off the buildings. Random people begin to fall.
"Noah!" Ophelia...
