I feel as though I've been working on this story too long. I've rewritten parts so much that I can no longer tell if it is coherent. I would really appreciate feedback on this story. Have I missed informing the reader about anything? Do you have any major questions when the story has finished?
Let me know after you've read it.
***
The Adam and Eve Project
I don’t qualify for the Adam
and Eve Project. Bad knees, dry hair, an allergy to bee stings and
apparently, high cholesterol kept me out of contention. I’m definitely not the worst subject out
there, but I guess I’m not the best either.
I know the researchers could tell I wanted it . The nurse
who came in to tell me I didn’t qualify sounded genuinely apologetic. I guess
they don’t get too many applicants like me; nowadays you’re either healthy or
you’re not. I thought I was as fit as we come.
Apparently not.
I’m one of the President’s
Officers. I’ve read that my regiment used to be called ‘Police’ but we
haven’t distinguished different kinds of Officers in decades. The President has
a personal guard of Officers, his territories have Officers and the
territories’ towns have Officers, but we’re all disposable and can be replaced
by anyone on the roster, at any time. I think it’s because people get sick so
often.
That’s what got the President to agree to fund the Adam and
Eve Project, and, how I found out about it.
Adam and Eve is
the name of the project that is supposed to ‘save the human race’. It sounds
dramatic but it’s not. The idea is that Doctors would screen potential
parents and healthy offspring would be
catalogued and receive annual checkups to determine that they are still healthy
specimens. Their families would also
receive financial compensation to encourage healthy lifestyles; no smoking, no
drugs, no alcohol, healthy food etc. If you qualify, you even get an allowance
for food. You get a special card that only works in grocery stores so you can’t
spend the money on anything else. And of course, if you don’t follow the rules;
if you’re caught smoking, or your healthy kid gets a disease, you are no longer
part of the program and all the financial assistance and status goes away. The
idea was that these healthy children would start to repopulate our healthy
genetic gene pool. There were plans for large donations for an ‘Eve’-a daughter of the program- to marry
an ‘Adam’- a son of the program, etc.
but it was all based on willingness. The idea was to try and rebuild a healthy
human genome. Don’t get me wrong, I would have appreciated the food allowance,
but that’s not why I applied.
I had heard a rumour that there were men who qualified as
‘healthy’ for the program that had donated the necessary biological component to
impregnate single ‘healthy’ women for the project.
The term ‘single woman’ bothers me. I’m not single, I’m just
alone.
I had a husband. His name was Ben, and he was an Officer
too. We partnered together for years. I knew Ben always had my back and I
always had his. It was safe. But when I got pregnant and had to stay home on
leave Ben got a new partner; a young man named Steve. I don’t blame Steve, I
never did, but Ben’s loss was devastating. It tore a hole through me that
terminated our pregnancy. That’s why I don’t like ‘single’, because I’m not,
I’m married, Ben’s just not with me anymore. In my mind I’m still married, and
I miss my baby. A ‘donor’ seemed like the perfect solution, but I don’t
qualify.
Instead of mourning what could have been, I continued to
work and when a posting for an Officer opened up at the clinic where I had
applied, I rushed to take the job. I may not qualify for the project myself,
but I believe in Adam and Eve, and
even if I don’t qualify for the project, I could spend my time protecting the
few that do.
About a year into my service at the Clinic a few papers
started reporting on The Adam and Eve
Project and I don’t know where they got the sources for their articles, but
they got most of the facts wrong. These newspaper articles enraged several
groups in small towns throughout the territories. Some of the groups were upset
because they didn’t feel they got equal rights to apply to the program, others
were upset that their tax money was feeding other families, and others were
furious because they thought there was some kind of genetic manipulation and
invasion of human rights happening inside The
Project. This misunderstanding spurred man hunts for these families and the
Adam and Eve children. Parents were beaten and children were torn from their
families or, in very terrifying cases, murdered.
I remember sitting in the clinic at the end of one of my
shifts and watching the President’s speech. I was dressed in my civvies,
sitting in the clinic waiting room; my uniform was in the duffle bag at my
feet. The President was mesmerizing; his deep voice echoed through the clinic
pleading with the vigilante factions to stop the bloodshed. He explained in
simple terms how the project works, but I guess the factions weren’t listening.
A bullet shattered the waiting room windows and 3 guys; I
assume they were men, but one was slight and could have been a woman, wearing
Halloween masks, holding hunting rifles and hand guns stormed in. There’s
shouting and screaming all around and I’m the only person trained to function
in this kind of environment, and my uniform is hidden in my bag.
I listen to the intruders and get on the ground with the
rest of the civilians, but not before noting a few details. One man wears glasses
over his mask, another’s hand is shaking; I can hear the rifle shudder with his
nerves. He also has a hitch in his walk, presumably because of a bad knee. The
third man walks ahead of the others holding a Glock. The gun is well cared for
and doesn’t shake in his hand. He is used to wielding a firearm, and he’s the
leader of the party.
Suddenly I wish I was still in uniform. John, my counterpart
who’s working this shift is an older officer. He has a young son with a heart
condition. He’s experienced, but he’s on his rounds and could be
overcome by a surprise 3:1 attack.
I don’t know why these men are here, but I have a guess. I
need to get these men out of here before they hurt anyone.
With my head on the ground I hear one of the men shuffle
off. Shaky Rifle Hand is still pacing nearby, his bespectacled accomplice has
disappeared after the sure handed leader.
I know he’ll be back shortly after I make my move, so I prepare for
that.
My muscles pulse, ready for me to put them to work. When I
hear the rattling gun by my ear again I release the breath I’m holding and kick
out the back of Shaky Rifle Hand’s knees with my left leg. He falls with a
grunt and as he turns to me my fist collides with his jaw. I watched his eyes
glaze over as he fell backward onto the laminate flooring. I grabbed Shaky Hand’s
rifle and stood by the hallway waiting
for Glasses to come back in and investigate the noise. Just like I had
anticipated, he came rushing back in. His gun was up, but not directed toward anything
or anyone in particular. He moves slowly; he can barely see out of the mask.
Pushed up against the wall, I’m out of his view. I raise the rifle and strike
the back of his neck with the blunt end of the gun. He falls with a thud; his
glasses skid across the floor. I move quickly to relieve him of his firearm
before telling everyone in the waiting room to get out. Dozens of big round
eyes thank me as they run out the main doors.
Once the bystanders are moving I decide not to spend any more
energy on them, there’s still another man with a gun in the clinic who’s
searching for the parents and children I have promised to protect. I put the
rifle over my shoulder and hide the handgun at my side; it’s lighter than the
one I’m used to carrying.
I’m still dressed as a civilian and that instills little
confidence.
I clear everyone out I meet as I approach the Emergency
Delivery and Enviro Neonatal ward of the A&E wing. Their hasty footsteps
fade like rain back down the hallway.
I can hear shouting and screaming and pick up my pace a
little. I recognize Steve’s commanding voice; most Officers master that voice
after a few days on the job, I can’t hear every word he says but his voice is
steady. He’s with the Leader. I can hear him too; he’s anything but calm but
Steve’s trying to talk him down.
The voices grow loud again. Shouting, screaming and
culminating with a pair of gunshots. The hospital falls silent as the echoes of
the gunshots reverberated through the halls.
I hate the sounds a gun makes; that snap and bang with a
stinging echo, just reminds me how far humanity has fallen.
My heartbeat quickens as I round the corner. I raise my side
arm and open the door to my wing of
the hospital. Steve is nowhere in sight. Neither are any of the nursing staff.
Silently I hoped they followed procedure and hid everyone. So far it looks
promising.
The first thing I smell is gunpowder, even before I smell
the blood. It lingers thick on my tongue. It left a metallic taste in my mouth.
My stomach knots as I force myself into the next room; it goes against my
instincts to run toward danger- it’s the same every time.
I force myself around the last corner but I’m not prepared
for the sight in front of me. I don’t know what I was expecting. There was
blood everywhere and the room was silent; except for the steady tone on a heart
rate monitor. The gunshot echo in my memory and make me sick to my stomach. How far we have fallen.
My eyes lock on Steve’s first. Dull and unblinking, but his
skin is still warm when I reach for his wrist. There’s no one home.
The Leader lies nearby, his masked face lying to the side
the way no living creatures could.
Bodies litter the room- big bodies, little bodies and most
heartbreaking; bodies without names. These were my friends, people I worked
with and people whose lives I envied. And now they were all silent and still. This
was the life I wanted and it was bleeding out around me. I had seen them all
cry and laugh and had heard their first sounds. Now there was nothing.
I shed a few tears for Steve. And one for each of the faces
I saw; Erin, Angela, Dave, Monica, Carl, Alex and Carrie. Looking back at the
sad crooked creature bleeding on the floor, I shed a tear for it too.
Although
it was nothing more than an animal now, even animals who have lost their way
deserve pity.
I should have gotten here quicker and done more to try and
save them. But what more could I have actually done?
Alone in the quiet I wanted to cry, to scream, to throw my fist
through the wall- anything to distract me from the faces. But I’m suddenly too
tired for that. My shaking knees give
out and I fall to the floor. It takes a while for my ears to adjust to the
silence of the room. The steady tone of the heart rate monitor had somehow
blended with the silence. When I’ve finally calmed down enough for my breathing
to relax and the pounding in my head to subside I heard it; like a gasp in a
graveyard.
Shakily I force myself upright and follow the gasps around
one of the beds, where I found one of the nurses huddled on the ground trying
to breathe quietly.
“Sophie?” I call softly. She jumps at the sound of my voice
and I crouch in front of her so she can see my face. She’s been shot; she’s
pale and sweaty and contorts her face as she looks at me trying to get her eyes
to focus. When they finally co-operate her eyes hold mine for a moment before
she relaxes.
“Perfect.” She says. “It’s you.”
As her eyes roll to the back of her head I help her get
comfortable. She’d been huddled like a football player, but relaxed enough to
reveal a bundle under her body; about the size of a football, except warm and squishy,
squirming silently in her receiving blanket. Sophie’s eyes close as I reach for
the child. I toss away my firearms before I hold her. This being is too
innocent to be exposed to any more corruption.
On the ground, beside one of the beds, I hold her in my
arms. She snuggles into the curve of my chest. I have no idea how she had
survived the attack, how she could be so calm in that environment or how long I
sat there with her.
When I could finally bring myself to move, I noticed the
tiny plastic bracelet on her tiny wrist. Tears well in my eyes again and I kiss
the fuzz on the top of her head. Her name is Hope, and I can’t think of
anything more accurate.
***
What did you think?
-Brandolyn
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