Florent.

The speaker’s dry static blasted loud across our flat. The regular words greeted my ears as they had for the last 17 years of my life. “Defenders are here to protect, defend, and sustain until the golden age returns.” After the alma mater was stated, another round of boring propaganda was announced in an overly enthusiastic voice. Groaning, I rolled onto the floor out of bed and ran my hands through my hair. My older brother turned the receiver up in the kitchen. “Can you put it down a notch?” I snapped. I tugged my sweatshirt over my head and put my dark jean jacket on. My eyes lifted as I stumbled into the kitchen to greet my brother, Clay. “You should appreciate the protection our council gives us, Florent.” Clay’s thin auburn hair and light skin gleamed from his early morning shower. His appearance took an exact impression of my mother, or at least that’s what I had been told. I looked down into his hands and saw with disgust that he was polishing his rank badges. The three diamond-shaped pins shined to a blinding gleam. My eyes shifted to his arm, searching for our family insignia. It was supposed to be sewn on any piece of clothing. Lying on the sleeve was the symbol which kept Clay tied to me. Our family pin was dirty, hard to see on Clay’s uniform. The shame almost radiated from the pin, as if it were an icon of disgrace. Tearing my eyes from him, I found my bag on the floor and shoved two packs of rations and my information papers into the front pocket. “I might not be back for dinner,” I warned him. Clay laughed as though worrying about me was the last thing on his mind. Then again, it probably was. Just before I stepped out the door, his voice rang out. “Be respectful and remember Florent, serve the council.” Slamming the door, I stepped into the already crowded hallway. I reached my hand up to tear my rank badges off my chest and tossed them into my pocket. Compared to Clay, these badges felt dirty hanging on my shirt. I hardly ever wore them. Compound life wasn’t bad, but in truth, I hadn’t lived any other life so I wouldn’t know. Year 3,000 was the famed year when the earth’s surface was declared unlivable. After that, the world or what was left of the world tunneled underground and made a huge below-the-surface living facility. So here we are waiting until we can return to our beloved earth. The world hadn’t been that bad until about thirty years ago when our population had gotten too dense. That’s when the Rover Initiative began. Every six months they took 5,000 people and threw them out on the surface. It was supposed to be a great honor to die for “testing the earth’s surface.” But we all knew what was happening, we all knew no one would ever make it back. I walked under the fluorescent lights down the bland gray halls. I knew this path well: two flights up, three lefts, and finally two rights. I stopped in front of an old storage closet that was never used anymore. Reaching my hand up I rapped two short taps, one solid knock, and another short tap. The morse code for the letter F. “Florent, will you stop banging on the door and come in already?” Opening the door, I stepped inside the closet which wasn’t a closet anymore. The dim lights barely illuminated the room, but I recognized the space which I had spent most of my childhood. The oak desk sat on the left side of the room with laptops, devices, papers, and pens scattered across the top. Behind it on the floor was the small number of books and art supplies I had managed to steal and scavenge from my years in the compound. To the right were the storage bins where we kept our things and finally on the floor in the center of the room was a figure sitting on a cocoon of blankets. The boy was skinny but athletically built. He had tan skin and blue eyes which were perfectly set below a pair of dark eyebrows. I flicked the remainder of the lights on and whirled around the face of my best friend. Well, my only friend. “It’s testing day Caldwell, so we’ve got to get moving.” I ordered. Caldwell flashed his perfect smile and flicked his golden-brown hair away from his eyes. “Ok, then Florent. Don’t worry I won’t make us late.” He stood, gathered his cream sweater off the floor, and took the blue knapsack hanging on the wall. “Let’s go!” He announced. “Get your shoes.” I reminded…. “I have them on.” Looking down, I saw the bright red, old earth sneakers already on his feet. I eyed him suspiciously. Caldwell only slept in his shoes if he had been wandering around the complex at night. Doesn’t matter, I thought. He can choose what he wants to do. Caldwell had that freedom since he lived by himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a family the problem was he had too much family. His parents already had five kids when Caldwell was born. So, they kicked him out as soon as he was old enough to fend for himself. Eight people simply couldn’t live on one unit’s rations, and that was the truth of the matter. As we jogged down the tunnels Caldwell stopped every three seconds to say hi to people I had never seen. After helping two elderly people, greeting one mother, and giving a ration to four kids I had had enough. “Do you want to kiss a few babies on the way too?” I growled. “You got to keep up your connections when you're as popular as I am.” He replied. I rolled my eyes so hard they almost went inside my head. “C’mon” Caldwell tugged on my sleeve. “Somethings going on up there. I want to see.” Jogging up the hallway we saw a large crowd of people. Pushing our way to the front, I realized that they were doing a custody release. The government would detain members of society until they cooperated, and occasionally, they would finally release the prisoners. It looked like only a couple of people had made it out this time an old man, a middle-aged woman, and…………her. I stared at the young girl standing in the middle of the ring of citizens. Her golden honey-colored hair was short and thick. She had green eyes and a smattering of freckles across her elfish features. She looked the same as she had eight years ago, except taller. She was wearing a gray army surplus vest modified for her size, over a blue shirt and her black ripped cargo pants hung loosely around her. The tattooed number from her custody was printed on her wrist. I wanted to run away, and stay there staring, all at the same time. I hadn’t seen her since that night in the spring. Why was she here? Why was she released? Her piercing green eyes met mine. “Who is she?” Caldwell asked innocently… "Stay away from her. She shouldn’t have been released. She betrayed someone.” I said strictly. “Who did she betray?” I wheeled around looked Caldwell in the eyes and said “Me.

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