The Harvested (The Permutation Archives Book 1)

  Permutation Archives 1:

  The Harvested

  By Kindra Sowder

  CHBB PUBLISHING

  #ONEHOUSEUNITED

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Text Copyright Kindra Sowder©2016

  All rights reserved

  Published by

  Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing. LLC

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead are entirely coincidental.

  Edited by Catherine Stovall

  Cover Art by Pretty AF Designs

  Formatted by Pretty A.F. Designs

  Dedicated to my husband who has always pushed me to keep writing, even if I don't believe in myself.

  “So spake the Godlike Power, and thus our Sire.”

  ‘Paradise Lost: Book 8.'

  John Milton

  Chapter 1

  Men and women stood a little taller in their homes, ears straining to hear the sound of imagined trucks. Hearts were racing as the smell of fear and sorrow wafted through the air. I felt fear more than anything, and sweat poured down my back in rivers—soaking my shirt as I stood pressed firmly to the door. From my position in my apartment, I could see the photo in my apartment of the Wall across from me. The Wall kept us all safe from the world beyond the border of the United States, but how much longer would that last? The war had taken so much from us, leaving our fates to a dictatorship that had changed drastically from person to person.

  I turned to face the door, pressing my hands against the grainy and unfinished wood. As I tried to see out of the peephole, my ears strained to hear any signs of life coming from the hallway, but the loud thud of my heartbeat ricocheting off my rib cage drowned out everything else.

  Thump, thump. Thump, thump. I was sure a similar sound could be heard in every other home across America. If it weren’t for my own racing heart, I probably could have heard my mother’s and sister’s heartbeats coming from behind me.

  My mother sat on the couch, shaking her legs in anticipation of what was to come. Her heels softly tapped on the blue, worn carpet as I listened. If only I could take away her terror and make it my own instead.

  “Mila, please sit. You’re so anxious I swear you’d claw through that door.”

  I shook my head.

  My mother, Horatia, was a kind woman with frayed nerves and delicate sensibilities. She had never raised her voice in the twenty-three years I had been alive. Not even when the pain of childbirth racked her body as she gave birth to my little sister Gaia without any medication or the comfort of a hospital. She was that kind of woman—soft, reserved, sensible, and strong. The old expression was as strong as an ox, and I agreed with that wholeheartedly. But she didn’t show her strength to others. Not like our extrovert of a father, who had passed away before my sister had even been born.

  My mother tried to raise me to be just like her, but I was resilient. I was the exact opposite of my mother. She wanted me to be a scientist like her, but I didn’t have that in mind. She was a brilliant geneticist who worked for the government and its officials and had been called an absolute genius on multiple occasions.

  My intellect had been compared to hers just as many times, but I also felt it was prudent to point out our physical differences. She was blonde, pale, and slender, with pale blue eyes like the ocean. I had mousy brown hair, but my skin was still as white as the winter snow. My eyes were as green as the grass growing outside on the apartment complex’s front lawn. Gaia shared many of the same features, but her eyes were the same cold steel blue and her hair the color of honey. She was reserved and delicate just like our mother, which was why I highly respected her in so many ways.

  Gaia paced back and forth on skinny legs, the snapping sound of her biting her fingernails echoed through the small space. I had to keep myself from turning around and shooting her a hard look. The irritation was par for the course with us. At least, that was what others had told us. There were only three years between my sister and me, but it felt like much less when I thought about how much we’d fought with each other over the years.

  There was an excellent reason for our nervousness, though. Today was the day when anyone who the government deemed to be different would be ripped from their homes without notice—no questions asked—as directed by President Emerson King. The scariest part was not knowing how or when they would take these people.

  The announcement had been made a week before while all of America was crowded around their television sets, waiting anxiously for any news that our government had to give us that day. It came on as an emergency broadcast. The loud beeping that accompanied a flashing red screen startled us out of our zombie-like stupor and sent our hearts into a flutter. Anything they considered important was always an emergency broadcast, and it was mandated we stop whatever we were doing to watch it.

  My friends stood behind me in our apartment as I sat cross-legged on the floor and picked at the threadbare carpet. My good friends, Julius and Cecilia, were behind me on the couch. Julius was leaning forward, elbows on his knees and eyes wide with distress. Cecilia, with her golden hair and crystal blue eyes, was speechless. I believe all of us were as the silence overwhelmed us, enveloping all our thoughts like cancer.

  Nero stood behind the couch, holding on to its wooden frame with a white-knuckled grip that I swore would snap the fragile wood. I could see the strain in his biceps, and his face was stern, brow furrowed in frustration. Nero was Julius’s younger brother, and the only feature they shared was their stark gray eyes that looked like storm clouds before a heavy rain.

  Cato sat in the armchair to my right, and as I looked at him, I saw his jaw clench. The veins popped up beneath his skin as his rage boiled beneath the surface—the vein in his forehead the most prominent of them all. The announcement ran through us like an electric shock. We were all immobilized by the words that blared from the speakers of the government issued television given so no one would ever miss a broadcast.

  Geneticists had recently discovered our next step in evolution. People with unusual abilities held it within them, and it was in the form of a genetic marker. The genetic marker could tell them who possessed these skills, and everyone must take part in testing. Anyone who didn’t cooperate would face the consequences. We all knew what that would mean— death or torture, or anything in between the two.

  A shiver ran down my spine and every muscle in my body tensed with apprehension. Anyone who had the marker would be sent to isolation for study, but even I knew that meant no contact with friends or family ever again. The pit that formed in my stomach told me there was a lot they had not said, but that was the way our society functioned. Officials gave the information they felt was necessary and nothing more.

  “What do you think this means?” Cecilia asked when she turned and looked at the rest of us with fear.

  “I don’t know,” Cato replied. And it was the only one she would receive.

  I had instantly felt like a caged, wild lab rat that wanted to hit the pleasure button but was too scared of being shocked. President King’s cold eyes didn’t reflect any hint of emotion while he gave his announcement. His face had shown no remorse over making the decision to send t
hose who were different away. It seemed as if he felt justified in his choice as he looked at the camera, his brown hair perfectly slicked back and his pristine navy blue suit pressed.

  Since when did fear justify our actions?

  I was pulled from my thoughts when I realized Gaia was still pacing back and forth. A large part of me wished she and my mother would go back home so I would no longer be bothered by their presence. That wasn’t typical for me. The stress of our situation was enough to send me into an internal tirade that I was trying to control and Gaia was about to wear a trench in my floor. I was already nervous enough from waiting for men in white suits to take some of my blood and possibly take me away. Her pacing and nail biting didn’t help, and neither did my mother’s jittery movements.

  According to the announcement, they wanted families together for testing, but they had not given a reason for the decision. Maybe they wanted all of the families’ blood samples taken together so it would be easier to trace the genetic link during their research. Only the government knew, but that was my suspicion.

  Our government’s rules and regulations were unpredictable. A person never knew if today were the day they would kick down the door for some brand new law that was broken that no one knew existed. You found out when locked up and they announced they wrote the new law that morning. King’s regime was entirely too unpredictable and controlling.

  Everything had changed one hundred years before, after the assassination of our president and the war that had followed. It began because there was need for a new order, and that was why the death of our leader happened in the first place. No one was happy about the direction our society trended toward, and they felt inclined to do something about it.

  After the assassination and the war, one solitary man had taken a step forward and claimed his role as president. It was as simple as that, and because we needed a leader, we willingly followed. With his leadership, the wall came up, there were no more wars, and we no longer had anything to fear.

  That was until five years ago when another assassination changed our way of life once again.

  President King became our spearhead, and we didn't do anything but bow to him with reverence. He told us that every law change, every arrest, and every execution was for the greater good, and we did nothing but believe it. As far as I knew, there wasn’t a single citizen that had any choice in the matter even if that proclamation was true.

  I turned away from the peephole and leaned against the door, letting my fingertips travel over the wood as I stood frozen. The grain of the wood felt odd against the backs of my arms— textured and rough. I crossed them over my chest to avoid the sensation just as I heard the sound of shutting car doors. Gaia ran to the window faster than I had ever seen her move. I was too petrified—frozen in place.

  My name is Mila Hunter and I had a secret that I had been hiding from my mother and sister. And everyone was about to know.

  Chapter 2

  Soon after the white van arrived, there was a knock on the door behind my back. I nearly jumped when I felt it vibrate through the door. My hand flew to my chest to still my erratic heart, and I pushed a breath out of my lungs to slow it. I wasn’t nervous. I was afraid. My secret would soon be out in the open with no way to hide it. I was one of those people King’s men were looking for, and everyone would know within the next twenty-four hours.

  I still couldn’t make my feet move no matter how much I willed my muscles to do so. I stood frozen in front of the door like a statue, stone-faced and petrified, except for the alarm running rampant through my veins. My arms remained crossed over my chest, and my eyes were wide with fear. I didn’t want to let them in, government mandated or not. My body screamed at me to walk away from the threshold and close myself off from them until they left. The danger of the situation was too much for me to bear.

  I slowly moved once I got the reassuring nod from my mother. Everything was going to be all right. The look in her eyes told me she was certain of it, but I didn’t believe her. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding as I turned and placed my hand on the doorknob. The steel was cold and slippery in my sweaty palm as I turned the handle and let them in. If it weren't required, they would’ve never made it to my side of the door.

  My hand couldn’t stop trembling as I shook our city official’s hand and he entered my home without a word uttered. Two men followed, dressed in crisp, white suits. The first man to cross the threshold introduced himself as Joshua Cranston, and his expression was as cold as it had been on television when he stood behind King with hands folded together in front of him. His stone gray eyes gave nothing away, but that could quickly change if you said the wrong thing. It seemed that all government officials had the same gaze. It held me there, and I felt nothing. Not even the life flowing through their veins was detectable in their stare. Not even when they moved.

  The only people who appeared to feel any emotions were those outside law enforcement and the government. Government officials and those in white suits were mindless drones, brainwashed into their daily duties. They only took orders. Nothing else. President King saw to that.

  I was about to close the door when a stark white shoe stopped me, pushing itself between the door and the jamb. I inched it open once more and let the last official inside. He moved with a formal stiffness that told me who he was. He looked to be my age, obviously interning, and just happened to be learning from the best. I knew that because he hadn't acquired the cold stare yet, just the movement. From the looks of him, learning the government stride took the least amount of time. His fresh face was clean-shaven, and hair was slightly unkempt which caused his bangs to fall over his eyes. It hid them from view perfectly. He was new like a shiny penny. He looked at me nervously, carrying a sparkling white case in his grasp that screamed threat.

  It had to be his first assignment as a brand new government official and, as an intern, the label was already affixed to his shiny new exterior. I knew there was something about him that I couldn't see, only sense. There had to have been something in him impressive enough for them to want him that I couldn't spy beneath the chatter of nerves and teeth. A part of me assumed he might be nervous because he would be looking into the eyes of people he would have to help condemn to a life of experimentation away from family and loved ones. That had to be it. I didn't want to believe that he was as cold as the rest of them, but a part of me knew that he was. Deep, deep down at least. Now, they just had to bring it out of him. Of course, this was all conjecture.

  He shakily moved to my dining room table and placed the case onto its weathered surface, making a ticking sound as plastic met wood. Once open, the inside lit up and illuminated every tool inside, each one looking more sinister than the last. His trembling hands began to steady as he laid out the tools he would need on the table, placing them in a perfect line in the perfect order. I shut the door with a small click and walked to stand beside my mother, who had risen from the couch to stand a short distance from the man.

  Joshua watched us all with rapt fascination as if watching caged animals at the zoo.

  The case of supplies looked daunting, and fear gripped me in a way it never had. Of course, I hadn’t had anything to fear besides my own lies until that moment. Watching the man pull another small device from the case, my mind began to race, and it all became too real. Getting caught was my biggest issue so taking the test was something I didn’t want to do, but since it was government mandated, I had no doubt in my mind that he would kill me if I didn’t cooperate. I couldn’t let that happen in front of my mother and little sister, so I would cooperate. There was just no other choice.

  “I will test the mother first. Then we’ll go from youngest to oldest. Do you all understand?” he questioned. His voice was weak and shaky but didn’t lose its edge. There was no hint of a personality in the way he spoke, but the shakiness in his voice did hint at his own morals. Listening to him obviously question our understanding of his orders did make him look as bad as t
he others. Like we were children.

  We all nodded.

  “Now please, line up in that order.”

  We did as instructed, not questioning it. No one wanted to disobey a government official when given a direct order. That could result in public floggings or other forms of corporal punishment. The stress of the situation as I watched the event unfold caused my control to waver, but only slightly.

  My secret, highly guarded and undisclosed, was the power of telekinesis. I had learned that it didn’t just mean moving visible objects. I could also move things I couldn’t see. Molecules and cells also bent to my will. I had come to realize that in a very painful way after what had happened with the family cat when I was a child, but I refused to think about that right then. I would not let myself get worked up over a memory. Not when the danger was here in front of me.

  The man put on white latex gloves and held his hand out to my mother. She reached out to him and he roughly grabbed her wrist—causing my mother to wince though she didn’t make a sound.

  “Please point with your index finger,” he requested. His voice became even sterner the farther he got into the process of taking our blood.

  It was just as I thought. They were bringing out whatever they sought from deep within him. That I could see without really having to look.

  Joshua moved behind him and took a small sheet of a translucent paper used to collect blood samples from the case. The paper pooled the blood in such a way that it could still absorb into the sheet, but be drawn out with a unique tool in the lab. I had learned of it in science class long ago, but was never taught what method or what tool they used to draw it out.

  My mother did as he instructed, and the man placed the device on the tip of her index finger, gently pushing it into her skin. He pressed a small button on the side of the cylinder, and with a snap, the needle popped out, pricking her skin with the same little sting I was about to feel for myself. My mother tensed and then relaxed as if it had never happened.