Rise Against the Faultless
Read Rise Against the Faultless Online
Authors: Melissa Hardaway
Rise
Against the Faultless
By
Melissa Hardaway
Rise Against the Faultless
by Melissa Hardaway
© 2014 by Melissa Hardaway. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic,
recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or
author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the
critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted
by the publisher or author.
Dedication
To Eric, even if you don’t
understand what mischief I’m up to
this
day, you always embrace it. To
Dad, thank you for being proud of me. To Mom, whose hope for me is never
encumbered by my limitations. To my little B’s, for being exactly what you are,
and making this world bright and beautiful. I love you all, always.
Table of Contents
I woke from my restless sleep
to the familiar sound of Larry Northcott, the news reporter, droning on about
the record low temperatures last week and how this is the 5475
th
crime free day in the United States. To mark this special occasion, we would
be allowed one extra ration of snacks on Thursday of next week. Ordinarily,
this was a soothing sound to my ears, something that would tell me that this
day was going to start like the rest, and end like the rest and that I had
nothing to worry about. However, this was no ordinary day, and I knew that
Larry Northcott was a liar. I just wondered if he knew that. In fact, I
wondered how many of us at all knew it.
I threw my white standard issue
cotton sheets and blanket off of my bed and stared out of the window for a few
minutes. Some days just
look
cold. I felt a shiver inch its way up my
spine, even though the house was a steady 72 degrees year round.
I would give my entire week’s
allotment of breakfasts if I could have only five minutes of sleep. I knew
that bargaining wouldn’t do me any good, because time wasn’t really my problem
at all. For the past 17 days I hadn’t been able to sleep, not the good deep
sleep that brings alert days and a restful feeling, anyway. Closing my eyes
only brought on the images that would forever be seared into my memory. The red
headed girl’s face, full of horror. The boy’s cold, empty eyes.
My mother called me down for
breakfast. I had already thrown on my clothes and shoes and brushed through my
long dark brown hair. Since that day, she hasn’t asked any more questions, only
looks at me with a worried expression. Today’s breakfast is grits, imitation
eggs, and dry wheat toast. This is my least favorite breakfast. I force down
almost all of my gruel, nearly gagging, because Mom is staring at me, worried.
I don’t know what she’s worried about, though. Is it that she’s worried about
me, or worried that I will tell someone? What is she hiding? I avoid eye
contact with her, just as I have for the past 17 days.
I walked to the front entrance
of the house and scanned my PID. I called out my number when I saw my picture
from last month appear on the small screen. I noticed that I looked a bit more
tan last month than I do now that it’s getting colder and I’m spending less of
my time outside; especially, now that I fear what lies beyond my front door. I
didn’t mind my skin looking a little bit paler, although my blue eyes didn’t
stand out quite as much. I grabbed my heavy coat that was hanging beside the
door and pulled it on. The only difference between it and my mother’s was the
small marinara stain on the front beside the pocket. She had assured me that
we could cover it up with a patch of cloth or a pin, but appearances never
mattered as much to me as they did to her. “I’ll see you after school! I love
you.” Mom called out behind me as I opened the large front door. I didn’t
respond.
I stepped outside to wait on
Dale. I hadn’t even heard him upstairs this morning. He couldn’t afford one
more reprimand for tardiness at school, but the speed at which he could get
ready and inhale the distasteful fare always impressed me, so I didn’t worry
about him today. There was still plenty of time.
The cold outside was bitter,
but it was better than the unstable environment inside. The bus would be here
at 7:24 AM on the dot. Dale still had seven minutes to get down here. I peered
down my street. This street never seemed so daunting before, but now all I can
think about is what evil might be hiding in the shadows between the houses or
the woods just beyond our yard.
It helped to be around Dale. He
made things seem as if they were almost normal with his big trusting dark green
eyes and his still childish ways. He came bounding down the steps of our porch,
nearly tripping over his own feet. It was a good thing Dad had salted the
stairs before he left this morning. I almost never woke in time to see Dad
before he left for work, but sometimes he would leave us little notes or an
extra slice of imitation bacon that he didn’t finish from his breakfast.
I swear Dale had grown an
entire foot in the last month. I tousled his light brown hair as he swatted at
my hand with a big toothy grin. He looked down the street making sure that the
bus hadn’t seen his older sister’s show of affection. He was getting to an age
where he didn’t want to be seen as a little kid anymore. He turned twelve this
past February, but in his mind he was as old as my seventeen years.
The bus pulled up right on
schedule. Dale got on first, scanned his PID , and recited his number. He went
to his assigned seat, which was unfortunately across from Dione Wilkerson.
Dione seemed to me to be a budding sociopath. He thought of torturing others
as an entertaining pastime. After I scanned in, I walked to my seat which was
five rows behind Dale’s. On the way, Dione thought it would be funny to call
out “Grime lover!” Some of Dione’s lackeys thought it was hilarious. I heard
snickers from a few of the others on the bus. He was the least of my problems
right now.
I spotted Lo and her bothered
scowl. I slid in the seat next to her. She was shooting daggers through her
eyes at the bullies. “I don’t know why you let him act like that to you, Rai. You
know you could beat him to a pulp.” Lo and I had been best friends since we
were five years old. We met at school and she says that I was mean to her and
that she went home and cried every day. I still maintain that I don’t remember
that at all. Anyway, we were paired up for a project together and we’ve been
inseparable ever since. Luckily for us, Lo lived two streets down from me,
within the allowable walking distance.
I shrugged her concerns aside,
though I knew she was right, I could beat him to a pulp. Lo and I both excelled
at combat. She and I had ranked within the top five in our level every year
since we began school. We had only had to spar each other a few times, but we
held no grudges over it. What we liked best was when we were a pair. We were
pretty much unstoppable. Lo’s strong suit was the bow. I’ve never seen anyone
with more aptitude for it. Mine was knives. Of course, in our levels and below,
real knives weren’t used for sparring.
Anyway, beating Dione to a pulp
wouldn’t stop him. It’s possible he would enjoy it. He’s all about power. The
only thing I had to worry about with him was making sure that he didn’t mess
with Dale. One day after school, I had gone to meet Dale to wait for the bus.
His cheeks were wet with tears and his face was red. It took some coaxing to
get him to tell me what had happened. Dione and his friends had surrounded Dale
after lunch. He had pushed him down and rubbed his face in the dirt. It was
just days after I had stood up to Dione for spitting on the janitor.
People with jobs like the
janitor’s were nicknamed “Grime.” They had failed to comply with the
government’s mandatory requirements for job security, and were therefore given
less than desirable positions. Looking at my little brother, so obviously hurt
and embarrassed, I snapped. I found Dione, and making sure there were no
monitors around to see me, I shoved him against the concrete wall of the school
just out of range of the cameras and held him by his throat there while jabbing
my thumb under his left ribs until tears came to his eyes. “Now, you will
never
look in Dale’s direction again, or I will make sure everyone sees how you
squeal like a little girl and I don’t care what happens to me. Understood?” He
nodded and quickly wiped the tears from his face. Thankfully, that had worked
so far, but I knew a day would come when he and I would have to have a far
worse confrontation.
Lo looked at me for a minute
with a quizzical expression. “You haven’t been yourself. What’s going on with
you?” She always knew when something was up. Lo never had a problem with
bullies. Everyone loved her. I often wondered why she wanted to be my friend,
or even be seen with me in public. Lo was gorgeous. Her skin was a mocha color
and she had bright green eyes. Her silky black hair hung to the middle of her
back. She was beautiful without even trying. Lo was somewhat shy as well. Her
demeanor was always welcoming and sweet. I was pretty sure that all the boys in
our level had taken their turns having a crush on her. Even some in the level
before us, that is, before they had to leave.
“I guess I’m just nervous about
tonight.” I could tell by the way she looked at me that she didn’t believe me,
but she didn’t push the subject. She had a way of letting me get there on my
own. What she didn’t know was that I could never tell her, never tell anyone,
not after the way my mother reacted.