It's the year 2038 and a deadly virus has consumed the world for more than 14 years.
In Denmark, an unknown politician took it upon himself to create a safe space from the infected. As long as you abide by the 8 Obligations, you are allowed to live...
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Sweat trickles down my face as I keep running. Running for my life. I can hear the growls getting closer behind me. Faster - I must go faster. I try to increase my speed, but it's like my legs won't oblige. The warm breath mixed with a stench of rotten meat hits me as they catch up to me. I know I'm done for. A few seconds later a feel the agony as sharp teeth pierce through my skin on the back of my neck... I scream as I fall to the ground. And keep falling. And falling.
"Hey! Wake up!" A voice is yelling, and someone is shaking me. I scream as I sit up abruptly.
The fear has its grip locked onto me and I can barely breathe. I want to ask where I am and who he is, but as I open my mouth, no words come out. instead, I start to cry. And not the pretty kind. No, full on crying and hitching for breath with snot running down my face.
"It's okay. You are safe now."
When I feel the skin-on-skin contact as the person strokes my arm to comfort me, I instantly jump away.
"Easy... I'm not going to hurt you..."
"You aren't wearing gloves! You could be contagious!"
Suddenly he starts to laugh so wholeheartedly that its almost affecting me. It is the purest sound I have ever heard. As I get to look at him more closely, he takes my breath away. He is stunning. Blond, strong, and with the most beautiful eyes. One brown, one blue.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you. It's just... Gloves? Like for real? It seems kind of ridicules. I mean, what good should gloves do? Bacteria can just as easily be on gloves as on fingers, so if people are wearing gloves constantly, they aren't the least bit safer than the people who doesn't wear gloves."
It's the exact same thing, I have been wondering about for years. I told my father once, that gloves only work if they change them multiple times a day, but he insisted that the material they used were antibacterial.
"I... I guess you are right..." I sit back down on the bed. But I'm still keeping my distance to him. I don't know who he is.
"My name is Jace." He extends his hand to me, and I just stare at it. Handshakes hasn't been used since I was a child. What kind of savage is he?
He shrugs slightly and pull back his hand. "What is your name?"
"Clary... um..." I decide it might not be the best idea to use my father's name. They might kill me if they find out I'm The Chancellor's daughter. So, I use my mother's maiden name instead. "Fairchild. Clary Fairchild."
"Nice to meet you, Clary Fairchild. Welcome to the resistance. Or what's left of it anyway." He stands up and gestures for me to follow. "Although, we don't do a lot of resisting anything anymore."
Slowly I begin to realize who they are. My father told me about them once. He called them fanatics. And conspiracists. He also told me that the Infected had killed them all. I guess daddy doesn't know as much as he thinks he does. I can't help but smile a bit about that.
