The Normals | ✓

T W E N T Y - T H R E E

A R D E N

I'm ushered over to a group of people by the door of the hangar we arrived in, all of them unmasked, about my age, and wearing the same number on their shirts as me. What's with people and masks here?

As I wait for the group to do something, I look around for Arthemis. The people that had brought her out of the plane are still there, but she isn't. I wonder where she went.

I don't get much time to look for her though, because someone comes over and starts giving orders to my group. I bristle, not used to being pushed around, and follow the others out the door of the plane hangar.

Right after the door closes behind us, I become very aware of the silence in our group. The heavy doors block out all the sound of conversations and people milling around and we're left in a very quiet, very clean-looking hallway. "This way," the masked person leading us says, and we follow her to another part of the building.

As we walk, I notice that no other people join us. We pass a few open doorways, which I catch a glimpse of tired-looking people behind, but no one acknowledges us when we go by.

"Where is everyone?" I ask no one in particular.

Surprisingly, I get a response. "It's past curfew," the woman leading us says, never turning around to actually look at me. "That means everyone should be in their rooms for the night, with some exceptions."

We turn a corner and I catch a glimpse of someone peeking out of a room, but they disappear as soon as they see us. The masked woman doesn't seem to notice and pushes open a door in the hall that I didn't notice before. Ushering us inside, I notice that there are other people here, all dressed like us with a number on their shirts too.

"Alright, is this everyone?" the woman asks, stepping up to a platform at one side of the room. "Please everyone, take a seat."

Behind us, there are several rows of chairs, each row slightly higher than the last to ensure that everyone sitting gets a good view. I pick one in the middle of the group; a safe, unassuming spot. The woman waits for everyone to sit down, talking to a few other masked people nearby.

Once we're all settled down, she claps her hands together. "Okay! So I am going to be as clear as I can with this: you are at the Pacifica abnormis facility. Here, we are going to help you figure out where things went wrong and teach you how to make them right again."

I pinch the inside of my arm, sending a stab of pain through it. If I'm dreaming, I don't wake up.

"You're all here because something happened in your old home. Maybe you broke the rules. Maybe you got confused and fell behind. Whatever the reason, you're here to make sure that it doesn't happen again. You're an abnormis now. Welcome to your new home."

A murmur goes through the crowd. Someone behind me starts crying. However, all I feel is a slight feeling of surprise. Just stick to the rules, repeats in my head. Then you can go home.

"We're going to split you into groups based on your region and sector. Stay seated until your name is called and we will direct you to where you should go," someone else says, joining the woman on the platform. They begin calling out names, assigning the people called to different areas around the room. Once everyone is settled, a masked person -- I'm beginning to think they run this place -- joins each group.

"Cordillera, sector three?" One of them comes up to my group, holding a tablet and scrolling through it.

Someone in the group speaks up. "Well, I'm from there. I don't know about everyone else."

The guy looks over the group. "And the rest of you?" A few nods go around. "Good. Follow me, then."

As we follow the masked guy toward some seats at the back of the room, climbing up the nearest flight of stairs to reach them. As we climb, I look around. I don't recognize anyone, but they seem vaguely familiar in the sense that they all have the same look about them. Healthy, confident, strong. The look that suggests we were all brought up on the coast, working at the docks by the sea or with the trains bringing in shipments from farther inland. Why are they -- we -- here, then?

But then, as we start sitting down and I look closer, I start noticing things about each of them. A girl on the stairs trips, knocking into another girl in front of her. Instead of brushing it off, the second girl turns around and shoves her angrily, sending her stumbling into some chairs a few rows down. There's a boy near me that's taking up three chairs because he's lying down across them and refusing to move. There's the strange person I was in line behind earlier, whose gender I can't seem to figure out. And at least three people finish climbing the stairs and are severely out of breath.

Why didn't I ever notice this before?

The masked guy leading us goes to stand at the end of the row. He's holding a big bag in one hand which he sets on the ground and opens up. "You're each going to receive some clothes, toiletries, a backpack, and a few other things to make your stay here a little bit easier," he tells us. "I want you all to take one and pass the rest down."

The bag gets passed to the first person in my row, who takes a full-looking backpack from it and passes it on. I receive one too, and open it to find clothing, a toothbrush, a comb, some books, and other basic tools for living. It's certainly not what I'm used to but, my mind repeats to me, as long as I stick to the rules I can get out of here.

Once everyone has taken a backpack and the bag gets passed back to the end of the row, the masked guy speaks again. "I want everyone to locate the manual in your backpack. It should be in one of the side pockets." There's some rustling while everyone finds the folded up piece of paper. "This manual will help you a lot in the next few weeks. It has instructions, guidelines, and a map of the entire area so you know where to go. Open up your maps, everyone, and I will show you to your rooms."