Caleb

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The bus was nothing like the busses that had taken him around Chicago. Large, with two levels, with air whirring from white boxes in the corners and boxes of food nailed to the wall in tiny fridges. There was no conductor, the entire bus was automated, and the windows could open and close.

Sitting close to the stairs leading up to the second floor, underneath a window that was partially open, Caleb tried to busy himself with the nearly 100-page handbook everyone had been given. It was made out of some sort of plastic, secured with circles of twine and glue, with a blue cover and black lettering. It made a certain fwish noise as he flipped the pages, trying unsuccessfully to concentrate on the slanted font. 

Giving up, he looked up, taking in the rest of his faction. Directly ahead of him were two Erudite twins, both of their heads bent over the same book, while their mother was occupied with the baby in her arms, sucking greedily on the canned milk they'd found in one of the fridges. Beside him was one of the elders, around maybe 70 years old, smoking out of a wide-open window and staring outside. He'd never seen her before, but then again, his circle of information had been small under Jeanine's rule. His first time seeing an Erudite child, clad in a cotton blue dress with gray lenses perched on her nose, was when his faction had been herded out by the men in black. Her school bag had been set against her back and she looked terrified, clutching a textbook in her arms like it was a lifesaver, hiding behind her parents as they were marched out. 

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