The Parables

Aadem - Precinct Two

Aadem - Precinct Two

An ear-splitting commotion suddenly ricochets around him, emigrating from behind. Spinning around in his seat, he sees a plume of smoke, billowing out from amid the village. Sounds of petrified screams fill his ears and the odour of smoke mingled with the odour of dead carcasses slaps him in the face like a cane to the hands. His eyes widen with sickening dread. His mouth drops open. His hands tremble with trepidation. Billions of thoughts overwhelm his mind as he's slowly dragged away from the place he loves and the people he cares about. But now, there might not be anyone left that he cares about.

Gasping for air, my eyes open wide and I wriggle around in my seat, trying to break free of the seatbelt's grasp. Perspiration poisons my skin, horror torments my mind and my body quivers in fear. The mines. The explosion. Eefen. Thom. I close my eyes, taking deep breaths as I try to calm the adrenaline as it throbs around my body at the speed of a cheetah. I can still vividly envisage the explosion in the mines, despite the fact I wasn't there to witness it. Now, in one sense, I'm glad I am the Martyr. Else, a few hours ago, I would never have been able to see daylight again.

Sighing, I glance out of the window. Out yonder, I can faintly see the Precinct boundary fence, separating the Thicket from the Precinct. The barbed wire glints in the light of the sun, casting a mirrored shadow onto the grass beneath. I gaze at it, a small smile perched on the edge of my lips. Somehow, it is soothing, reminding me of the Prairie back home. One day, when I was younger, I ran the entire length of the boundary fence and ended up against a different fence. This one separated me from a large reservoir. In the very distance, I could make out the tips of a tall building, which I assumed belonged to The Commune. But, it may not have been The Commune. Very few people have been into The Commune and come out alive to talk about it. No one really knows where it is or what it looks like. If I hadn't have been picked as a Martyr, my Father could've depicted it for me. But then again, I would've been blown to bits in the mines so I'm missing it anyhow. On the plus side, I'm visiting it soon.

Turning my head, I gaze out of the windscreen, watching the windscreen wipers slice back and forth against the glass pane. Beads of rain sprinkle down gradually, then after a while, the downpour descends without a moment's delay. The clamour of the rain grows louder and louder, the rainwater dousing the windscreen; the road ahead is scarcely visible. The sentry is doing his best to clear the rain, but it's plummeting down thick and fast. Curling up in my seat, I hug my knees tightly as I pray for the storm to cease. I'd rather not get wet when I leave the car. And I'd rather not get killed in a road accident either, for that matter. It seems the odds aren't in my favour, today.

"We're five minutes from the train station," the sentry says abruptly.

"O...okay, thanks," I mumble, a little stunned that he'd actually communicated orally to me, not by pushing me to where he wants me to go. I'd begun to think that was how sentries communicated, but they can clearly speak too.

The rain continues to lash down on the windscreen, slowing down a little but still as strong as ever. A chill has mingled with the atmosphere in the car, drawing out the goosebumps on my arms. The icy air sends a shiver down my spine, most likely at the thought of stepping out of this car and in a split second becoming wetter than a river. Not that I've seen a river. The water source in Two comes from two water pumps. One of which is out of use in the wake of being contaminated with cholera. There was an epidemic about ten years before I was conceived. Both my grandparents died and about half the Precinct did too. The Commune didn't do anything about it to start with, but when everyone was finally on death's door, The Bureaucrat sent in a team of specialist sentries to sterilise and purify the area. But this was almost thirty years ago and the pump is still out of utilisation. It makes me wonder whether the cholera control is actually under control.