The Numbered

Chapter Thirty-One

The journey took just under half an hour. For the first ten minutes they drove through the affluent residential areas of Charmed. Large homes of varying architectural styles, surrounded by plush green lawns sported long driveways adorned with top of the range SUVs and sporty coupes. Even though Hannah had been living in such a home for a number of weeks now, she still felt in awe of these magnificent displays of social stature. All owned by those with SPRs greater than 90. The bigger the house, the higher the SPR.

As the car ventured further, they entered the area of Servilla. Here the population with SPRs in the 80th centiles resided; those lucky enough not to be classed as Flawed, but still not quite perfect enough. Seen as the society's middle classes, most residents worked for either the Government or business in mostly administrative roles. Those in the higher 80s were predominantly in education, law enforcement and medical care: nurses, midwives and general practice. Surgeons however remained resolutely a 93rd centile and above profession. Sevilla was well kept, clean and functional. Accommodation was still sizeable but it lacked the obscenity of wealth she had seen earlier.

The traffic lights ahead of them turned to red and the car glided gracefully to a stop. Hannah casually looked over to a red- brick, three-storey home. In the rear garden a family played together. She pressed down on a button and the smoky glass window sunk into the body of the car. Fresh air breezed in, carrying with it the sounds of happy children. The noise pulled at her heart. To the rear of the house was a garden. Here a small child, with chubby thighs and bouncing curls was being pushed higher and higher of a swing. The child was squealing in delight. Close by, an older boy kicked a football to his father, who in turn heaped praise on the child for his ball handling skills. The innocent, joyful scene was almost too painful to watch. The traffic lights turned green and Hannah was grateful that the car started moving away.

As they left the outskirts of Sevilla, they entered the rural lands- huge expanses of farm and woodland stretching for over forty miles. This vast area fed the city and its strategic importance to the Council was never underestimated. The majority of the Flawed were forbidden from living here, although they did populate it during the day in their role as manual labourers. The large farms were independent and owned by Top-5 business leaders. The government, ten years earlier, had privatised them in a bid to make them more productive and profitable. Working hours increased, wages were cut and conditions became more atrocious. However, such was the scarcity of work for the Flawed, that for every job there going, there was at least another twenty-people waiting in line. Recruitment was based on 'productivity exercises'- shovel races a perfect example. Here, those that dug the holes and ploughed the fields the quickest got paid; the slowest amongst them sent home at the end of a hard day without pay. Today, resulting from the actions the previous night, they found the area devoid of life- the Flawed were locked down in their quarters under curfew. No work meant no pay and Hannah wondered how many small children or elderly Flawed might die that day due to hunger or ill health. She shivered and pressed the button for the window to close.

This was the farthest Hannah had ever been from Charmed. As they drove on further, she spotted the occasional small, stone cottage set back from the road. Higher rating Flawed resided in these cottages, employed as farmland caretakers. They watched out for runaways, poachers and other unsavoury characters. Each cottage was armed with one shotgun and each caretaker was ordered to shoot on site if they suspected persons of falling foul of the law. The car slowed as it approached a small gravel side road on their left. They turned onto the road, its surface littered with pot holes with dense hedging on either side and followed it for a mile. At the end, they approached a slightly larger stone cottage than the ones they had seen earlier. It was surrounded by tall trees that cast a gloomy shade over the house. In the middle of the pitched, slate roof, was a small, brick chimney with two smoking pots. A large black dog rushed out from the wooden veranda on the front of the cottage and jumped around the car, barking furiously.