Flooding Aldham (A Dystopian Short Story)

Chapter 7

I woke up to chilling silence. Looking over the room, everyone was lining at the door in silence. I crept towards Vesta.

"What's happening?" He didn't respond, his face was emotionless, a blank piece of paper. "Vesta, can you hear me?" My voice rose in panic. What was going on!

In a precise file, everyone marched out. Trailing after him I saw lines of people from other cabins spilling out the hall, filling the courtyard. Something was wrong, I just had to find out what. Imitating their blank expressions, I stood straight with my hands glued to my sides, my eyes boring into the back of Vesta's head. Hearing the familiar clicking of heels, I resisted the urge to look; I already knew who it was.

"Have the weapons been prepared?"

"They're ready for collection, Ebony,"

"We'll start with the Greys. Leave no survivors."

Without warning, the lines of motionless drones snapped to life, gathering weapons from the large crates. Grabbing a rifle, I blended into the mass of marching stone-faced soldiers. The only difference: I had to reach Cat before they did.

I broke off from the back of the line as they turned into the gates. Staying out of sight I sprinted through deserted streets.