ZONED

III

"Hey, you two!" A deep voice calls out. Me and Kimberly stop chatting and look at the source of the shout: a tall, dark-skinned man. "Can you pitch in?!" Both our expressions are laced with surprise. "Uh... yes. We can." Kimberly replies and motions for me to follow her towards him.

"What do you want us to do?" Kimberly adjusts her glasses on her face. "Could you maybe assemble this part?" He points out a piece of the shrapnel. There's a clip of instructions scotch taped onto a hunk of metal. "Alright,"
I shrug and knead down to retrieve the instructions.

---
It's been about six hours since the morning's announcement, and the final bolts are being screwed in. My stomach isn't just growling, it's roaring. Kimberly's stomach seems to be making noises parallel to mine. "I'm so hungry," she performs the repetitive motion of sighing to make her hair fly up from her eyes. I nod, agreeing.

"And... we have finished!" A tiny, oriental- looking woman declares. The room erupts with applause and cheers. The loud speaker crackles to life. "You have succeeded in the completion of your first assignment. Now, proceed to the dining hall and sit down at your assigned table. It's arranged alphabetically. Any person to report there after ten minutes will face punishment... severe punishment."

Less than five seconds later, the push and shoves in attempt to escape the room begin. I feel myself being jostled around, and I lose Kimberly in the crowd. "Hey!" I exclaim as bodies thrust me into one another. Somehow I manage to flow with the crowd and stumble out the door. Cold air whips my face as I reach the outdoors. "Keep moving." A high-pitched brunette tells me. She's right. I pick up my pace and follow the stream of geniuses into the dining hall.

There's an enormous room for S-Z, which I file into. Near the front, I see S, so I slowly make my way farther back. I spot the first V table, but that's just VA. Struggling, I slip and crash on a nearby table. I glance up at its guests, and mumble an apology. I next see its sign. VI. Thank god I'm finally here. I shift myself so I land on the left side bench. "Greetings," the familiar dark face greets me. It's the guy Kimberly and I met during the bomb assembly. "Hello." I outstretch my hand, "My name is Nya." The man gives me his, "Sebastian." I examine the other people at our table. No Kimberly, though. There's about 50 people seated on the long table. It has to be at least 100 feet in length, and it's only one of about ten or fifteen. The noise level is at the point where shouting is necessary if you're looking to speak to somebody that's more than two seats away from you. I notice Sebastian fiddling with something in his ear. He pulls his hand away to reveal a hearing aid. He appears to be only 30, maybe less, so I think his hearing abnormality has to be something caused by either an explosion or he may have been born with it. I don't want to ask, and, besides, I'm almost positive he turned down the hearing aid to avoid the cacophony.

We're all anxiously awaiting a meal, seeing it's about noon. The speaker begins: "Silence! Otherwise the food will not be distributed!" The noise dies down. "A robotic figure will soon be at your table with enough serving for everyone. If patience is not displayed, then you will not receive your food. Know: you are receiving the best meals out of all the zones."

A robot begins placing food down on the table. Since I sat near the end, I get mine first. It's a bowl of chunky tomato soup, a piece of inexpensive mystery meat (over cooked), and a cup of filtered water. I'm not complaining, but if this is the best meal then I feel sorry for my mom and Freddie.

I dig my spoon into the tomato soup, only to find it's not exactly hot, more like lukewarm. I see the elderly woman across from me spit the soup back into her bowl. It's not that bad. She coughs a bit and wipes her mouth with her hands. "Is there a problem?" Sebastian asks sarcastically. The woman shakes her head, "I'm not fond of tomatoes, thank you very much." She says and eyes him with irritation. He chuckles slightly and then replies, "Doesn't matter. I can't hear you anyway."

Sometimes I wish I could just tune out the world.