Decipher | Watty's 2017

LVII. Promulgate

Promulgate

/ˈpräməlˌɡāt/

verb

to promote or make widely known

The entire room looked as if a tornado had flown through it, which caused me to scrunch my nose up in disgust as I noticed Luke's dirty clothes lying across the floor while the empty packages of food strewn all over the room. A loud sigh emitted from my mouth as I stared down at the mess with disappointment in my eyes. Although I had taken on the role of cleaning the room due to Luke's inability to, I was working on deciphering the code day in and day out instead of staying in the room for the duration of the day, meaning I wasn't able to clean as I previously had, not that Luke minded.

Quickly, I began to pick up the clothes, separating them in order to wash them without changing the original colors, and placing all of the empty food canisters in the trash bin in order to dispose of them. As soon as the entire floor was clear of those items, it became apparent that various albums of Luke's were still lying all over the floor from one of our many jam sessions. With an internal groan, my body forced itself forward, collecting all of the music while being careful of the discs lacking a cover to protect them.

I began putting them away in the various drawers Luke had designated to them, cursing his organization skills and making a mental note to myself to come back through and rearrange. As I filed the discs into their various positions, my eyes came across the folders I had found on one of the raids that seemed to have occurred such a long time ago. The only raid that had yielded important information without giving myself or Luke a heart attack due to the other's lack of cautiousness.

My eyes flitted over the names in the corners, sucking in a breath as I read mine, Luke's, and Cynthia's names that were scrawled across the top lip of the manilla folders. Pain exploded in my chest as I remembered the facts Luke had told me concerning the young girl's death. He had blamed himself for so long for it; hell, he still did. Nothing seemed to be enough to reassure him that he had done everything he could to save his younger sister, he always held that enormous sense of guilt on his shoulders.

The essence of my nosy personality began to show itself as I flipped through the file to find all of the information I could of the adolescent girl that gave Luke such purpose even at such a young age.

Cynthia Rose Hemmings is the daughter of Bob Thornwall, the leader of the Raiders. She and her brother, Luke Robert Hemmings, have been reportedly seen with the cousin of their father, Rosemary Thornhill, in the desert of the country, merely twenty thousand miles from their father's base, which leaves the inference that both children are operatives. The lack of a twin for both children allows the chances of both children to be somehow connected to the system very high. White Coats recommend their extinction before they reach the age of thirteen, which has failed to take place before Luke Hemmings reached the age.

My breathing reached a new level as I stared down at the information in front of me, the thought of such a young Luke being tracked and hunted down overtaking my thought process. I could not contain my thoughts as they roamed to the question as to how they stayed off of the grid for the longest time, and, more importantly, why they had sudden be revealed before Cynthia's death.

I couldn't find the strength to read the autopsy report that appeared on the page after the informational section on the young girl. Immediately following were pictures of the family, illustrating a Luke that didn't have his signature quiff, height, or lanky- yet muscular-physique. The smiles covering their faces seemed genuine as I observed the children; however, when my eyes met those of whom I assumed were Rosemary and her husband, their smiles did not reach them as if they were hiding a large secret that was slowly killing them.