{Aug}mented [On hiatus until From the Ghettos to the Grand is finished]

Chapter 3

A nine was unheard of. Lucian was the first.

The instructor had a very pleased look on his face. He patted Lucian on the back. “Good job,” he said. Taylor looked at the peacekeepers and read their lips. They too were having a conversation about how remarkable Lucian was.

“I’m almost jealous,” the female said.

The male laughed. “Almost? I’m practically dying just wanting to have his genes.”

Lucian had a blank look on his face, like he couldn’t comprehend what was going on. Questions were probably racing through his mind. Taylor didn’t understand what the commotion was about either. All Lucian did was be birthed with a genetic sequence deemed the most desirable in society’s eyes.  

It wasn’t like he worked for it. He simply got lucky.

But Taylor felt happy for him. It was almost guaranteed that he would have a smooth life from today onwards. Perhaps, he would even have the privilege of meeting the famous yet secretive Illuminati.  His life was going to be perfect—she envisioned it to be.

And Taylor was completely out of the picture.

The scientist passed Lucian a black band that had his number printed on it. He took it with slow movements, as if he were in a daze. Then, he turned around and looked at Taylor.

She smiled at him, and nodded, prodding him to move on. But he didn’t. Lucian stood still and stared at her. His expression morphed into one of guilt, like he was telling her that he didn’t want this. Or that he was sorry for having to enjoy his birth rights while leaving her all alone.

What was he thinking? He was going to get reprimanded.

“Taylor Fiering.” The instructor’s voice was once again hard and stern, reverted back from the pleased tone that he addressed Lucian with.

“Go,” Taylor mouthed to her friend; he was an idiot for standing there like a rock.

She walked toward the examination table, more concerned for Lucian than herself. The examiner gave her a once over and shook his head. He looked annoyed by her presence, and most probably was given that she destroyed his joy of discovering Lucian by appearing before him with vibrant red hair.

The needle looked bigger and thicker up close. One word flashed through her mind when she saw it: Painful. It was something that had to be done and endured. To make herself feel better she looked away as the examiner prepared to pierce her with the needle.

Lucian was now walking away, slowly, turning his head around every so often to glance at her. He held a distraught expression, now that the time for their parting had come so near.

The instructor was getting frustrated at how Lucian was taking his time ambling along. “Hurry up boy!”

A sharp pain hit Taylor’s arm. She let out a soft groan. Hopefully it wasn’t too disruptive. She turned back and wished that she hadn’t. The maroon-colored blood was being drawn out by the needle.  It didn’t hurt anymore but it still looked disgusting.

Lucian still hadn’t left, and was only midway toward the door.

The instructor ran to him and pulled him around, forcing Lucian to look at him. Taylor couldn’t see what he was saying because his back was facing her.

“I don’t know sir, I guess I’m a bit shocked,” Lucian replied.

The instructor continued, lifting his finger up to nothing in particular and pointing. Taylor imagined his expression as one that was rather angry.

“I’m sorry sir,” Lucian said.

She heard the rumbling of the small gene-detector machine and her stomach churned. This was it. The time when the peacekeeper confirmed that she was an abomination and dragged her off to wherever they took the rejects.

She faced the scientist. His nose was scrunched up and he had knitted brows. “Number 2.”

And her fate was sealed.

The muscular instructor looked up, as if he knew just when the results were shown each time. He narrowed his eyes, then shook his head. Obviously, he was very disappointed that she even existed.

The peacekeeper walked up to him, and leaned closer. She was holding her gun in her right hand, ready to shoot. The instructor spoke into her ear, and she returned an affirmative nod.

“You’re the lowest we’ve got since three years ago,” the scientist said with a sigh, “your band.” He passed her the black band. It felt soft and velvety. It was nice, but there wasn't anything she hated more. It labeled her a failure and a freak, just because she was born the wrong way. 

She walked toward Lucian. He was still there. If only she could say some last words to him, but now that she had her number it was probably for the better that she didn't. It wasn't good for his future. She might tarnish his image. 

 As she walked, the peacekeeper closed in on her. The rifle looked more intimidating than ever—now that she was an official reject the chances of them killing her just went exponentially higher. Taylor quickened her footsteps, walking past Lucian and headed straight through the door. She wanted to run but she was afraid that she would get shot for being inappropriate.

Everything happened in a blur.

Taylor looked back at the peacekeeper, hoping to see her just standing there.

She wasn’t.

The peacekeeper had her air rifle pointed toward her. “No hard feelings,” she mouthed.

Taylor thought that her heart almost stopped.

The peacekeeper was breathing in a controlled manner, while Taylor didn’t remember to breathe at all. The trigger was pushed slowly as the peacekeeper made sure of her aim. There were no white flashes, or string of memories that they always talked about in movies and books. It was just blankness as she imagined her life ending in a mere fraction of a second.

BANG!

The gunshot was loud and forever etched in Taylor’s memory. It was the sound of death, the end of everything. She felt herself so weak and fragile, the sixteen years of her life so easily ended just like that number four boy that passed away earlier that day.

There was a loud thump, which she assumed to be her weakened body collapsing onto the cold floor. Taylor thought that she was dead. But she was lying on the floor, with Lucian’s heavy body right on top of her. She forgot to think for a few seconds, and then realization struck.

She looked up, seeing Lucian’s contorted face writhing in pain. “Oh shit. Luc!” She carefully rolled him over and tried to stop the bleeding by pushing against the injury. He had a bullet wound on his left shoulder, his flesh torn, wounded and bleeding profusely. “Oh my god—“

“I love you,” Lucian said while trying to force a half-smile. “That was all I wanted to say.” His words came through gritted teeth. Taylor couldn’t believe him. She didn’t say the same thing back because she never saw him in that way. He was always more of a big brother.

She was almost on the verge of tears. “Now’s not the time idiot!” He laughed, but his laugh was interrupted by a hoarse and loud cough, followed by a groan. She was about to call for help but realized that it wasn’t necessary.  The adults hurriedly rushed over to Lucian’s side, pushing her away.