Chapter 3

Tammy

The night seems endless, a never-ending waterfall of darkness and despair. How can she fall asleep when the guards could break down the front door at any moment? Tapping her foot nervously on the footboard, she kills the time by searching and counting all the black spots on the ceiling. By the time she reaches a few thousands, the sun has risen high enough to paint the plain walls of her bedroom in bright morning colours.

This should do it. It's time to get up and face the day. Maybe they are waiting for me at the Institute. At least, Grace won't be there to make things worse.' Her voice comes out horse and tired, almost defeated.

Avoiding her reflection as she passes the mirror on the dressing door, Tammy can almost feel the deep dark circles engraved under her eyes. She squints one of them trying to get rid of the sand-like feeling that is preventing her to keep it open. Then, she ungracefully tries to put on her uniform, a bronze thermal jumpsuit which feels like a second skin, and on top the long-sleeved charcoal dress that buttons up to her neck. The hem is winding only a few inches away from the black lace knee-high leather boots. After she gets dressed, she takes a peak of herself in the mirror, proudly straightening the emblem pinned to the left side of her chest. She looks decent, except her morning hair which she wrestles to tame in a small bun on top of her head. A quick splash of cold water on her face and she's good to go.

The Institute lays in the South, stretching from the river all the way to the walls. It is said the very first building the founders have created after the war rests in the campus. Today it is known as the National Bank of Genes, a vault where genetic diversity is preserved, from the human genome to as little as crop seeds. Humanity has barely survived one doomsday, therefore such a bank became a priority. From the sky, the ground looks more like a city within a city, heavily guarded and divided into different sectors. This is where the future is shaped, by moulding the minds of tomorrow to excel in distinctive career paths.

Tammy breathes relieved when no masked guard is waiting to snatch her as she climbs the stairs of the Biological Science building. Still, on the edge, she cautiously opens her locker, taking out the thick Biome book, and, then walks to class avoiding unnecessary contact. She can't get rid of the feeling that everyone is watching her, their judging eyes convicting her for lying.

Halfway through the lecture, a sudden movement outside the window catches her attention. The professor is completely unaware of the two black SUVs passing the front gates of the campus. He continues his speech about the iced bioregions, but Tammy has long stopped paying attention. She has seen these cars before. She remembers like it was yesterday, how the bald man had lowered the tinted window letting her and Grace know her parents got infected. These cars are the messengers of death.

She watches five of them getting out, two girls and three boys. These are not government officials, she tells herself after having a closer look at the unusual group. They wear strange clothes, so different from their uniforms. They must not be from here, the dialogue in her head continues. Her eyes widen in surprise when the blonde girl leans on one of the boys, her tight t-shirt raising just enough to reveal her flat stomach. In return, he slings his hand around her shoulders, pulling her close to him, his golden curls bouncing on his head. They all laugh noisily and are oddly familiar with each other, except one. His edgy look is more on the dark side, the black hoodie layered underneath the leather jacket. He says something to them and they all stop smiling at once returning to a more mannerly attitude.

The blood vanishes from her face when he takes off his cover and she instantly recognises those unusual eyes. It's the stranger from last night, the one that knows her secret. Breathless, she stares outside the window long after they had entered the building, too afraid to move her body. Her life is going to be over soon because he is surely going to report her. The voice of the professor announcing the attendance of three new students awakens her from her thoughts. He rumbles something about them being from another city and how important it is to make them feel welcome. Nonetheless, if her own life wasn't at stake, she would be the first one to welcome the newcomers. However, things are different and she's indeed about to face the ultimate trial. Diplomacy is the least of her concerns, especially now when he walks past her and takes his seat a few desks behind. Her heart starts racing and she winces as her nails are piercing her skin. She has been clenching her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white as chalk. Bile starts rising in her throat, burning her insides and making her choke. Miss White, is something wrong? The professor asks her flatly. She sits up, shaking all over, but she does her best to keep her stance upright. My apologies for the inconvenience, professor. I am not feeling well. May I ask for your permission to visit the Medical Centre and have a check-up?' Tammy asks using the same neutral tone, regardless of her guilty conscience.

Her stare is fixed on the immaculate floor, careful not to make eye contact. She is terrified someone will catch her lying if she dares to raise her glance. She's always been bad at hiding the truth, yet she must grab whatever excuse she can find and leave the classroom immediately. As if that can save you! Her subconscious barges in, disturbing her line of thoughts and forcing her heart to skip a beat.

Once the professor gives her a pass, she bolts out the door, eager to get rid of the foreigner's stare burning the back of her neck. Instead of taking the elevator to the ground floor and head to the medical wing, she takes the fire exit deciding to hide in her lab, her sanctuary. Her heart is beating so fast it feels like it's ripping through her chest. Good thing her laboratory is only a couple of floors above, otherwise she wouldn't have made it. As soon as she presses the button and the glass door closes behind her, she starts panting. She props both her hands on the septic table and tries to steady her breathing.

What's happening to me?' She asks out loud, her words echoing in the research facility. Unsteady on her legs and with her vision starting to get fuzzy, she makes her way to the Aid Kit Unit across the room. She presses a few buttons and the robotic arm comes to life. After she had her retina scanned, a metallic voice welcomes her to choose one of the options on the display above her. She quickly selects Self-Check-up not wanting her results to alert the medical team. Her heart rate is indeed too high, as expected from the pain in her chest, but her low blood sugar is what's making her feel like she's about to collapse. She takes a small syringe from the freezer and injects the purplish liquid in her arm.

A couple of minutes later and her pulse comes back to normal. That's what you get after a sleepless night and skipping breakfast, her subconscious intervenes mocking her poor choices. She takes a few deep breaths waiting for the medicine to do its magic, but her thoughts fly to the boy who caught her crying last night, making her pulse to skyrocket again.

He should have reported me by now. What is he waiting for?' Her words echo in the room leaving her breathless once again.

Harbouring knowledge of a felony and not report it is as bad as committing the crime itself. By holding the last night's events a secret is making him as guilty as her, a traitor against the whole nation.

The dreading anticipation is killing her. However, she can't hide forever in her lab. Besides, the rest of the hour has already passed and she must return to the next lecture. Her stomach starts aching at the thought of seeing him again.