The lecture hall is on the same floor as the cafeteria and is equally large.
It
is centered in the building so that it has no windows to distract from
the lessons. The footsteps of the women echo as they file in, the space
meant for so many more bodies. The emptiness of it holds a disappointing
air as if the room itself is disgusted with their lack of numbers.
The
Clerics take seats near the door while the women cross the room to
where a makeshift partition has been set up. The sound-deadening boards
that make up the walls of their cubicle stretch nearly to the
fifteen-foot ceilings. Inside the space is still enough room for at
least fifty desks, but only six wait for them near the very front. Zoey
pauses as she rounds the corner, unable to keep her eyes from traveling
to the place where Terra’s desk has sat for as long as she can remember.
Now there is only a stark void, four abrasions on the floor the only
sign that anything has ever rested there.
Zoey takes her seat
directly in front of the empty spot, all the while trying to ignore the
absence at her back that is like a chill wind.
Miss Gwen is at
her desk, as usual. She smiles at them all as they file past like this
is the first day she’s ever met them. She is a pretty woman, perhaps in
her late forties, with dirty blonde hair and a short forehead above
hazel eyes tucked behind dark-rimmed glasses. Her cheeks are round and
always red, as if she has either been outside in brisk weather or just
heard some bit of inflammatory gossip. Zoey knows it is neither.
When
they are all seated, Miss Gwen continues to smile at them for another
moment before standing and rounding her long, old desk that looks to be
from another era when everything wasn’t made of plastic or concrete. She
wears her usual dress, the same color as their own clothes. It reaches
down below her knees, stopping above her flat-soled shoes. The smile on
the instructor’s face is as artificial as the plants that adorn the
hallways in some places.
“Good morning,” Miss Gwen says.
“Good morning, Miss Gwen,” the women reply in unison, except for Meeka. She hasn’t said good morning to the instructor
in two weeks.
Lily
makes an excited sound from the back row where she’s been placed, and
Miss Gwen’s smile falters. There is a tinge of disdain in her eyes as
Lily quiets, so quick that Zoey’s not sure if any of the
others even
notice.
“How are we this morning?” the instructor asks.
“Very well, thank you,” they intone again. Miss Gwen beams.
“We will all rise now and recite the creed.”
There
is a shuffling of feet, and all the women stand. The instructor returns
to the side of her desk, picking up a narrow, wooden pointer and
jabbing it at a brass plaque affixed to the wall.
They begin to recite the words, none of them needing to read what is etched into the brass and inlaid with black paint.
“We
are of the greater good. We live for the chance to rebuild the world
that is no longer. We are one in our knowledge and stand steady before
the challenges that face us. We give thanks for our shelter and for the
guidance of the Director. We will not stray from the path.”
Miss
Gwen smiles at them and taps the separate list of words below the creed,
each line numbered and set in bold, capital print. They begin to speak
again.
“The greater good is more important than any one life. We
obey the Director and his edicts. We do not disobey the Clerics or the
guards, for their words are the Director’s. We will not make a decision
lightly, for everything we do affects everyone else. If we break a rule,
the woman closest to us will receive the same punishment as the
offender. For we are never alone. All of the commune that is left of the
world depends upon us.”
“Very good. Your voices are so beautiful
together. You may sit,” Miss Gwen says. They all slide into their
chairs. Zoey notices Meeka looking at her, but when she turns to meet
her gaze she sees that Meeka’s eyes rest not on her, but the vacant
space where Terra’s desk used to be. Meeka looks back to the front of
the lecture hall. After a moment Zoey follows suit.
“Now, before
we continue,” Miss Gwen says. “I’m sure you’re all aware that this is a
very special
day for one of us. As you know, it is Terra’s twenty-first
birthday today and she will be inducted into the Program this afternoon.
This is momentous because it’s been over a year now since Halie left us
for the safe zone with her parents.” Miss Gwen clasps her hands before
her and shivers. “Soon all of us will be there with them and as sad as
it will be to leave our home here, it will be an unparalleled occasion! I
hope you’ve all reflected on how to say goodbye to Terra in your own
way this afternoon and take comfort in knowing that soon it will be your
turn to travel with the Director as well.” She gazes at them all,
hesitating for a brief moment on Meeka’s stony profile before nodding.
“Now, if we can all open our texts to chapter twenty-two, page one
hundred three.”
There is a rattle and thump as the desks open and
each woman pulls out the single textbook inside. The books are
hardcovers and glossy black. The silver letters N, O, and A in the
center shine as Zoey lips to the correct page. “Now. Who would like to
read first?” Miss Gwen says, as if it is the greatest honor she can
think of. Lily’s hand rises immediately, and she breathes heavily
through her nose. Zoey watches a look of disgust ripple across Miss
Gwen’s pretty features before she shifts her attention to Penny, who
raises her hand nonchalantly, her bobbed, greasy hair swinging above her
narrow shoulders.
“I will, Miss Gwen,” Penny says.
“Excellent, Penny. You may begin.”
Lily
lowers her hand, blinking, and begins to run her fingers over the text
of the page as if she is reading through them. Zoey stares at Miss
Gwen’s frozen smile and has the insatiable urge to run forward and drive
the older woman into the wall hard enough to break her back, crack her
skull—anything to wipe that incessant grin of her face.
“The
Dearth,” Penny reads from the chapter heading. “Late in the year two
thousand sixteen, a noticeable drop in female births became apparent
across the globe. At first it was by only several percent but soon
after, in mid–two thousand seventeen, the rate dropped to well below
half of the previous year’s. By fall of the year two thousand eighteen,
despite an unprecedented, scientific undertaking by the National
Obstetric Alliance, female births were recorded at less than one in one
hundred million.
“During this time, a rebel force consisting of
several militant groups rose up against the United States government as
well as the National Obstetric Alliance and waged open war on those that
were trying to find a cure for the Dearth, see chapter forty-three for
more information on the rebellion. For five years a civil war unlike any
the world had seen before raged until an astonishing discovery was
made. NOA scientists pinpointed the source of the Dearth as a singular
virus that attacks embryonic nucleotides within pairings of X
chromosomes, thus halting the births of females. This same virus then
mutated and became deadly to all who encountered it. The greatest
nation, and soon the world, became plague-ridden and fell into complete
and utter chaos.”
Penny’s words drone on in a dreary tone that
starts the inkling of a headache in the back of Zoey’s skull. She gazes
down at the neat paragraphs within the textbook, the pages beginning to
wear at their edges from being turned. This is how she learned to read,
how they all learned to read. It is from the text in the front of the
book that they learned English, math, and science, while the second,
much larger portion holds the knowledge of what was and is outside the
walls. How many times have they finished the entire book, only to start
once again the next day?
Because what else is there to learn
here? What other purpose but to wait and believe in the day when they
will be inducted and leave forever?
Zoey rubs the back of her
neck, blocking out Penny’s voice in favor of reliving Edmond’s daring
escape from his cell. Even after reading Monte
Cristo more times
than she can remember, it is still magical each time she opens to the
first page. She closes her eyes and is there with him on the sea,
moments away from finding the treasure, moments away from becoming
something new, something powerful and full of vengeance.
“Zoey!”
Zoey
comes awake, only then realizing she was dreaming. Miss Gwen is several
steps away, glaring, mouth turned sour at the corners.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You were sleeping,” Miss Gwen says, spitting out the words as if they were curses.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t . . .”
“Didn’t what?”
“I . . .” Zoey’s throat is closing up under the instructor’s relentless gaze.
Rita
snickers. Penny grins. “I didn’t sleep well last night because I was so
excited for the ceremony today.” The lie rolls of her tongue like
water.
Miss Gwen straightens, some anger draining from her eyes
as her mouth evens. “Well, I suppose I can understand that, what with
your induction coming very soon as well.” She gives what Zoey guesses is
the closest thing to a sympathetic expression she’s capable of before
nodding to the open textbook on Zoey’s desk. “Regardless, it’s your turn
to read. At the bottom of page one hundred six, second-to-last
paragraph.”
Zoey clears her throat and reads.
The rest of
the morning passes with the monotony of lecture. They take turns
reading, and Miss Gwen asks them her questions that have been answered
again and again.
Why do we obey the rules?
Because they keep us safe.
Why must we remain here inside the walls?
Because beyond them is ruin.
How can we rebuild the world?
By being part of the greater good.
Excerpted
from THE LAST GIRL © Copyright 2016 by Joe Hart. Reprinted with
permission by Thomas & Mercer. All rights reserved.
