We’re almost there! A new land, a new start. It’ll be perfect Milo, a new life, where we are free to do as we please. Milo scraped the damp stones with his shoe, scowling at the mold growing in orderly rows between the gaps. The light was dim, but in reality, it was nonexistent. Mr. Nemitz rambled on about Old Town, and how the new city would be even better.
“--and it was bright and yellow and gold, with leaves shaking in the sunlight…” Mr. Nemitz sang with joy. Milo turned away to hide his wide grin, as more and more people joined along in the anthem. Old people loved singing “Where the Sun Once Shone.” He supposed it had a ...view middle of the document...
The boat had appeared on the horizon, still a few days from docking, it had shone like a long lost sunshine. As it approached, it had grown impossibly large, its shadow spilling over the Town, and something about the way it shined had altered. The lights on the ocean at dusk became less like sunshine and more like monstrous eyes. Antennae. Teeth. It gnashed in the water, foaming viciously. But it had come for them, and offered what nothing else had: escape. Milo was pleased it was hideous. That meant it wasn’t a hallucination.
They slowly inched forward, the hollow clank of the ramp marking their position. Mr. Nemitz sang softly once again; Milo craned his neck to see the gate. The gateway was an imperfect square, with a dark metal panel sliding open and closed like the gruesome mouth of a rabid dog. Two men in tight, black clothes stood in front of it, rigid as The Wall before the war, like soldiers ready for battle. They had surgical masks, also black, covering the bottoms of their faces. Are they doctors?
“Almost there,” Mr. Nemitz said. Milo moved in front of him, shaking with excitement, hardly able to hold himself back as they neared the front of the line.
One of the black-suits stepped forward, and walked towards us. “We’ll quantify and analyze fifteen at a time,” he said, and stopped at Milo, tapping him on the shoulder. “Through the gate, please.” He pushed Milo ahead of him and began marching back up the platform. Milo stumbled and looked backward.
“But, I’m with Mr. Nemitz can we go with each other?” he asked. The man pushed him once again to the door.
“Fifteen at a time,” he said, and touched a fingerprint scanner next to the gate. It slid open and he pushed Milo over the threshold.
“But--” Milo looked over nervously. Mr. Nemitz nodded at him.
“See you later,” the old man said tearfully, and Milo could barely wave goodbye before the black slab cut them apart from each other.
The loud noise of the gate made Milo jump, causing the black-suited man to prod him once again.
“First check, then they’ll take you to your rooms.” Milo was nervous and tripped forward, bumping into a few people. It was so dark in the hallway that he couldn’t see, but a row of lights led them forward. Step… Step… Step… Prod… Step… Step. Milo’s heart was beating out of his chest. Step… Step… Mr. Nemitz’s song crawled back into his thoughts. He saw a black-suit with a scanner ask a girl her name, and heard her say “Luna,” before the noise of the ship drowned out all of the sound. A light shone yellow like the sun. Milo saw her lips quiver. Another light; blue. Another black-suit came out of the gate and pulled her inside. Milo was shoved forward once again. Then it was just him in the doorway. The black-suit with the scanner asked for a name. Milo told him, shaking apprehensively. The light on the scanner lit yellow. Is that good or bad?
“What’s your age?” The black-suit asked roughly.
“Fifteen,” Milo said, throat contracting and eyes widening. The light shone a...