Catalyst - Casey L. Bond Page 0,4

town from the rest.

Our society was all about separation.

The wall separated our town from the scrubland, marshes and swamps that stretched through the low country almost all the way to the ocean—or so they said—was for protection. Those who lived outside were considered dangerous. They were uncivilized, criminals who preyed upon the weak. “Never engage a scrub, Seven. If you ever see one, you run and hide. Understand?” My father’s words echoed in my ears. Of course, even Father made exceptions if it suited his needs. His latest legislation made my stomach turn somersaults.

The concrete was at least twenty feet high, and the top of the wall looked wide enough for a person to walk upon. I wondered what else lay beyond it. Such thoughts were treasonous, but explain that to a young girl’s brain. The imagination didn’t care about such things. It only needed to be fed, and that wall had sustained plenty of my childhood fantasies. Creatures, webbed and dripping with slimy algae would rise from the swamps and chase the children of Confidence back to the wall, where their shoes would scuff the imposing concrete, leaving lighter marks where the shoe treads found grip, propelling the kid up and over in just enough time for them to escape the monster’s grasp.

I snorted at myself. The only monsters I’d ever seen were human. I lived with them. I was born of them.

Enoch slowed the car, scanning the surroundings meticulously. My eyes caught movement. A dark figure crouched behind some nearby bushes that were too thin to hide him. Enoch had taken notice, too. He stopped the car and jumped out of the vehicle, raising his stunner.

I’d never seen one used on a person before. Sitting up straighter to get a better look, I watched as the dark figure jumped up and tried to run. Despite his exertions wasted on me, soldier Enoch was fast, too. Hot on the figure’s heels, the soldier launched the stunner’s probes. When they connected, every muscle in the assailant’s body seized and locked up tight. The man stopped short, and Enoch tackled him, removing the probes from the back of the man he’d just tackled.

My fingers and face were pressed against the hot glass of the window.

My goodness. That was intense.

I watched as Soldier Enoch winced and gritted his teeth as he hefted the other man’s weight and dragged the limp form toward the car. He didn’t put the assailant in the front seat and I almost fell out onto my face when the door beside me was wrenched open. He was going to put him in the back seat! With me! I scooted far to left, plastering myself against the opposite door.

“Can I get in the front?” My voice was shrill, but I couldn’t help it.

Enoch shoved the man down into the seat beside me and then began to maneuver his feet into the floorboard. “So you can run again? I don’t think so,” he grunted, still fighting with the man, whose muscles were beginning to work now. The man was trying to fighting back.

His clothes were weird. They were torn and dirty. His neck wouldn’t hold the weight of his head, so it dangled between his knees, obscuring his face. The door beside him slammed closed, locking us inside. There was a bullet-proof glass barrier between the front and back seats.

If I thought running had given my heart a workout, I was wrong. This was crazy! I tugged on the door handle, pulling hard when it wouldn’t open. “Don’t break it.”

The voice beside me was deep, rich and fluid. It stopped me. I released the handle and looked over. His head was eased back against the headrest, and he looked at me intently. “You’ll really piss him off if you break his ride.”

Blue eyes. The color of what I imagined the ocean looked like: Blue-green and crystal clear as water. Dark, shaggy hair framed his face. His jaw was square and peppered with dark stubble. He had holes in his ears, held open by round pieces of metal. Colorful tattoos covered one of his arms. I gasped, which made him chuckle.

Enoch started the engine and eased the car forward.

The guy sitting, literally stunned into submission beside me, was a scrub. And since they’d caught him in the city, he was as good as dead.

“What’s going on back there?” Soldier Enoch piped up, glancing from the rearview mirror to the road and back, as he drove forward down the same street on