Altruist (The Altruist Series Book 1) Read Free Page A

has begun to set, signaling curfew. Night patrols will begin their routes, I think and though I know I should head home, I decide to sit for a moment, taking in the view of the city.
     
    High walls segregate wards from one another, guard shacks by each sector entrance ensure that lower classes are only admitted with the correct documents for their passage, which is mostly children waiting for rides to school since public transportation doesn’t run in lower wards. The city is divided into 9 sectors and within each are 5 wards. Class 4s occupy the northeast sectors, closest to the fresh water towers. The further southwest you head, the lower the class. From this height I can easily spot my house, smack dab in the middle of Sector 7’s third ward. I’ve always thought my ward was the luckiest being close enough to the center of the city on the left but on the right, expansive fields supplied with genetically engineered crops that grow year-round outreach towards the mountains in the distance. For a moment, staring at the range, I feel free.
     
    A green glimmer to the right catches my eye and I am snapped back into reality. The streetlights are coming on. Curfew’s in effect. Damn. I crouch down to tighten my laces for my run back and am startled when I hear rocks being kicked and wheezing behind me. Last year, three boys were caught hanging out past curfew, listening to sports shows on a radio. They were sentenced to three months community service and home restriction. I love my family, but I’m not willing to be locked inside with them and only allowed out to pick up trash. I duck behind the large rock I was sitting on. The footsteps become louder and I cover my mouth with my hand, refusing to let noise escape.
     
    “I swear I chased you the last mile. Do you not have your phone? I texted you like five times.”  I smile and look up. Asher would follow me for the last mile.
     
    “What’s up?” I say laughing; partially because it’s funny he’s here and partially from nerves.
     
    Asher catches his breath.  “I’m pretty sure your subconscious is trying to tell you something.”  I scrunch my brow. “What are you talking about?” I ask and start to make my way down the trail.
     
    “Your dream!  I googled it and all this stuff popped up about how recurring dreams are your brain’s way of telling you something important.  They’ll probably stop happening when you figure out what it wants to say.” 
     
    In his own way, Asher is always looking out for me, even if his only way is countless hours of online research.  I smile, “Thanks Asher.  It’s starting to get dark, we should head down.” 
     
    “Yeah you’re right, but let’s cut through the alley behind my house, patrols are out. OH and don’t get too far ahead of me.  I almost broke my neck trying to get up here.”
     
    ###
     
    Sometimes I can’t sleep.  I lay in bed tossing and turning for hours wondering if the dream will come to me again, and if it does, if there is anything I can do to change the ending. Even if I can’t, for some reason, I want the dream to come anyway. I am not the most confident girl, but when I am there, in those dreams, I am strong, I am brave. And if I could just catch a glimpse of the man’s face, I know I could stop him from what comes next. I turn to my side and see the bright, electric blue digital outline of my clock, 2am. My mind floods with dread as I know that every minute spent lying here is another minute closer to when I need to wake up. Maybe Asher was right, maybe I am trying to tell myself something. I glance at the funny metal box with the pearl inlay sitting impenetrable next to my alarm clock. It really is beautiful, in a cold harsh way. As I lie there staring, my eyelids begin to fall, making my decision to sleep or stay up all night less my own. Sleep comes before I ever get the chance to decide.
     
     
    It’s dark; I am cold. My breath materializes upon each exhale. I am walking