Tina Chan - imperfect

“Alright, does anyone want to have one last go on their boards or are we ready to choose our VicDay target?” said Troop.

No one answered so he took that as a sign the guys were done snowboarding for the day.

“Names?” said Troop.

“Elise Lighters,” suggested Parker. “He wouldn’t let me copy his homework.”

“Samson Tuckerson,” said Charles. “Because he took my lab partner on Wednesday.”

“Timothy Garcia,” said Bruno. He carelessly blew a spitball into the back of an unsuspecting passerby. “Just because I hate his face.”

Troop inwardly frowned. Personally, he disliked Bruno but kept him around for two reasons: 1) he helped maintain Troop’s reputation and 2) more than once, Bruno had hooked Troop up to useful connections. Bruno’s father owned Ludus High.

“Maya Abels,” said Tompkins. “Because Jennifer said so.”

Some of the guys shot each other knowing looks. The fact wasn’t lost on them Jennifer was one of the prettiest girls in school and winning some favors from her wouldn’t cause any harm.

“Jay Allgood. She didn’t turn off the lights in the study lab and Mr. Marlin blamed it on me. Got an after school detention.” The corner of Mason’s mouth twitched, the standard of Mason’s grin forming. Mason rarely smiled outright. He paused, then said, “Actually, Jay’s pretty cute. Maybe I can convince her to date me—I heard she just broke up with that slug, Gary Whitman.”

“So, do you want Jay to be a VicDay candidate or not?” asked Troop.

“No. I withdraw her name,” said Mason.

“Any other nominees? No? Alright, send me your votes.”

Troop waited for a minute then checked his instafication. Scrolling through his inbox, he ignored the fifteen instafications from Jennifer and opened up the instafications containing the votes.

Maya

Maya

Samson

Maya

Elise

Timothy

Maya

Maya

Elise

Someone was breathing heavily into Kristi’s left ear. She slowly peeled opened her eyes and turned her head towards the source of the sound. Amber eyes locked onto her gaze. Before she could make a sound of alarm though, someone shoved a hand into her mouth. She bit down hard and drew blood. A girl’s voice swore in the darkness.

“I’ll really appreciate it if you would stop chomping my hand off my arm,” the girl’s voice whispered. “Just don’t scream or else we’re both done for.”

The hand extracted itself from Kristi’s mouth and she spat out blood. The metallic, salty taste lingered in the back of her mouth.

A solar lamp flickered on and shed some light in the darkness. Kristi squinted to make out the person in front of her. A girl about Kristi’s age held the lamp above her head and the droid-leopard Kristi saw earlier stood beside her.

“Who are you?” Kristi whispered.

“Chelsa. Chelsa Bright. We can talk more once I get you out of here.”

Chelsa removed a knife from her boots and swiftly cut the ropes Wilson used to secure Kristi with. Kristi let out a small gasp of pain as the blood rushed back to her fingertips.

Chelsa grasped one of Kristi’s swollen hands and silently led her out of the warehouse, relocking the latch on the door after they passed through. Kristi ran behind Chelsa, not knowing where they were headed. The droid-leopard loped gracefully besides them.

The once-familiar streets became an alien landscape at night; Kristi had never ventured outside after curfew. The whole experience was rather dreamlike. Acquainted statues of the city’s founder turned into unrecognizable figures, waiting for the right moment to spring into action.

Chelsa threaded her way through the maze of streets with confidence, often doubling back as if to shake off any pursuers. She slowed to a walk and Kristi recognized where they were: the alley where all the trouble started.

Chelsa placed her hand over the indented brick. As soon as the gap appeared, she stepped through the opening, motioning for Kristi to follow. Chelsa unlocked the padlocked door at the back of the room with an old fashioned key. It was the same door Kristi had tried to open earlier.

“After you.” Chelsa gestured for Kristi to pass through the door before her.

So she did, with Chelsa and her droid-pet trailing behind her. Chelsa flicked on a switch and five muted bulbs lit up the room they were in.

It was a modest, little room, with few pieces of furniture scattered about. In one corner was a bed with a quilt neatly folded on it; in another corner were a desk and chair. An old—but clean—rug rested in the center of the wooden floored room. Last but not least, a wardrobe squatted beside the bed.

“Welcome to my humble home,” Chelsa said, dropping onto the bed. She waved for Kristi to sit on the wheelie chair tucked beneath the battered desk.

“Thanks for rescuing me. My name’s Kristi Shea.”

“Any time. After all, how could I let someone like you get hurt? You’re too much like me.”

“Too much like you?” Kristi asked.

Chelsa explained, “We’re both not Perfects.”

Kristi momentarily lost the ability to speak. She had lived her whole life believing she was the only living Accident in the world. Her brain tried to process what Chelsa said, but couldn’t seem to quite grasp the words.

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” Chelsa said, petting the leopard. “I was beyond shocked when I saw you leaving the hidden room. To get into the room, you have to place your hand on the sensor I installed outside. The sensor checks your DNA for any artificial changes and only allows people with no DNA alterations to pass through the wall. I thought only I could get past the sensor. Apparently I’m wrong.”

“This is crazy,” Kristi said.

Yet she believed Chelsa at the same time. Looking at her closely, Kristi could tell that she didn’t have DNA alterations. Yes, Chelsa was pretty, but not pretty the way Perfects were. Her facial features weren’t exactly symmetrical. Chelsa’s eyelashes weren’t as long and exaggerated like the eyes of perfected females. (Lavish lashes and eccentrically colored irises were the “in thing.”)

“How did I not know you?” Kristi wondered.

She felt like her world was being turned upside down and twisted inside out. First she’d been stalked by a droid-leopard, next she’d watched an illegal movie, then she’d barely escaped some electro-slate thieve abductors and now she just found out she wasn’t the only Accident alive.

“I didn’t know there were others like me until today,” Chelsa pointed out. “I just moved into North Region a few weeks ago and have been trying to keep a low profile.”

“Where were you originally from?” Kristi asked.

“East Region. You?”

“Born and raised in the North Region. Do you have an electro-slate I could borrow? I need to give my parents an instafication to let them know I’m all right.”

Chelsa handed her an old electro-slate, giving Kristi the impression times were hard on her. Chelsa’s belongings supported this assumption; everything looked either second-hand or timeworn.

Kristi dialed Maria’s ID number. A notice popped up:

This is not a registered number. Please try again with a valid ID number or contact the Communication Headquarter for help.

Frowning slightly, she entered Don’s number. The message popped up again:

This is not a registered number. Please try again with a valid ID number or contact the Communication Headquarter for help.

Now she felt disturbed and uneasy. Kristi nervously punched in Jaiden’s ID number, praying he would pick up even though she was sending him an instafication at one-thirty in the morning. To her relief, Jaiden’s ID number was valid. However, he must’ve muted or turned off his electro-slate because she had to leave him a message.