G Hopf - Driver 8 - A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

“Yes, Teacher Seven,” the children said in unison.

She looked at Devin and said, “Go ahead.”

Devin stood and with no need to read it having memorized it, he said, “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the individual.”

On cue, the class repeated it.

As he sat down, Kathy stood and said, “Individualism is the purest form of selfishness.”

Again, the class repeated in one single voice.

Kathy sat and Darren stood. “Self-determination only determines superiority of one over another.”

Portia watched as the children continued the process, her eye watching the hand of the clock slowly move, drawing closer and closer to the hour they’d head to the infirmary.

Melissa stood and said, “Free speech isn’t free, it enslaves those it hurts.”

Before the class could repeat, Portia interrupted them. “Class we’re getting close to the time. Is everyone ready for today?”

“Yes, Teacher Seven,” they all replied.

She looked at the excited faces of the students before her. How can they be looking forward to this? She thought.

“Class, I need everyone to stand and line up near the door,” she ordered.

Ever obedient, the children did as she said. They calmly and without making a sound got up and stood in a line along the far wall of the classroom.

Portia slowly walked by until she reached the front in line. She looked down at a young boy and asked, “How are you doing today, Karl?”

“Good, Teacher Seven. Thank you for asking,” Karl replied with a big smile on his face.

“Happy to hear,” she said. “Does anyone have any last questions before we go to the infirmary?”

In unison the class replied, “No, Teacher Seven.”

“Good, then let’s proceed, we don’t want to be late and you know what the Number One says about being late.”

“Tardiness is lazy and laziness leads to apathy which leads to an unproductive person,” the class recited loudly.

“Correct,” she said. “Karl, please lead your fellow classmates.”

Karl nodded, opened the door and proceeded out.

Portia followed the last student. With each step her nausea grew. Who will it be? She wondered.

Karl led the class proudly along the narrow path from the school to the infirmary near the center of town.

Portia knew she couldn’t have favorites but she did and it was those that she prayed would return over others. It was horrible to pick and choose, but how could she not. No matter how often she fought the urge to favor or like one child over the other, she just couldn’t help it. Her eyes scanned the line of children until they rested on Melissa.

Melissa was one of those people who were always happy. No matter what, you could count on Melissa showing up with a huge smile and a positive word. For those who were lucky enough, she’d share a warm embrace. It was impossible not to love Melissa.

Portia picked up her pace until she was alongside Melissa. She looked down at her and smiled.

Seeing Portia, Melissa widened her grin and declared, “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Last night my daddy read me the most fabulous book,” Melissa gushed.

“What was it?”

“It was called Doggieville. He got it from a driver a couple weeks ago. It’s my new favorite book.”

“I can assume by the title it’s about dogs?”

“Yes, a wonderful dog named Kiki. He’s sooo cute.”

The line stopped in front of a large two story white building. Karl looked back and said, “We’re here Teacher Seven.”

“One moment,” Portia said as she pulled Melissa out of the line for a private conversation. She squatted down so she could have eye to eye contact. “Melissa, dear.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be scared.”

“I’m not. Daddy says no matter what happens, it’s done to make The Collective stronger,” Melissa said smiling.

“I’m going to be in the hallway just outside the room. If you need me at all, please have one of the nurses come and get me.”

“Yes, but you don’t have to worry, I’ll be brave. For The Collective,” she cheered raising her right arm, hand clenched.

“About the book, Doggieville, don’t tell anyone else about that. You remember there’s strict rules on what you can and can’t read,” Portia warned.

“I know, Daddy told me not to tell but I trust you, you’re like a mommy to me,” Melissa said wrapping her small arms around Portia.

Hearing that one word, mommy , hit Portia hard. It was the one thing she would love to be but couldn’t, so being a teacher allowed her to get as close to that as possible.

Melissa’s mother had been cast out last year after being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. In her absence, Melissa clung to the one woman who exposed motherly traits, Portia.

The double doors opened and a large woman dressed in white appeared. “Is this Class Two?”

“Get back in line,” Portia told Melissa. She looked at the nurse and answered, “Yes, this is Class Two, they’re ready for the test.”

“Good,” the nurse said. Looking at the children she ordered, “Proceed on in, go to the last door on the left and stand in line against the wall.”

Karl led the students inside.

Portia followed but was stopped.

“We need you to wait outside. As the students are released…” the nurse ordered holding up her hand blocking Portia.

“Wait, no, I’ve waited inside before,” Portia complained.

“New rules.”

“No, my students might need me,” Portia challenged and tried to walk around the nurse whose stature was large for a woman.

The nurse pushed Portia aside and barked,” Excuse me, Teacher. What’s your name?”

“Teacher Seven.”

“Teacher Seven, I don’t make the rules, they come down from Number One and this is a new rule.”

Hearing that Number One just past the rule, Portia relented. Getting on the wrong side of Number One was not where you wanted to be.

“Just wait out here, I’ll send them out as they clear,” the nurse said stepping inside. Just before the door closed she stuck her head out. “And I’d watch your use of words. Telling people that they’re your students is not wise, just remember, these children belong to The Collective.”

“God, it takes forever to get anywhere. I remember when you could drive from the west coast to the east coast in days,” Barry said his head resting on his chin, eyes fixed on the passing landscape ahead.

“How do you remember? You’re not old enough to remember,” Kyle challenged.

“I was seven when The Reboot started, I do remember,” Barry fired back.

Kyle shook his head, he wasn’t even going to counter his rebuttal.

Barry noticed they passed what he thought would be their turnoff.

“Are we going through Grand Junction?”

“You’ve been complaining about how long the drive is taking and I’m tired of hearing it. So, I’m taking a shortcut. We’ll keep on old interstate seventy.”

Barry sat up, his face tightened and his eyes widened. “Isn’t it overrun with Generates?”

“Yeah,” Kyle replied confidently.

“But that’s dangerous. What if we run into them?”

“Generates normally don’t venture out during the day, they prefer the cover of night.”

Barry’s nervous look melted away, he slouched back down and said, “Oh, yeah, I’d heard that. Smart, very smart of you to take the shortcut.”

Kyle chuckled.

“What?”

“Nothing, but I’ll add that they normally don’t unless they’re hungry, then you’ll see them out during the day. Who knows, maybe the ones who live in Grand Junction are hungry.”