CHAPTER TWO
Ethan Brand collapsed into an ergonomically correct chair in the control room and dropped his knee-high snake boots to the floor next to him. He could take care of the problem himself, but decided to wait for Jared while he enjoyed a few more minutes of the air-conditioned room.
He dreaded the short summer recess. Unlike the rest of the students at the academy, the break held little relaxation. The only upside was that he and Jared were able to spend more time with their two best friends, Nyla and Claire.
The door swung open and a gust of hot air flooded into the room. Ethan squinted as sunlight poured in, hoping it wasn’t his mother who invaded his sanctuary. Relief washed over him as his friend strolled into the room already wearing his tall Kevlar boots.
“What now,” Jared asked.
“The system wouldn’t activate, must be a clog somewhere. I’ve initiated the laser scan through the system’s pipes. The diagnostics should be done in a few seconds.”
They watched the row of monitors until they spotted a small red dot in sector two indicating something live blocked one of the outlets. Ethan locked down the system, changed the password so no one could turn the water on until they had a chance to locate and fix the problem, pulled on his boots and followed Jared out of the control room.
The new plants were struggling in the oppressive mid-summer heat. As Ethan looked out over the spindly seedlings thoughts of sabotaging the crops just to challenge Vera’s authority crossed his mind, but he knew he could never do it. He loved the land. He found peace and contentment in the fields and satisfaction in coaxing crops to flourish in this harsh, yet fragile desert environment.
Manual labor on farms was a thing of the past. Fields were plowed, sowed, weeded and watered with mechanized equipment run from a centralized control room. Despite technology the system wasn’t perfect, especially the irrigation component. Clogged pipes were manually cleaned which involved pulling out ambiguous material, or worse, encountering the rattlesnakes which had proliferated under government protection.
“Holy cow!” Jared bellowed as he jumped back at the sight of the obstruction protruding from the open end of the pipe.
“What is it?”
“How in the heck are we going to get that out?” Jared shrieked.
“Wow, I’ve never seen a snake that big or with so many rattles,” Ethan calmly replied.
“What do we do? Should we call someone? We’ve dealt with lots of snakes, but nothing like this.”
“Who would we call? I imagine we have more experience handling snakes than anyone. I say we cut through its hide and wait for it to bleed out, and then bury the evidence.”
“But what if we get caught? Killing any form of wildlife is punishable by three years in the Facility. I know you like Nyla’s mom, but do you really want to see her every day?”
Ethan shook his head as he looked at his friend with concern. They had never been afraid to break the rules, but he had noticed lately that Jared was becoming less sure of himself and was starting to conform to society just like everyone else.
“Why don’t you go back to the house and get cleaned up? We’re going to meet Nyla and Claire in a bit and I don’t want to fight with you for the shower,” Ethan offered. “Kicking your butt has become way too easy.”
“Thanks for trying to make me feel like less of a coward. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m becoming such a wuss.”
“You said it, not me.” Ethan slugged Jared playfully on the shoulder.
“I used to follow you into any stupid or illegal situation no matter what the consequences. Now I worry too much about my freedom, but I’m not sure I even know what that is anymore.”
Ethan watched his best friend walk away, shoulders slumped and head hung low, making him look shorter than his six-foot tall frame. When Jared was out of sight, Ethan took out the old pocketknife he had found in the cave and opened the blade. He treasured the find. It was illegal to possess anything resembling a weapon, but that was probably what made it so special to him. The only one who knew of the tool’s existence was Jared, and despite his friend’s weakening spirit, Ethan was certain he could still trust Jared with his secrets and with his life.
A distinct buzz brought Ethan’s focus back to the problem at hand. With one quick motion, he sliced through the reptile’s tough hide. Standing back a safe distance, he watched the tail flail wildly as the serpent struggled to back out of the pipe. The harder the snake writhed, the more it became wedged in the small opening and the more it bled.
When the snake stilled, Ethan cut the rattles off and stuffed them in his pocket. He wasn’t sure why he always saved the rattles from snakes he killed. The practice had become somewhat of a ritual—maybe it was his silent protest to the mind-numbing number of rules governing his day-to-day life.
He grabbed the snake and carefully pulled it out of the pipe. The snake began to move once free. Angry and desperate, the viper searched for whoever dared to challenge its dominance over the desert. Ethan jumped back and waited for the serpent to quit moving again, amazed at its reluctance to die gracefully. As the snake thrashed, a tiny rabbit peeked out of the opening. The animal waited, nose twitching, ears searching for danger, its warm, brown eyes glued to the convulsing snake. The rabbit’s gaze darted between Ethan and the snake, trying to determine if it could elude both potential predators blocking its path. After several seconds of quivering indecision, the rabbit darted to safety.
Ethan buried the snake, kicked dirt over the blood, cleaned his knife and headed back toward the control room. He had helped another creature escape the lethal serpent, which made him feel good, since he had no use for snakes. He didn’t believe any species should be driven to extinction, but he feared the authorities had gone too far in protecting certain predators. No one seemed to care that the innocent rabbit was in more danger of extinction than the serpent that preyed ruthlessly on the harmless animal.
Back in the control room, Ethan unlocked the system, flipping the switch to lift the dam bringing water to the pipes to irrigate the vegetables. As he reached for the button on the intercom to notify his mother that the system was back up, he noticed dried blood on his hand and wrist. He was relieved no one else was in the control room or he would have had some explaining to do. No one at the farm would care that it might be his own blood from an injury sustained while doing a dirty job—they would only be interested in catching him breaking the law.
Ethan washed his calloused hands and inspected his clothes and arms to ensure he’d missed no more blood. As he stared at his hands, the small scar on his palm caught and held his attention. Whenever he saw it, he thought about the predator. The more he thought about the predator, the more he feared the trusting citizens of America had become its unwitting prey.