Free Shymers by Jen Naumann Page A

been a Future. Had her parents told her it would be considered rude to say anything to me?
    Still, why would the soldiers have said that I wouldn’t be told of my DOD until I was eighteen? They would have known to look for such a mark. My hair had been down at the time. They simply took a scan of my eyes before releasing me to the orphanage.
    My fragile brain is too confused to register anything as Bree leads me down the aisle. Colors and movements blend together, reminding me of the time Taylor had spun me around in a circle until I became dizzy and fell to the ground. When we step down into the street, I am met with the overwhelming heat mixed with a pungent odor that slams into me with the musty air. I reach up to cover my mouth, afraid I am going to vomit. Voices all around me whisper in hurried excitement.
    “Is that the new girl?”
    “What is wrong with her?”
    “Olive?” Bree’s asks. Her voice is hollow and sounds as if it is coming to me from miles away. “Olive, can you hear me?”
    A large hand slips under my elbow to pull me upright. The foul smell is suddenly replaced with something sharp and clean. I lean into the strong arms that hold me, taking more of it in. Although the scent is not exactly like that of my father’s, it is definitely masculine. My head pushes into a warm chest and my lungs fill with more of the wonderful, musky aroma. After a moment, I realize my face is buried into a stranger’s chest and lean away.
    Harrison looks down on me.
    His eyes reflect an unexpected kindness and even something resembling a glimmer of hope that all too quickly fades away. His eyebrows draw together and his hand falls from my elbow. “What is wrong with you?” he growls. The annoyance sounds artificial—forced.
    “I’m…sorry,” I say. “I’m not feeling well.”
    Bree stands at my side, her face etched with worry. “I was afraid you were going to pass out or something.”
    Other Shymers stand in a small circle surrounding us, watching with wide eyes. Some only pass by, but still turn to stare.
    Heat spreads through my face. I have caused a scene. “I’m fine,” I insist, looking beyond everyone to try to gather myself. “Is it far to the orphanage?”
    The rainbow houses we saw in the shuttle have been replaced with dozens of dark, towering buildings made with brick and large solar panels. Now that I stand away from Harrison, his pleasant scent is replaced with the foul odor from earlier. It doesn’t take much imagination to know where the bad smell is coming from as everything here is dirty. Trash blows across the street. The buildings are old and dilapidated. To make it even worse, the worn canopies covering the streets make everything darker and more sinister in their massive shadows.
    A group of soldiers with long guns strapped to their bodies stand down the road from us, taking our gathering in with interest. I shudder when I remember the similarly dressed soldiers bursting into our home and taking my mother away from me.
    I lean back into Bree. “Are we allowed to just stand in the street like this?”
    After glancing over her shoulder, she shakes her head. “You need to report to the orphanage. Harrison can help you find your way.”
    Harrison’s eyes dart to mine. He looks quite dismayed by the idea. Bree must have lost her mind. He is obviously still annoyed at me for some unknown thing I have done to offend him. More than anything, I would expect him to avoid me right now. Still, the warm feeling from when we first met returns, along with a small pang of excitement. He must live at the same orphanage.
    “Yeah, sure,” Harrison finally mumbles.
    Bree’s face lights up. “Great! I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Her cheerful attitude has been an exception today. I suddenly love her for reaching out to me. I lean forward and embrace the girl who doesn’t have much longer to live, who doesn’t know a good time and who has never known love from anyone other than her family.
    She