The following is the Prologue to Outrunning Perdition. It isn’t finished yet, but I wanted to share just a little to let you know a little more about the story.
The walls, they are always there. I’ve been outside of them since I was eight years old. From what the Elders tell us, those inside the walls call us Outcasts. All male children are exiled from the Citadel at the age of eight. I don’t remember what it was like inside of those walls, but I want what ever is in it. It is mine by right. They may not see it that way, but we do.
The Reaping, it’s how we are exiled. We are brought to the people of the Palisades and taken in by a Defender. The Defender is our protector and teacher. We are given tasks. Some are Watchers. Some are Hunters. The rest are Gatherers. When we are given our tasks, we are given facial tattoos. Blue for the Watchers. Red for the Hunters. Green for the Gatherers. I don’t know why we do this, but we always have.
I am a Watcher. I watch the walls. I watch the train and time its comings and goings. The tracks and the train that rides upon them were built by my ancestors. We mined the ore which was taken to the Citadel to be refined. We made the tracks from the refined ore and built the train. They are ours by right.
One day we will take what is ours. We will overthrow those in the Citadel and take it. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I will if I have to. A plan is being made. A plan to take the train, they call her Perdition. I’m not senior enough to know what the plan is, but I am ready to do whatever is necessary to make sure we win.
It’s been a long day. The train left early yesterday and hasn’t returned yet. The sun is almost ready to set. I think it must have gone to the mine that is furthest west. The train always takes until the night of the second day to get back to the Citadel when it goes to the western mine. When it goes to the easternmost mine it leaves in the morning and is back by the dinner. When it goes to the central mine it is back by the next morning.
I am sure of this, but no one will believe me. They say I haven’t been doing this long enough to be so sure, but I know. I’m not young anymore. I reached my thirteenth year last month. I have to find a way to make them believe me!