2081. In a sinister world where human survival hinges on biotechnology, an oblivious sixteen-year-old possesses the one code to undo it all. Can she survive the devious world designed to eliminate anything - anyone - out of the ordinary before it's...
"Three. Two. One. Go!" I yell, my feet already on the pedal, faster than most. The others don't even see me go. Maybe they take a while to register the word go, but I'm already shooting up the small hill ahead of them, in the lead. I want to lead. It's my birthday! I push myself harder, and just as I reach the top of the road, I turn and smile at the losers, "Last one down the hill gets slimed!"
My bike rolls unassisted from the top, propelled by inertia, momentum, and gravity. The road is steeper here and I don't need to pedal. The bike will do the rest. I outstretch my arms, close my eyes and feel the breeze lick my face. Best birthday ever! But then again, my family always makes it the best day ever, because I'm their only kid, and I'm a fucking genius, literally. I'm not even joking. I was seven when primary teachers didn't know what to do with me anymore. Psych evaluation and some other mumbo jumbo told the powers that be I was a freaking genius. My IQ was more than that of Einstein. Not that I let that go to my head. Most days. It's only when I walk into Chem, or Physics and see the seventeen, eighteen-year-olds struggle with simple theories and formulas I find a breeze. Then, I let it go to my head, but only sometimes. Even those guys are pretty cool. Or when I'm the only pre-teen studying Mathematics at University. Yeah, I get a little cocky, but hey, I have a right to an education, don't I?
I'm officially a teen today. I'm a senior in high school, and in a couple of months, I graduate and say goodbye to school while friends my age move onto Year 8. The world's my oyster. What can I say?
"Billy!" Dhalia yells behind me.
Then they all call my name!
"What?" I open my eyes and turn around.
They point at the road ahead of me.
I turn.
"Oh, shit!" I swerve out of the way or at least try, but there is no avoiding it. I've crossed into an intersection when I should have given way.
I don't even feel the hit. Just the sensation of flying in the air. The sound of shattering glass fills the air. The tires screech. Shrill screams echo. Then I feel the landing. Splat! Oh, that was hard. The wind's knocked out of me.
You know how they say you're supposed to see stars? Well, they fucking lied. I don't see stars. I see terrified faces looming over me, fussing, screaming, while I come in and out of it. They ask me questions I cannot hear. One at a time, people.
"I'm fine!" I breathe, trying to push myself up. If I can get to my feet, I can walk away. You'll see. It's nothing. I'm fine.
"Billy? Oh my God, Billy? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Dhalia screams above me. Zane too pops his head over hers. Damn, he looks rather worried.
"I'm fine," I try again, not that anyone is listening.
"Billy, can you hear me?"
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I didn't even see him... he came out of nowhere!"
"Someone call the ambulance!"
"Billy! Can you hear me? Can you feel my hand?"
Of course, I can hear you, Dhalia. Quitthe hysterics. So I had a minor accident. I'm fine. Just give me some space, why don't ya!
"I'm fine," I try again. And again, no one hears me.
"Oh my God, is he dead?"
Who is dead? Wait, you mean me? I'm not dead.
Someone touches my arm. I think they are trying to find my pulse. I try to shake it.
"Oh, he moved! Thank God he moved."
Finally! Now, if they'll just step away and give me some room!
I try to move again, but something holds me down. Pretty soon, the blare of a siren reaches the huddle around me and they part like the sea.
"What have we got here?" A paramedic checks my carotid for a pulse. He's satisfied I'm still alive.
Someone relates what happened, but the voices are hard for me to separate.
"Contusions, severe laceration, possible broken leg, and ribs..." The guy rattles off a bevy of injuries. Geez, man, slow it down. Can't be that bad.
"... possible spinal injury. Bring the gurney. Let's strap him in. Vitals are there but his blood pressure's dropping so possible internal injuries..."
The two paramedics work in a blur, and within minutes I'm strapped to a gurney, my head secured in a brace and an IV hooked into my veins. They don't waste time, do they, but why can't they hear me?
"Anyone of you Billy's parents?" I hear them ask, and feel the waves sway me, like calm ocean waves. I feel sick.
"Oh my God, Billy!" I finally hear my mother scream.
"Can we ride in the ambulance?" Dad asks.
"Yeah, yeah of course, sir."
The waves take over, lulling me into sleep. Voices fade into garble.
"Is he going to be okay?" Dad.
"He got hit pretty badly, sir. We can't say anything until we get him to the hospital..."
Why can't I feel my legs? I can't feel my legs, dad! Somebody help me!
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