Catalyst by Casey L. Bond Read Free Book Online Page A

stepped forward and got in my face. Puffs of rancid, sour breath floated into my nostrils. “You will always be a scrub to the citizens of Confidence. They might call you companions, but all you’re going to be is a pet for the Elite who can afford you. Don’t think you’re anything else.”
    I stepped aside. What he said was true, but what he didn’t know was that I didn’t care. I wasn’t here to be anyone’s pet. My mission was my own. And my stomach was empty. It had been that way for too long. If the citizens of Confidence provided food, I was going to eat it. I would take everything I could from them.
    Cason and I made our way around the buffet and filled our plates until nothing else would fit on them. Long oak tables with matching bench seats stretched across the sterile, white room. We took a seat across from one another and dug in. The pastries were decent, not like Cason’s mom’s, but filling enough.
    “Anything tastes good when you haven’t eaten in a day,” Cason said, his mouth stuffed with some sort of cookie that had been coated in white powder.
    With my mouth stuffed, I replied, “Or two.”
    “True.”
    Gulping down three glasses of water on top of the plate of food probably wasn’t the brightest idea, but it tasted so fresh and clean. I couldn’t get enough.
    “Ten minutes, scrubs,” snapped the guard that had called us pets. “Clean up after yourselves and line up at the door. We’re heading to the auditorium where you’ll meet your new owners.”
    I bristled but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. He led us outside into the stifling, moist air and down the sidewalk to the back of an enormous building with a large domed roof. Inside the door, we were lined up. Soldiers handed each of us a piece of white paper with a number printed boldly on it. Cason was nine, and I was ten. That was a shame. Seven was my lucky number.
    “Stick the number on your shirts so that they can be seen from a distance, preferably on your abdomen.”
    Cason and I affixed the papers to our shirts. They were big stickers. Everyone’s discarded waxy papers drifted to the floor.
    Ahead, someone was speaking; his voice was amplified but muffled. We were too far away to hear well. The girls in front of us fussed with one another’s hair and clothing. Some cried silently as we shuffled forward.
    “It’s show time, dogs,” the soldier said turning his smile in my direction.
    He led us to a small staircase behind a red curtain that draped from the tall ceiling of the building to the floor of a wooden stage. I could see through a gaping crack in the fabric. Beyond the veil, was a sea of people in every pastel color of the imagination. Had the entire city come to the companion ceremony? And why were they dressed like a damned rainbow?
    “Quite the crowd,” Cason said, nodding to the clapping, writhing mass of onlookers.
    “No doubt.”
    “You ready for this?”
    I nodded. “Absolutely.” I was ready. I was more than ready. Flexing my fingers, I bounced on the tips of my toes.
    Beginning with one, the announcer introduced each available companion to the multitude.
    Two.
    Three.
    Number Four.
    “Don’t do anything stupid or move too quickly. They’ll be watching for a while.”
    Number five moved forward.
    Then six.
    “Try to find a way to contact me, Case.”
    Seven.
    “I will.”
    Eight.
    The announcer called number nine and Cason was introduced to the frenzied audience. When the applause faded along with Cason’s smile, the man standing behind a wooden podium introduced me.
    I flexed my fingers. My ears rang. I could barely make out what he was saying. But Case saved me by nodding for me to join him. My feet kept moving until I stood beside him, waiting for my heart to slow down. Bright lights in our eyes, on our bodies. I felt like they knew somehow. Could they know what I was planning to do?
    The announcer, a short, stocky man with a tragic comb-over, smiled at all of us, shuffling