Alienated | Breeder

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2RealityWhen he notice me staring, Sebastian quickly recollects his features, giving me his smug, signature smirk instead. “What? No snarky comments? Don’t pity me. I’ve had years to settle in my grievances.” Though it still hurts, goes unsaid.

“That’s my line! Wait, did you just say ‘years’?” I balk.

His lips curl into one devious smile, glad to have the upper hand. “Oh, you don’t know? Gab, are you gonna tell her, or must I?”

Thankfully, Dr. Smythe volunteers to supply the slight bit of information. “This might come as a shock to you, but you’ve been stored in cryosleep for the past eight years.”

A shock? Compared to before? “So, what? Are you telling me I’m now… 29?” I never expect to turn older so fast, but I am somewhat glad for the change of subject.

Dr. Smythe pushes his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, now answering more confidently. “23, actually. You were 21 when you fell into the deep sleep, but we managed to recover you not so long after that. The cryotank allowed you to age slowly while you were stored in it. Our technology is not that high-end yet, so you did age a little bit while you were asleep.”

I glance at the said cryotank, finally noticing the small bits of external machinery that makes up the large piece of equipment. This is all so surreal, I want to laugh at myself. Seeing all of these makes me want to believe that this is just one cruel nightmare.

“Ms. Goodacre, I know that this is a lot to take in, but I believe that telling you the truth is the best course of action. In the long run, it’ll help you to move on to the next stage of preparation.”

“Preparation?” I swallow. “For what?”

“Oh, this is gonna be great. Let me explain,” Sebastian offers, even when nobody asks him to. I quickly turn skeptical when his face begins inching closer, especially when he gets close enough that I can feel his breath fanning against my ear.

Recalling the licking incident, I try to pull away instinctively, but he grabs me by the shoulders instead. I glare at him challengingly.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t be forcing her to listen if she doesn’t want to,” Dr. Smythe advices.

“Trust me, this will ease the shock,” he winks at me.

Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, I let him whisper into my ear. But when he speaks, nothing comes out making sense.

I pull back and stare at him oddly, questioning his sanity. Is he for real? “Yeah, right,” I half-snort, half-laugh at him.

He leans back in to whisper the second part, and I react instinctively. “f**k off!”

Sebastian pulls back with a satisfied grin, and I glare at him scandalously.

“We’re good now. I think you can tell the rest to her, Smythe,” he pats the doctor by the shoulder before retreating himself to one corner, arms folded under his chest. That’s when I notice what he’s wearing. His form-fitting white blazer is a complementary contrast against his bleached red curls and sun-kissed complexion, which looks as obnoxious as his personality; followed by a pair of dark jeans and perfectly polished designer shoes. A bit too formal for a hospital visit, isn’t it?

Talk about Sebastian to still look presentable even during a global crisis. But he’s not the only one, isn’t he? Despite carrying a kind, humble air, Dr. Gabriel Smythe is dressed in quite a minimalistic white coat that has strangely-pointed collars at the front, combined with some matching tailored vest and undershirt that’s secured with a monochrome striped tie right in the middle, followed by some dark jeans and sharp dress shoes beneath. I’m starting to think that the future is not so bleak after all, if they can afford to wear such finely-made clothes.

Feeling the scrutiny of my stare, Dr. Smythe clears his throat nervously.

“There’s one more bit of information we haven’t revealed to you yet. As I’ve said before, there are not many who survived the outbreak. Few men were lucky enough to find themselves waking up after the hit, but they are even less women who are likely to survive through the aftermath. As of now, there’s a drastic ratio of 10,000 to 1 between men and women, give or take a few thousand, not including the ones who are still in deep cryosleep. If this went on, sooner or later, the small number we are left behind with will only dwindle down even further. Thus, in response to the new crisis, desperate measures have been taken and a new program was made.

“For every female who woke from cryosleep, she will be assigned to a house with a group of men to form a new family with. This is done in hope to balance out the severe ratio between male and female populations, and it can be expected that this new program will last for the next few generations at least. Ultimately, our main goal is to repopulate the community back to its original state.”

I stare at him with wide eyes. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Out of nerves, Dr. Smythe takes off his glasses and rub against the spectacles hastily before putting them back on.

“There’s a good reason why we keep you in this facility. We need you,” he swallows heavily, eyes darting at me warily as if afraid I’d run off the moment I hear it. “We need you to breed with us.”

...He’s right. I do want to run.