Chapter One

May 9th, Present Day


“Here are your permission slips for the trip. They need to be signed and returned at least two days in advance. If you need a packed lunch, let me know now so I can alert the lunch ladies.”
Mrs. Oliglive, our history teacher, passed out said slips, making sure everyone knew where their parents were supposed to sign before heading back to the front of the room. Today’s agenda was written on the chalkboard in perfect handwriting, as well as the date. The field trip was on the twelfth.
I looked down at the paper on my desk, my eyes immediately finding the notice on the bottom. ALL STUDENTS MUST RECEIVE THE VACCINE BEFORE VIEWING THE RUINS. NO EXCEPTIONS.
I have yet to receive the vaccine. To be honest, I didn’t think it was necessary—and not just because I’m scared. The vaccine—supposedly—served to prevent us from contracting the Azul virus. I wasn’t sure of the specifics, but I knew it affected anyone with blue eyes. My mom says some people with gray get it too but it is very rare.
I folded the slip into three parts and tucked it inside my binder. I didn’t want to tell my mom so I’d let her find it on her own. The bell—a low, winding siren—rang and everyone scooted back their chairs, rising and preparing to leave. I shouldered my bag and grabbed my books, pausing as Mrs. Oliglive told me to wait.

“Angeles,” she said, “I understand you’re hesitant about the trip.”
I pursed my lips and shrugged. “I guess I am a little. Why?”
“I think it’ll be a good experience for you, especially given your name. It’s a learning experience for anyone under thirty. I don’t want you to miss out on anything, is all.”
I smiled half-heartedly. “Thank you, Mrs. Oliglive. I’ll definitely think about it some more.”
She smiled back and opened the door for me, wishing me a good evening. I walked out the front doors, breathing in the seventy-degree air. My best friend Savvy was walking her younger sister, Salena, home from school. Her mom was wary of a man who lived in their neighborhood and didn’t want her children walking home alone. She was too busy to supervise herself so this was the solution.
I waved to her and she returned the favor, Salena offering me a wide grin. We lived on opposite sides of town, me in the north and her in the south, but still found time to see each other. It was mostly because of our parents, who had gone to high school together and remained in touch.
Salena let go of Savvy’s hand and ran this way, carrying a piece of paper shaped like a bird.

“Look what I made!” she said, holding it in front of my face. She was ten, nearly the age my brother was when he died. Her voice was practically identical to her sister’s.

“A bird?” I said. “What kind of bird is it?”

“A Blue Jay. Mrs. Kennington says their symbolic. They scream really loud whenever they’re in danger and act as an alarm to other birds.”
I arched my eyebrows. “Really? I didn’t know that.”
Savvy finished approaching and crossed her arms, giving us a small smile. Her sister was obsessed with Blue Jays. She loved to draw them, paint them, she even imitated them sometimes. I found it endearing.

“Yeah,” she continued. “They’re very intelligent and have aggressive tendencies in some cases.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her vocabulary and leaned down to her level, inspecting the bird. It was colored in the traditional blue and white with specs of black.

“Very pretty,” I told her. “I think I want to keep it.”
She snatched it back. “No, you can’t! It’s mine!”
I laughed. “I know. I’m kidding, Sal.”
She softened. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I straightened, locking eyes with Savvy. “Are you going on the trip?”

“Of course. I’m taking the slip home to Mom now. I know she’ll sign it. She thinks it’s ‘good for the mind’ or something stupid like that.”
I laughed again and lifted one shoulder. “It might be. Who knows?”

“And what about you?” she asked, turning serious. “Aren’t you deathly afraid of the vaccine?”

“I’m not deathly afraid. I just have concerns.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. I heard they didn’t use needles or patches to inject the vaccine so that left the question: what did they use instead? I didn’t know and no one would tell me. I think it’s supposed to remain a secret for some reason.

“Right. Concerns. Well, Salena and I should get going. Mom is probably debating whether or not we got raped by that man.”
I stifled another laugh and let them go, adjusting my hold on my books. Moments like this made me regret losing my little brother, Harlow. I quickly walked the rest of the way home and opened the front door, yelling for my mother.
These days, she spent most of her time in the basement. I guess paranoia was a side effect of the disease. My mom got infected with it in her teens and since they hadn’t had a cure then, she didn’t get cured until she was twenty four—when she got pregnant with me. I was surprised they let it go on that long but my dad said that she hid it from them in fear they’d kill her. I could understand that.

“In here!” she answered, coming up the steps. I gave her a hug and set down my stuff, lowering onto one of the chairs. A pot of tea was brewing on the stove and she poured me a cup, running a hand through my hair.

“How was school?”

“The same as always. Mrs. Oliglive reminded us about the trip today. We only have three days to. . . prepare.”
My mom tipped her head back slightly. “I see. It’s the vaccine, isn’t it?”

“Why does everyone assume that?” I asked. “Maybe I’m just nervous about seeing the Ruins.”

“You shouldn’t be,” she said. “It’s the city I named you after. I’ve always wanted to go there when I was younger. I thought you’d be more excited.”

“I am excited. It’s just—”

“The vaccine.”
I sighed. “Fine. Yes. I’m worried about the vaccine. But it’s mandatory. I have to get it in order to go on the trip.”
The Government believed that the virus derived from the Spanish and since Los Angeles had once been the home of a Spanish Empire, they felt it should be razed in order to protect the future of our society. Technically, we lived in a part of Los Angeles but I’ve been told that this area is ‘clear’ of any disease, courtesy of the Enforcers.
They were a peacekeeper of sorts and controlled us like a military.

“It wasn’t required in my day,” my mom said, taking a drink of her tea. “We just went.”
If only that were true now. It’d be so much easier on me. Stress gave me a rash.

“You’ll be fine, Angeles. I promise it doesn’t hurt. Too bad.”

“Reassuring.”

Later that night, Mrs. Oliglive called to tell me that tomorrow, the whole class will be getting vaccinated at the clinic near the courtyard. I wasn’t aware that arrangements would be made but apparently so. My mom signed the slip during the call before she forgot and put it back in my bag. I hung up the phone and pulled myself up on the counter, grabbing a packet of crackers out of the drawer.

“I’ve never been to the clinic by the courtyard before,” I said.

“You’ve never had a reason to. You’ve been a healthy kid so far.”
I nodded, shoving one in my mouth whole so I wouldn’t have to respond. I was beginning to get an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach and it wouldn’t go away. I knew it was because of the cure but there was no way I would be able to convince myself otherwise in less than twenty-four hours.
I sat there until I finished the peanut butter crackers and pulled out my homework even though I wasn’t in the mood for Geometry; I needed something to pass the time. My mom excused herself to bed and told me lights out at eleven. I nodded in response and leaned against the counters, propping up my book on my knee.
The corner of my history text was peeking out of my bag and a flash of blue crossed my vision. Even though I had brown eyes, I could still get the virus. It could turn even the darkest black white. It had something to do with your pigments and caused a permanent ailment of the mind.
Hallucinations (rarely), paranoia, and memory loss were all side effects, as well as many others. It depended on the severity of the disease. Part of me wondered how my mom had suffered for so long. Surely she had permanent damage of some sort. I put my math book aside and pulled out the history one, flipping to the page I had marked.
Mrs. Oliglive talked about the beginnings of the virus in class yesterday and mentioned something about it being common in those with dark or tanned skin, despite people with paler skin having lighter eyes. I guess it was because of the Spanish being tanned.
I skimmed through the paragraphs, looking for a section in particular. When I found it, I grabbed a highlighter so I wouldn’t forget where it was.

The virus azul, first named by Mario Banderas, came about in the 15th century and appeared in a woman with dark skin and blue eyes, hence the name, which means blue virus.
She suffered for many weeks before succumbing to the disease at the tender age of twenty-two. Since then, scientists have performed multiple experiments and studies in order to give us the cure we have today.
Anyone who thought they had the virus azul checked themselves into the local clinic for testing. Symptoms include:
Amnesia
Paranoia
Hallucinations
Nightmares
Discoloration of the iris
Night sweats/hot flashes
Abnormal fears

I sat back, shutting the book. My mom displayed some of those on a daily basis. Maybe they were with you for life. I put both books away and slid off the counter, going upstairs to brush my teeth and go to bed. Darkness fell quickly here in Agoura. It was half past nine and the sun was no longer visible. I closed the curtains in the bathroom and turned on the faucet, running my brush under the water.
My reflection looked tired. It wasn’t exactly late but sometimes I had a hard time during the day, with school and all. I was a good student. Just one in a hurry to graduate and get out of here. I wanted to move far, far away and forget everything about the town that raised me.
I brushed quickly and turned off the light, walking down the hall towards my room. The walls were made of metal to keep out the heat in the summer and the cold in the winter, though it rarely dropped below fifty. We had no pictures hanging; cameras were banned a while ago, before I was born. ‘They captured things that should be forgotten.’ That was their exact words, the Enforcers. What cameras captured were memories, things nobody wanted to forget. My mom probably didn’t remember what I looked like as a baby.
I locked my door—safety protocol number six—and changed into a set of night clothes, which consisted of a white gown. One was made of a thin, lacy material; it was obviously for summer. The other fell to my shins and was rather thick and heavy to keep out the chill in the colder months.
After putting on the summer one, I crawled into bed, laying on my side so that I could see out the window. The stars were visible tonight. They looked like tiny diamonds against the navy blue of the sky—and they probably were. I haven’t seen the real stars in a long time. The ones I saw now were replicas created by the Government.
Back in the early 2000’s, there were common quotes that people liked to use to express their dreams. They were something like: the sky is the limit and shoot for the moon and if you miss you will still be among the stars. They were said to give people hope and the Government thought hope was a bad thing. It gave you expectations. Without the stars, we had nothing to guide us but the Enforcers.
I realize now that’s what they wanted. The Government wanted us to be lost and to depend on them because without the Government, humanity would crumble. We need someone to hold our hand and show us the way. And for many, the stars did just that. They were constant. People had a hard time adjusting to change and we’ve experienced much of it over the past couple hundred years.
The stars were there through it all. Except now they weren’t. I don’t know how they did it but we longer had real stars. They must be hidden behind the new ones. I rolled over; no longer interested in something I couldn't actually touch. Something that no longer comforted me. I dreamt of blue diamonds that night.