Read Online The Choosing by Rachelle Dekker - Free Book Online Page A

“Don’t worry   —you get used to the smell, and it’s not as bad as working in Sector Eight. They handle automotive, and the smell of gas and sulfur never really comes out of your skin. You’ll work the first six weeks in waste before moving into a more permanent position somewhere else in the factory.”
    The woman walked past Carrington to the doorway. “The girls will show you the ropes.” She pushed through the heavy doors, and Carrington was alone with Alfred Stock.
    She eyed the large machine curiously as it convulsed and spit, an off-tune melody she was sure to hear in her dreams. She tried to take small breaths and searched the room for another living body.
    A face bobbed in the corner and Carrington headed toward it. She carefully moved across the concrete floor, unsure what she might step in. A loud hiss rang out from Alfred, and Carrington yelped. The head in the corner turned and lifted her protective goggles.
    The girl smiled and shook her head. “Well, well, what are the chances,” Larkin said.
    Carrington flashed an artificial smile and thought about something her father had always told her. “In every situation there is something to be grateful for.” She searched for it here, but with Alfred screaming and chomping behind her, her nose aching from the smell, her stomach turning with each new inhale, and Larkin standing in front of her, Carrington was stumped.
    “I guess you’re the new recruit. I would have thought they’d stick you somewhere with less mess,” Larkin said.
    “I’m only here for six weeks.”
    “I see. Everyone works waste, I guess. So, you met Alfred?” Larkin gestured past Carrington toward the steaming beast.
    “Yeah.”
    “I know he seems hard and bulky, but he’s actually quite fragile and high-maintenance.”
    Larkin smiled at her as if waiting for Carrington to laugh.
    She didn’t. She could feel anger rotting inside her gut. At some point in the early hours of morning when she couldn’t sleep, Carrington had witnessed her denial mutating into fury. She was working through the stagesof loss   —of grief   —and she planned to hold on to anger as long as possible.
    “Okay, then,” Larkin said. “I’ll show you the control center.”
    She walked across the room and Carrington followed her through a side door and into a small square space maybe big enough for three people. The space held a handful of old steel lockers and a massive control display with familiar-looking panels that would work with the chips in the Lints’ suits.
    “It’s a bit old-fashioned. I guess before the Ruining there were still a couple of factories that operated without a large mainframe database. Rumor is, the Authority plans to update this someday, but according to a few girls who have been here for a while, they’ve been saying that for years.”
    Over the next few minutes Larkin walked Carrington through the basic tricks of the trade   —which lever did what, what buttons not to push, when to push others. Carrington listened intently, trying to memorize every instruction. She did not want to ask for help later.
    “That’s about it,” Larkin finished. “It takes some getting used to, but once you have it, it’s easy.”
    Carrington nodded and waited for a cue from Larkin for what to do next.
    “Hey, sorry about yesterday morning,” Larkin started. “I didn’t mean to come on so strong.”
    Carrington averted her gaze from Larkin’s face.
    “I know how rough the first few days are, and I should have been more sensitive. I was just surprised to see you.”
    “This isn’t a mistake. I deserve to be here, just like everyone else. I’m meant to be here.” Carrington could hear the unnecessary edge in her voice. It wasn’t Larkin’s fault she was here; the fault was all her own.
    “No one is meant to be here,” Larkin said. Her eyes weren’t on Carrington anymore; rather, they were holding a spot beyond the physical room. Silence held the two girls for a long