Read Exiled: Kenly's Story (A Talented Novel) for Free Online Page B

Sure, okay,
arresting Alana and the others was necessary. They’d actually done
something wrong. But UNITED would’ve arrested them eventually even
if they hadn’t broken in to the Embassy building. That crew
would’ve been hunted down and brought in, regardless. They were
being arrested because they were Created. And that’s what they’d be
punished for.
    This was exactly what Director McDonough had
predicted. UNITED was selfish. They wanted the Talented to remain
an elite class; an exclusive group that not everyone could be a
part of. Allowing everyone to receive the Creation Drug meant that
anyone who wanted to could be Talented. And if anyone could be
Talented, it was no longer special.
    Stupid. Selfish and stupid.

WITH EVERYTHING I’D come to accept in the
past minute, I’d had enough realizations to last a lifetime. And
they would, in fact, be lasting my lifetime. No more shelter and
food and camaraderie, training or purpose. Director McDonough had
given me all of those things. And they’d died along with him.
    Seeing all of those faces—Talia’s smug,
Alana’s bleak, and the Councilwoman’s radiating confidence as she
assured the world she had everything under control—it made me want
to snap somebody’s neck. Talia should be the one arrested,
controlled by guards. She was the traitor. I couldn’t bear to think
of Alana’s impending future. How Talia and the Councilwoman, and
everyone who worked for UNITED, could sleep at night was beyond
me.
    Not wanting to see anymore, I threw the
communicator aside and laid back on the bed, one arm flung over my
eyes. I was too agitated to lay there, too angry. I needed to move.
To do something. Anything. To let off steam before I burst into
flames.
    Scooping up my bag again, I stormed through
the doorway and down the stairs once more. Another cursory wave at
the girl sitting behind the desk, and I was back out in to the
London night. The streets were busier now, people hustling to bars
and restaurants, all looking to have a good time. Pulling my hood
over my head, I let myself be swept up in the crowds.
    A century ago, this area—now commonly
referred to as the Slums—had been prosperous: a thriving metropolis
of high-end fashion, cutting-edge musicians, and the greatest
theatrical performances the world over. But like most cities near a
major waterway, London had fallen into decay and poverty after the
Great Contamination. After all but the poorest residents fled to
the country, businesses closed down. Pubs boarded up. The seat of
British power was transferred to Coventry. Those who remained in
the city by the Thames struggled to survive. Many did not.
    Not from drinking tainted water or eating
contaminated food, as had been the fear of those who left the city,
but from dehydration and starvation. With the merchants gone, and
trade nonexistent, the people who remained in London were left with
few options for sustenance. Supposedly, the people who lived
through those years survived by eating city rats, stray pets, and
anything questionably edible that they fished out of the
Thames.
    Whether the harrowing tales of survival are
actually true, or just folklore, no one seems to know. But,
unquestionably, those who remained in the city post-contamination
and lived through it were…rewarded. Well, some considered it a
blessing. Others a curse worse than dying. Good or bad, their
resilience paid off. Not only did they live, but there was a marked
increase in fertility rates. Almost all resulted in a healthy
child. And every child born in the city at that time was special.
Talented. While the global Talent population has severely declined
over the decades, London’s has remained steady. It was now home to
the largest concentration of Talents in the world, outside of
TOXIC. Actually, now that TOXIC was gone, London was it. Talented
City.
    While the Slums were still considered
off-limits to most, the young and privileged liked to walk on the
wild side. They trekked down