Exiles: The Mutation Chronicles

By Alanah Andrews

Mutations. We call them mutts—humans born with genetic deviations that make them strange and dangerous.

Some say they are a punishment from God; others believe they are the result of nuclear fallout from the last war. Either way, the wall encircling our village keeps them out. Most of the time.

Sixteen-year-old Kirra helps her mother inspect the newborn babies, checking carefully for any mutations. Those identified as mutts are dealt with swiftly—sentenced to death or cast outside the wall to prevent them from contaminating the village. Worse than animals, everyone knows that a single mutt could spread its poison throughout the community.

Most mutts are identified at birth, but every so often one slips through the cracks. And when it's someone that Kirra knows, doing the right thing is harder than ever.

Exiles is a post-apocalyptic short read in the Mutation Chronicles. These stories, while set in the same world, can be read in any order.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Monnath Books
• Release date: Apr 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386151951

Book preview

Chapter 1 - Missing

Iam going to put an end to all people, for the earth is filled with violence because of them. I am surely going to destroy both them and the earth. Genesis 6:13

THE HOUSE WAS SILENT, except for the subtle tick-tick of the pendulum clock as it tracked the sluggish hours of the afternoon. Kirra placed some more wood onto the fire and then snuggled down into the couch, smiling as Flynn pulled a blanket over them to provide a buffer from the chill.

Far out, it’s freezing, thought Kirra as she relaxed into her boyfriend’s embrace. Not that she really minded the cold. She enjoyed watching the tendrils of flames race hungrily across the dry wood, warming the chilly room.

Above them, a large, painted angel poured the contents of a bowl into a speckled ocean, turning the waves crimson, like blood.

Flynn planted a kiss on the top of Kirra’s dark hair. You know, he said gently, his voice muffled against her head, you have the most graphic paintings of anyone I know.

Kirra smiled against his chest, and then looked up fondly at the painting on the wall. She was so used to seeing the angel watching over the family room that she had quite forgotten how unsettling the macabre nature of the image could be. The angel’s wings were draped back over its shoulders, painstakingly painted with hundreds of little dots that could only be appreciated when she got up close to it. Mum painted them, she said proudly. We have one in each room of the house. You should see the one in my bedroom.

Is that an invitation? Flynn’s voice was low, almost a whisper.

Kirra felt her face flush and she pulled away, extricating herself from Flynn’s embrace. I'd better check on Marli, she mumbled.

As she stood, Flynn caught her hand. I’m sorry, he said earnestly, his blue eyes boring into her own. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just teasing.

Kirra nodded, highly aware of the heat in Flynn’s hand, the softness of the skin on top contrasting with the callouses beneath. Flynn was the perfect boyfriend; both the Shepherd and her mother agreed. Caring, selfless and hardworking—he was a true God-fearing citizen. With his thick blonde hair and blue eyes, he was also the complete opposite of Kirra, but she couldn’t help thinking that he was downright gorgeous. Kirra flushed, wondering if he could read her mind, and made a mental note to pray extra hard tonight.

I know you’re just joking, she said, trying to pull her hand gently out of Flynn’s grasp. But I really do need to check on Marli. She usually only naps for an hour in the afternoon or she won’t sleep tonight.

Flynn nodded but didn’t let go. You’re okay?

Kirra knew what he really wanted to ask, and her face grew hotter, in stark contrast with the chilly air. Trust me, it’s fine. I’m not going to report you to my mother over a harmless comment. Her gaze drifted across to the angel on the wall, its expression severe as it poisoned the ocean. She takes the scriptures and the Shepherd so seriously, but she can also take a joke. And so can I.

Flynn squeezed her hand gently and then let go. I can make another cup of tea if you like?

Kirra breathed a sigh of relief as she was released from his hold. That would be great.

Kirra knew that her mother could certainly be intense. Leena’s all-consuming conviction in the scripture was unnerving even to Kirra at times, so she could understand Flynn’s unease. After all, people had been Exiled for less innocuous comments in the past.

As Flynn placed the kettle on top of the fireplace, Kirra crept up the stairs to check on her sister, deliberately averting her gaze from the dozens of Bible verses attached to plaques high on the walls. She could understand, of course, why her mother was so desperate to please God. Leena’s role as a caregiver meant that she was privy to the symptoms of the Lord’s wrath upon humanity. Kirra often accompanied her mother, visiting the neighbours and helping take care of the sick and dying.

They tried so hard to please God and to keep the community pure. But it wasn’t always enough. The mutts were evidence of that.

Tiptoeing across the landing to Marli’s bedroom, Kirra eased the door open and peered around the corner at her little sister’s single bed. Another painted angel watched over the room, doing the Lord’s bidding, and Kirra sought out Marli’s tumbled shock of dark curls.

Her body grew instantly cold, the way the dam froze over in the depths of winter, as she strode forward into the room, pulling the blanket back roughly. The bed was empty, the rumpled sheets the only indication that anyone had been there.

Flynn? Kirra’s voice was high-pitched and panicked as it surged down the staircase.

She heard Flynn racing up the carpeted steps two at a time. Kirra, what's wrong? They nearly collided as Kirra came out of Marli’s bedroom, and Flynn steadied himself, placing his hands on Kirra’s shoulders. Her usually dark skin was pale, her brown eyes wide with fright.

It's Marli; she's not there.

Below them, the kettle began to whistle quietly.

What? Flynn marched into Marli's room, flinging open the wardrobe and peering under the bed. Go check the bathroom, Leena’s room. Check everywhere.

Kirra snapped to attention, running down the corridor to her mother’s room, checking all the cupboards and Marli's usual hiding places. Marli, where are you? Her voice was laced with dread.

The kettle began to scream, and as Kirra dashed downstairs to take it off the fireplace, her eye was drawn to the cupboard under the stairs. Marli? She eased the door open, but the small space was empty save for the dusty cardboard boxes filled with her