Steven Santos - The Culling

In addition to our already crowded daily training and instruction, we’re also forced to tackle the Teamwork Tower protocol, a series of obstacle courses located on rotating platforms hovering hundreds of feet above the ground. We’re forced to depend on one another at these dizzying heights to navigate simulated landscapes of rocky terrain, snow-capped peaks, and desert regions, climbing rope ladders and bridges before rappelling down hundred-foot walls.

Our next FTX, however, takes place on the ground. It’s an overnighter in the Southwest Quadrant of Infiernos, away from the coast, deep in the interior of the island. In this vast, isolated area of dense undergrowth, we will fend for ourselves, building shelters and hunting for our own food.

After going the whole day of the FTX without eating, Digory, Cypress, Gideon, and I leave Ophelia behind at the camp to finish setting up the shelters while we spend the evening racing through thick brushwood in search of food. Clutching makeshift spears we whittled from branches, the four of us pursue a floppy-eared lepus. But as sunset approaches we have nothing to show for our efforts, except for the bloody signatures of thorns and branches inscribed on the exposed skin of our sweat-drenched bodies.

I collapse to the ground with the others, too hungry and tired to swat at a mosquito feasting on the back of my hand. Then a smiling Ophelia steps into the clearing-carrying the lepus in her arms!

“There, there,” she coos, stroking the creature’s head. The animal squirms, but she holds it by its hind legs and head. “You are just too cute!” She nuzzles its nose with hers. “I finished with the shelters early, so I figured I’d join the fun.”

Before any of us can say anything, her smile disappears and her eyes turn to glass. She locks her grip around the animal’s ears and tugs, snapping its head backward.

CRACK! The sound of splintered bone ricochets through the clearing.

The lepus thrashes in her grasp for a few seconds and then hangs limp.

Ophelia turns to us, beaming. “I’m so starved. Let’s eat!” She giggles.

After watching her expertly decapitate the animal, slice into its back legs, rip the skin off, plunge the blade deep into its lower abdomen, and carve up to the rib cage and pelvis with the precision of a surgeon, I’m suddenly not too hungry anymore.

Instead, I help Cypress gather a mixed bundle of grass, twigs, and bark. Digory and Gideon ignite it by using a sharp rock as a flint, until the kindle becomes a roaring blaze that we can cook the meat over.

We splay out around the campfire, and I’m just about to grab a piece of meat when a movement in the thicket catches my eye.

I freeze.

Someone’s standing no more than a couple of yards away, peering out from behind a large, dead tree. A dark silhouette but for twin pools of firelight swirling in the eyes.

My heart jams up my throat.

“What’s the matter?” Digory asks.

I jab a finger toward the tree. “There’s someone over there!”

I spring to my feet and make a run for it, but Digory races after me and grabs my arm. “Careful! Look at the pylons. We’re at the sonic fence perimeter, remember?”

He’s right.

The tree’s barren limbs continue to sway, casting shadows on the massive columns like skeletal fingers, curling and beckoning.

The figure’s gone.

“There was someone there … ” I whisper.

Digory’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “It’s okay. We’re all very tired and stressed-”

I grab his hand and tear it away. “ Don’t … patronize … me! ”

“Lucian-”

But I whirl before he can finish and tromp back to the campfire, kicking up flurries of earth in my wake before dropping cross-legged near Cypress. I can’t even tell the difference between the heat generated from the roaring blaze and that which boils my blood.

He feels sorry for me …

Gideon leans forward. “I’m sure you did see something, Spark. This place is crawling with Imps watching our every move, keeping tallies on our progress, making sure we don’t try and desert.”

“I’m sure that’s exactly all it was,” Ophelia squeaks, linking an arm around Gideon’s and squeezing.

Cypress clears her throat. “I think Spark saw something else.”

Of all the things I thought she’d say, that wasn’t one of them. “You do?”

Green fire dances in her eyes. “I think it was one of the Lost Recruits.”

“Excuse me?” Ophelia interrupts. “Did one of the Recruits get lost?” Her index finger bobs at each one of us in turn. “Hmmm. I counted five. I think we’re all accounted-”

“She’s referring to the Fallen Five,” Digory announces. He plunks down on the opposite side of the circle from me.

“But they’re just a myth, right?” I cast my eyes around the campfire. “I mean, they’re not real … are they?”

Cypress bites her lip. “Oh, they’re real.”

I remember hearing the story of the Fallen Five from Cassius when I wasn’t much older than Cole. He used to say that they’d come for us in the middle of the night and whisk us away from our beds if we weren’t careful. The thing is, on many of those endless nights, while my folks slaved away in the mines, I cowered in my cot, hungry and cold, and prayed that they would.

Is Cole thinking the same thing now?

Ophelia’s eyes twinkle. “Looks like I’m the only one who’s never heard of these Falling Five.”

“ Fallen ,” Gideon corrects her. “The Fallen Five.”

She giggles. “Sorry. So where exactly did they fall from?”

Digory tosses a twig in the flames. “The Fallen Five were a quintet of Recruits drafted on Recruitment Day, just like we were. Ten years ago.”

Ophelia bounces on the sand. “So by fallen you mean that they all fell , as in failed, during the Trials, and no one was promoted that year, is that right?”

“Partially,” Digory responds. “No one was promoted that year because no one ever made it to the Trials.”

Ophelia frowns. “I don’t understand. What happened to them?”

“They vanished,” I say. “All five of them. Without a trace. Shortly after arriving at Infiernos.”

She glances at the tree, then hugs her knees. “M-maybe they had an accident and were lost-”

“They were on an FTX just like we are now,” Digory continues. “Their packs and supplies were found. Everything was intact … except for them.”

She shakes her head. “It’s just a story meant to frighten children! That’s all!”

“It seems to be working,” Cypress mutters.

Gideon folds his arms. “You know, I just thought about something that hasn’t crossed my mind in years. When I was six, my folks and I lived next door to a family whose daughter was recruited. Tasha Gillespie, her name was. I was pretty young at the time, but I remember being scared when she just disappeared and never came home. I thought she’d done something terrible and her parents had sent her away. I couldn’t sleep for weeks, afraid the same thing was going to happen to me. That was ten years ago. Maybe she was one of the Fallen Five … ”

“I think the Establishment murdered them,” Digory says. His words are a needle that weaves an icy thread around the ring. “They probably found out one of the Establishment’s many secrets and were silenced before they could expose it, like everyone always is.”

I lean in. “Sssh! Careful, Digory,”

Cypress yawns. “I think you’re all giving the Fallen Five too much credit.” Her gaze pierces Ophelia. “They weren’t lost in some pathetic Field Training Exercise.” Next she fixes on Gideon with a glaze of contempt. “Nor was it some terrible punishment by their parents.” Finally, she turns to skewer Digory with her eyes. “And they weren’t martyrs , sacrificing their lives to the Establishment for the good of our society.”