Steven Santos - The Culling

“Then what happened to them?” I challenge her.

She turns to me and I brace for what’s coming. But instead of dripping with mockery, her eyes are pools of emerald bitterness. “They were deserters, cowards, nothing more.”

Her words stun me. I can’t conceive of the implications of what she’s saying. Any notions of fleeing I’ve ever had are quashed when I think about Cole and how he’s depending on me to come through.

“Cypress, deserters aren’t just risking their own lives,” I say. “Their Incentives … anyone they leave behind … they’re all subject to punishment. That’s why we’re all here. How could anyone do what you’re suggesting?”

Her eyes drop to her lap. “How could he ?” she whispers. A shaky hand swipes across her face. Then she bolts to her feet and marches into one of the shelters, throwing the flaps open and disappearing inside.

For a few minutes, nobody says anything. We just stare at each other across the crackling flames, watching the shadows dance across the orange glow on our faces.

Who is she talking about?

“Do you really think the Fallen Five were murdered?” I finally ask Digory. “Cypress seems certain they’re alive. But if they are alive and hiding out, why haven’t any of the Recruits over the last nine years caught a glimpse of them?”

“Yes, I do believe the Establishment killed them,” Digory answers. “But if by some miracle Cypress is right, there’s a very good reason none of the other Recruits has ever seen them.”

Adrenaline revs my heart.

“What is it?” Gideon asks.

Digory tosses more twigs into the fire. “After they disappeared, the Establishment moved the Trials to another base-whether this was done to cover up evidence or prevent it from happening again, that’s open to debate.”

“But the location of the Trials has always been kept secret! How would you know-?” I stop myself. His connections within the rebellion … “I understand.”

He nods. “If Cypress is right, we may get our chance to solve the mystery of the Fallen Five.”

Ophelia rubs her arms. “Why’s that?”

He looks around. “This year”-he lowers his voice-“the Establishment decided to return the Trials to the original venue.”

My eyes open wide. “You mean-?”

“We’re the first to return. That’s why they installed those pylons around Infiernos. Whatever happened to the Fallen Five, it happened right outside that sonic fence.”

I glance back at the narrow path creeping into the jungle. It’s framed by a canopy of interlocking branches that resemble gnarled fingers clasped together in dark prayer. A wisp of mist curls forth like a dying breath. I hug myself, trying to rub some feeling back into my marble skin.

It’s the last night before we’re set to begin Phase Three, the final stage of our training before the Trials begin. I’m on adrenaline overload and can’t sleep.

A groggy Gideon trudges into the barracks in the middle of the night and taps me on the shoulder. “You’re up,” he grunts before collapsing onto his cot. For the first time, I’m grateful to be on CQ duty.

In no time at all, I’ve slipped into my uniform and out the door, briskly walking the perimeter of the barracks, trying to burn up the anxiety churning through me. I plow through my rounds in record time. Along the way I encounter pockets of soldiers making supply runs, performing maintenance checks on vehicles, packing up equipment. In each instance, they look haggard, as if they’ve been pulling double shifts. A couple of times they drop their voices to a whisper as I walk by, as if I cared what secrets they harbor. When I’m done, I’m still jumpy with nervous energy and decide to jog up the three-hundred-plus steps to the top of the circular Observation Tower.

Even though I’m breathing heavily by the time I arrive at the top, I can’t help but think how much more stamina I’ve built up during my training. Six weeks ago I’d have probably passed out after about a hundred steps.

Six weeks. Seems like a lifetime.

From up here, I have a moonlit view of all of Infiernos. About fifty yards ahead of me, at the base’s front perimeter, the sea crashes against the shoreline. Further down the beach, I can just make out the cove hiding the bay where the freighter docked on our arrival. Behind me and on either side, the complex stretches several miles inland-the giant dome, the other barracks, the training fields, the landing strips, the officers’ quarters-all surrounded by the massive pillars of the sonic fences, which occasionally spark when some unfortunate animal veers too close.

I strain my eyes, trying to make out what lies beyond the base, but even in the moonlight I can’t see anything through the darkness and haze. For a moment I wonder if we’re actually on an island at all … maybe we’re on a peninsula, and, if so, what is it connected to?

I turn my head back toward the ocean and lean over the railing, gulping a lungful of salty air from the rippling black sea, allowing it to wash away the mustiness of the barracks. I haven’t felt this invigorated in months-ever since Cassius’s betrayal.

Above, millions of stars blanket the night sky. Back home at the Parish, I don’t remember ever seeing so many of them, what with the smog from the Industrial Borough clogging up our skies. It’s beautiful and mysterious all at once. If I tilt my head at just the right angle, to block out my surroundings, it’s as though I’m floating in space, which seems about right.

I’ve never felt so far away from everything I’ve ever known.

Movement behind me.

Despite the roaring of the wind, I can hear my heartbeat. My grip tightens on the railing. Maybe I won’t live to compete in the trials after all. Maybe Cassius is planning to assassinate me before I get the chance to have my revenge.

I whip around.

Digory’s lips are curved in a dazzling smile, reflecting the moon’s gleam that surrounds him in a halo. His hair shimmers like liquid gold.

My muscles relax.

He holds his palms up, his eyes mirroring my surprise. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I called out your name, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”

I smile back. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Couldn’t sleep. Just like you.”

I nod. “It seems everyone’s been tense lately. And not only about the Trials. Have you noticed all the anxious looks, and the whispering? I’m not just talking Slade and the other officers-the enlisted are looking pretty wired, especially those recon units.”

“I’ve noticed. And we’re not the only ones-Cypress mentioned it too, and so did Gideon. Something’s definitely up.”

The black jumpsuit I’m wearing is made of thin material, hardly protection against the chilly night biting into my flesh and making my teeth chatter.

“Here, take this.” Digory removes the jacket he’s wearing and wraps it around me.

I try to give it back to him, but his hands hold it firmly on my shoulders. “What about you ?” I ask.

His grin captures the starlight. “I’ll be all right. I’m pretty cold-blooded.”

He means it as a joke, but I can’t help but wonder what he’s capable of when the time comes to defend his people during the trials.

What I’m capable of.

Silent minutes flutter away into the night. This is the first time we’ve really been alone since arriving at Infiernos. I brace myself for some well-meaning questions or comments about stuff I really don’t want to talk about.

Instead, Digory tugs up the jacket’s collar around my neck and nudges his face toward the sky. “I can’t believe how many stars there are up there.”