Steven Santos - The Culling

I rub my arms, trying in vain to warm my body. “We’re looking for a missing recon patrol from that wrecked troop carrier,” I tell him. “Do you know where they are?”

Drool seeps from the corner of his lips. “They’re right here ,” he whispers. “All around us … listening to everything we say … ”

Digory and I crane our necks in every direction.

“There’s no one else here,” Digory says.

“There sure as hell is!” the man snaps. He digs into the mound he was hiding behind and pulls something out, thrusting it in front of our faces.

A severed arm.

I stare in revulsion at the pale flesh, which seems to be relatively intact. Fresh. At least in appearance if not in odor. The fingers are curled inward, clutching something gold-a pin, from the looks of it. Clamping a hand over my nose and mouth, I lean in and yank the object free.

It’s an Imposer badge. I can’t read the first name because it’s coated in something dark and sticky. But the last name hits me like a sonic pulse.

“ Cordoba . The commander of the missing recon patrol.” I force the words through clenched teeth and look up as I hand the badge to Digory.

“Looks like we have our proof.” His eyes are somber as he tucks the badge into his pocket. “Whoever or whatever did this has Slade and the others running scared.”

“It isn’t a Sim,” I whisper. “It isn’t a Sim…”

Just above the grisly wrist the Recruit is still holding out to me, there’s a semicircle of indentations separated by small spaces. The pattern is almost perfect, except for a jagged slash at its center.

Bite marks.

I look back up. The fallen Recruit’s staring at me, licking his lips, mouth once again upturned in a foam-coated grin … proudly displaying his chipped front tooth.

The crackle of my walkie nearly gives me a heart attack.

“There’s something coming!” I hear Gideon shriek through the speaker. “We gotta go. Now !”

“The Fleshers,” I whisper.

A tremor rocks the basin.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.” Digory grabs my hand and pulls me away from the mound.

In the distance, dark shadows flit among the hives of bone like marauding insects, nibbling their way toward our position as we scramble toward the carrier.

Another powerful rumble rocks the ground, the deep bass of a siren that vibrates through the canyon like the cry of some prehistoric beast, followed by a series of clanks and grinds from some poorly oiled machine, mixed with sickening wet squishes and a clatter … like snapping teeth.

We run nearly smack into Gideon and Ophelia.

“Where’s Cypress?” I gasp out.

“Probably already at the ship, getting ready to take off without us.” Gideon jabs a finger past us. “What the hell are those things?”

Ophelia’s eyes bulge. “The Five.”

I shake my head. “Sounds more like five thousand .”

Digory pushes us forward. “We’re not sticking around long enough to find out!”

That siren blasts louder than ever and a big blur of creepy bursts through the hives just ahead, cutting us off from the carrier.

“Take cover!” Digory shouts.

I dive to the ground and roll behind the nearest mound, pressing close to it so whoever or whatever it is can’t spot me. Jagged bones pierce the skin on my back. My heart punches the walls of my chest. A drought hits my mouth. I try to slow my breathing so I won’t pass out.

The mechanical noise putters throughout the canyon. Rusty gears clink together, screeching in protest. At first it seems further away; then it gets closer and closer. I hug my almost bare torso against the chill. The thing must be making a sweep. What is it about that sound that gnaws at my memory?

Then it hits me. Back at the Parish. Walking home from school past the Borough’s processing plants-

It’s the sound the meat grinders make during a particularly sparse season.

The sound creeps nearer. It’s just on the other side of the mound I’m curled behind. My eyes squeeze shut.

Whirrrrrrrrrrr …

Clackclackclackclackclack …

My body’s clenched so tight it feels like my own bones are about to pop from their sockets.

Why won’t it go away?

It knows I’m here …

The grinding noise clacks off, replaced by a nauseating sloshing.

Slopslopslop …

A light flicks on, bathing my peripheral vision in a sickly yellow glow.

Another loud click adds a new sound to the assault on my senses.

Buzz!

The vibration is so strong, it hurts my teeth and I have to gnash them tight to prevent a telltale chatter. Not daring to breathe, I slink further around the mound, before the thing can reach me. I’m not sure how big it is, but if I can keep moving out of sight I just might be able to-

My belt loop snags on a piece of bone.

The yellow beam creeps around the bend. Silhouetted in the shadow of its glow are twisted shapes that look like they’ve been ripped free of a nightmare.

I claw at the loop, trying to jerk it free, but it won’t budge.

The amber light burns a path toward me, just inches from my boots …

I twist my body out of its path, curling my legs beneath me just as the glow sweeps the spot my feet occupied moments ago. My fingers grope the jagged bone holding me hostage, scraping against it and drawing blood, which just makes it slick and harder to grip.

Snapsnapsnapsnapsnap …

I tug as hard as I can-

Pop!

The loop rips away. I’m free! I scuttle further around the bend on hands and knees, ignoring sharp rocks digging into my skin. In my panic, my boot kicks out behind me and crashes through the mound.

A loud rattle of bone rains down all around me.

A very loud rattle.

A mechanized shriek pierces my eardrums. The grotesque confirmation that the Fleshers are on to me. I clamp my hands to my ears.

Whir …

Clacketyclacketyclacketyclacketyclackety …

The rhythm of the sounds is much quicker now, and loud enough to penetrate the ringing in my ears.

Something grabs me-

“Run!” Digory hauls me to my feet and then we’re racing after Gideon and Ophelia.

We tear through the canyon, careening past the rest of the mounds, zigzagging over rocks, leaping over fissures. Swirls of blinding yellow and twisting black haunt the corners of my vision. They’re all around us, swarming over the mounds like locusts, but I’m too afraid to turn and get a better look, too afraid to see what kind of monsters would be responsible for this hell, would make a fallen Recruit crave flesh …

Too afraid to find out if what happened to the lost Recruits could happen to me.

I stumble down a slope after Digory and Ophelia, rolling, my flesh scraping against rock and bone. But I’m running on pure adrenaline now, impervious to pain.

I skirt the next mound-

Just in time to see the troop carrier taking off without us.

“The bitch is leaving us behind!” Gideon cries.

The dark shadows close in on us from all sides.

It’s over.

Then the carrier banks, swinging in a wide arc until it’s hovering just overhead. The hatchway springs open and a familiar silhouette stares down at us, long raven hair whipping in the wind.

Cypress tosses down a rope ladder, which wriggles down like a long snake, grazing my skin as it sways against my nose. I recoil.

“Don’t just stand there like idiots!” Cypress shrieks. “Get your butts up here now!”

“Ophelia!” Gideon cries.

But Digory’s already scampering up the rope and towing him along. “She’s in good hands with Spark.” He pauses and shoots me a desperate look. “Lucian! Move! Now!” Then the two of them disappear inside the carrier’s open hatch.