Steven Santos - The Culling

Unless you drop dead from exhaustion or disease first.

The Trials shall continue until there is only one remaining Recruit with at least one viable Incentive. That Recruit shall earn a place in the elite Imposer training program.

If you’re fortunate enough to have any surviving family when this is all over, you’ll live out the rest of your days in servitude to the monster.

Any questions?

The sounds in the elevator are a mix of clearing throats, grunts, and muttered nays.

Another jolt and the car grinds to a halt.

I can’t swallow.

A slot by the doors springs open to reveal five black bands, each encompassing some kind of metal device.

You will each take a locator and place it around your wrist before exiting and awaiting further instructions.

One by one, we reach in without saying a word or making eye contact and pull out a locator, clamping them around our wrists like manacles.

The doors tear open-

And my eyes nearly leap from their sockets.

A vast field spreads out before us, strewn with smoking debris and collapsed buildings, simulating a war zone. Countless bodies litter the horizon, sprawled out in contorted poses-just more gritty scenery in this horrific mock-up.

It can’t be real.

Except these bodies are twitching and writhing, filling the air with a chorus of moans that no actor or automaton could ever imitate so convincingly. The wails penetrate deep and cover every inch of my skin with goose flesh.

Where did all these people come from?

But I know the answer without having to be told: they’re our friends and neighbors from the Parish, the innocents dragged from their homes in the dead of night to be questioned under the flimsiest of evidence, never to be seen nor heard from again. People with families just like ours, reduced to grisly props.

You will now take your places at the edge of the battle zone, just behind the energy barrier at the amber starting line.

Following Slade’s instructions, I trudge toward the starting line just outside the crackling energy barrier. Filing after Gideon, Cypress, and Ophelia, I take my place beside Digory at the far end.

Cypress sighs. “All those people … ”

“ Them ?” Ophelia whimpers. “What about us ? I mean they’re just lying around. Why haven’t we started yet?” She’s bouncing from one foot to the other. “I can’t take much more of this waiting! Mama and Maddie are counting on me. If I don’t come home soon, Mama’ll get all flustered with Maddie and-”

“ Shut up , Ophelia,” Digory mutters.

Her jaw drops.

“Digory’s right,” I say. “It’s not all about you.”

Ophelia glares at us, then whirls on Cypress and Gideon. “You two were there last night. You saw . You heard .” Her finger stabs at Digory and me. “These two are in this together .”

“That’s not true,” I hurl back.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Digory says.

Ophelia’s eyes pounce on him. “Interesting, but the fact is, you are not to be trusted. You’ll turn on anyone- use anyone-to get what you want. After all, for someone who’s married, you seem a lot more concerned with the welfare of Lucian Spark.”

Her words sting. Last night floods my brain. She’s right. He is married.

I move aside, leaving a wider gap between myself and Digory.

Ophelia’s eyes dart between Gideon and Cypress like a predator’s. “Tycho and Spark have each other’s backs and will sabotage our chances while we’re forced to fend for ourselves … unless we band together and stop them. It’s our only chance. We have the majority.”

Gideon and Cypress glance at each other. They don’t say a word, but I can already see the gears spinning in their eyes. She’s getting to them.

The Trials have barely gotten underway and the paranoia’s already poisoning everyone’s minds.

Attention Recruits. At the end of the countdown, the first leg of the Trials shall commence.

On a screen on the far side of the carnage, a digital clock’s already hacking away at the precious seconds before this nightmare gets underway.

One minute and thirty seconds … twenty-nine seconds … twenty-eight seconds …

Your task is simple. You must proceed across the battle zone to the safety zone on the other side.

Across the way, a yellow beacon flashes in time with my ragged breaths.

Scattered throughout this containment area, random collaterals have been fitted with beacon bracelets that match the individual frequencies of the locator wristlets you all now wear.

I study the locator that’s snug around my wrist. Random collaterals ? What the hell does Slade mean by random col-?

A few feet ahead of me, just past the starting line, a glint of metal on the wrist of one of the writhing bodies catches my eye. My eyes dart through the field. From what I can see, they all are wearing beacon bracelets-the wounded, the sick, the dying …

The Establishment’s random collaterals.

My own locator feels like it’s cutting off the circulation in my hand.

If you come across one that’s a match, a green signal will confirm it and you must transport that beacon to the safety zone on the other side.

In unison, our five wrists blink green.

If you come across a beacon that’s not a match, you will receive a red signal and must continue your search.

Our wrists flash bright red before going dark again.

You are free to utilize any tools or equipment you find along the way to accomplish this goal, but we caution that you may encounter certain variables in your mission, such as taser mines, nerve scramblers, stun rifles, pain inducers …

Variables. Slade’s sterile word for booby traps and who knows what else …

The object of this Search and Retrieve Trial is to collect your one matching beacon and transport it to the safety zone. You will commence the next Trial in the order you finish this one. The last Recruit to collect his or her beacon must partake in the Culling and choose between his or her Incentives.

Incentives. Cole-and now Digory. I glance at him. He’s as pale as stone. Even the tide in his sea-blue eyes has ebbed. His eyes meet mine and I look away. There’s no question who I’d choose first. But despite everything that’s happened between us, I can’t even think of letting it get to that point. And I have to make sure Digory doesn’t falter either, or Cole’s as good as gone. Cassius has really linked our fates with his chains.

Good Luck, Recruits. Until we reconvene at the next launch point.

Slade’s voice fades and the lights grow dim …

The starting siren blasts away.

Air rushes around me. Someone slams into my shoulder, knocking me across the starting line. My eyes saucer as I brace myself for the blast of the energy barrier. But the only impact is my face thudding against the hard earth. I look up in time to see Ophelia smirk before sprinting off into the fray.

I spit blood and spring to my feet, ignoring the spasms in my wobbly legs.

A hand grabs my shoulder.

I whirl into Digory’s gaze. “You okay?” he asks.

I tear away from his grasp. “I’m fine .”

Then I’m off, wading through a sea of bodies. I gag at the stench. The entire place reeks of blood, festering wounds, and death.

Clenching a palm over my nose and mouth, I squat over the first body I come across, a teenaged guy not more than a year or two younger than I am. His scraggly dark hair is matted to his ashen face. The whites of his eyes are visible through half-opened lids. The beacon’s draped over the wrist of a bony hand, which is pressed against a gurgling wound in his abdomen as if trying to keep something from spilling out.