Steven Santos - The Culling

I get no response. For a moment I’m afraid he’s no longer with me, that I’m lugging around a mere shell of what was once a vital living being. My legs buckle from the dead weight. I stumble but somehow manage to stay on my feet, even though my pace slows to little more than a brisk walk.

Part of me is tempted to glance behind, check on Ophelia, but I don’t dare risk one more second of delay.

I’m almost there …

Just across the finish line, Digory’s eyes widen. I can’t tell what his finger’s pointing at.

A glint of light. I look down at a small metal disk camouflaged by weeds.

Digory’s hands cup the sides of his mouth. “Lucian! Look out for the-

BLAM!

Thousands of hot needles pierce my side. It’s as if a giant invisible hand has batted me aside, tossing me at least five feet backward. The miner is wrenched free from my hold, and my tailbone smacks into the dirt with a thud . Another jolt rips up my spine. When I try to stand, I can’t feel the difference between my right and left legs and I wobble, smacking back down on the hard earth. I try to brace myself with my right hand, but that same cross-wired sensation hits me and my left hand spasms instead. I topple over.

“Nerve scrambler!” Digory cries. “It’s jumbled your neural pathways!” His voice sounds like it’s coming from the bottom of a well. “The disorientation will pass in a few. Just breathe slowly. Focus on my voice … you can do this.”

My eyes feel like driftwood, bobbing further and further into an endless horizon. Maybe if I just rest for a few minutes …

“Lucian!” Digory’s voice echoes through the depths of my numbness, pulling me back up to the surface. “You need to hold it together. There isn’t much time.”

The urgency in his voice snaps me back. My eyes spring open. There’s only one reason his voice would be tinged with fear.

Willing my mixed-up nerves to obey, I take a deep breath and force my head to twist so I can see behind me.

Ophelia’s still a distance away. The poor survivor’s still wedged a little less than halfway into the debris. Even if she pulled the girl out right now, there’s no way Ophelia will be able to carry her and make it back before me.

But Ophelia’s given up on trying to pull the girl free. Instead, using one hand, she’s stretching out the wriggling girl’s arm, the one wearing the beacon.

In her other hand, Ophelia clutches a mangled piece of metal debris that glints in the harsh artificial light. Even from here, I can see its rusted, jagged edges.

Ophelia raises the hand that’s holding the makeshift tool high overhead-

“Help me! Please , help me!” the girl shrieks, over and over again until her cries are nothing but garbled noise that barely resembles anything human.

“ Don’t stop, keep moving,” Digory urges.

But I can’t tear my eyes away.

Darkness eclipses the whites of Ophelia’s eyes. With a long, guttural wail, she plunges the makeshift blade across the girl’s forearm.

I wince.

The screams die out.

The girl’s lifeless body slumps over-all except for her right hand. Detached from the rest of her, the appendage is now a grisly stump, clutched by Ophelia and crying bloody tears onto the face of its former owner.

The blinking green of the beacon reflects off Ophelia’s eyes and teeth, the only parts of her not covered in gore.

Our eyes meet.

She glares for an instant. Then she’s dashing toward me, heading for the safety zone, waving the glistening shiv.

“C’mon, Martino! We gotta go!” Grabbing the miner, I pull us both to our feet and half-carry, half-drag him along.

“You got this, Lucian!” Digory’s voice is like a balm to my aching muscles and spirit.

Despite the hammering in my chest and the pain in my starving lungs, I lunge forward.

Digory’s holding his hand out just over the line and I reach for it-

Fire blasts into my leg. Digory’s eyes bug. Then his fingers, which were barely an inch in front of me, are suddenly moving away. A blurry wind grazes my side. Then I crash to the ground, letting go of the miner’s hands.

I feel dizzy, like I’m going to pass out. Was it another taser mine or neural scrambler, so close to the finish line?

My leg continues to burn. I have to get up before Ophelia-where is she? Is she still gaining? But there’s no one behind me.

The source of the fire is a chunk of metal lodged in my left thigh.

Ophelia gazes at me from the other side of the finish line. She’s giggling, dancing around triumphantly, taunting me with the amputated limb.

Digory shoves her aside. “ What did you do to him ?” he cries. He tries to step over the line but his locator flares bright yellow and his face contorts until he doubles over.

So they rigged the locators with pain inducers, for just such an attempt.

My heart thrashes my rib cage. I drop to my knees. I was so close.

And now Digory’s going to die because of me.

“Lucian!” he calls. But his voice sounds like it’s miles away instead of just a few feet. “How bad did she hurt you? Damn it! Answer me!”

I slump on my side. I can’t bring myself to look at him any longer, afraid I won’t be able to hold it together. Instead, I focus on my leg, watching the blood ooze from the edges of the metal but unable to feel a thing.

The thought penetrates my stupor. I grip the shank so hard it slices my fingers. Still I feel nothing. Taking a deep breath, I rip it out and fling it away. If only I could do the same to my heart.

A moan to my left. The miner. He’s still alive. Maybe I could do one good thing and get him to safety before I end Digory’s life with my choice.

I stumble toward Martino and grip his arms again. But I’m too weak. I close my eyes to get my bearings. Take your time. After all, there’s no reason to rush anymore. And the longer I take to cross this line, the longer it’ll be before I cross that line and give up what’s left of my humanity forever.

I drag the miner a couple of more feet and drop. My pant leg is soaked. It reminds me of the wine Cassius spilled back in the Prefect’s antechamber, back before … before I realized that the terrible infection had set into him.

My vision doubles. Two bloody legs instead of one. I try to focus. Maybe Ophelia did her job too efficiently and infection is already settling into me as well.

I don’t think I can go on. They’ll have to carry me across. I chuckle. Hope they don’t mind me making my choice from a stretcher. My eyes feel weighted down. Maybe I’ll feel better if I can just sleep for a few …

A shadow falls over me.

I look up. A dark shape is holding out a hand to me. Digory? How did he get past the pain sensors?

I open my eyes wider and let them adjust.

It’s not Digory. It’s Gideon.

How’s that possible? Did I pass out without realizing it and wake up on the other side of the barrier? I look past him. Digory, Cypress, and Ophelia are still standing across the finish line with their rescued survivors lying behind them. But then that would mean-

I bolt up and allow Gideon to pull me to my feet. “You haven’t gone across yet?” I ask.

He half smiles. “No. Not yet.” He nods toward an old woman who’s slumped a foot away from the line, her tracker blinking in harmony to his. “After you .”

Adrenaline surges through me. I grab the miner once again and start for the finish line. I can still do this. I freeze in my tracks and whirl to face Gideon. “ Why ?”

His pulls off his glasses and wipes his eyes. “I’m not sure.”