Steven Santos - The Culling

Drag. Squish. Drag. Squish …

“ Leave. Me. Alone .” I whirl to get away from her.

There’s someone standing at the far end of the corridor, facing me.

I cast a beam of light in that direction, and even though I can’t make out a face, I can make out a form. A familiar form. The form of a little boy.

“Cole?” The name quavers in the air. My heart swells. Can it really be?

The figure doesn’t respond. Then it darts around the corner.

The aching of my entire being propels my wobbling legs after him. “Cole! Is that you? Don’t be afraid! It’s me !”

“ You can’t outrun your past ,” Mrs. Bledsoe’s voice yelps after me.

I’m sprinting now, the beam from my flashlight zigzagging ahead of me, my pounding heartbeat trying to drown out my panting breaths. I hug the walls for support against the dizziness that throws me off balance as I chase Cole down winding corridors, darting left, banking right, ignoring any number of supplies along the way, ignoring the shuffling and dragging of Mrs. Bledsoe nipping at my heels. The only thing that matters is Cole. I’ve got to find him. Make him understand that I didn’t leave him … that it’s not my fault … that without him, there’s nothing left to live for …

“Cole! Wait! Why are you afraid of me?” I rasp the words in between the painful breaths that I squeeze from my lungs. My eyes blur with wet stings, making the pathway ahead a dizzying array of streaking light and swooshing movement spiraling out of control.

Careening around another corner, I almost crash into the figure. He’s standing just a few feet away, on a ledge, with nothing but gray sky ahead of him. I brace against the wall to break my momentum so we both don’t go over the edge-gasping for air, burning with fever, exhausted. But despite this, I feel better than I have in months. Cool relief douses the fire of my sickness.

It’s finally over. I found him at last.

His back is still toward me, but I recognize his shock of fine hair, glistening almost like a halo, the same as Mrs. Bledsoe’s skin. It must be the fever distorting my vision. Cole is dressed in the same baggy clothes he was wearing the day I got recruited, right down to the scuffed brown shoe with the tattered laces. They never even got him a change of clothes, after all this time? He’s clutching something in his hand. Weathered parchment pages. It’s the story of the Lady. I recognize the missing corner on the page. But Cassius torched those pages right in front of our eyes …

Am I so far gone that my memories are now haunting me, intermingling with my reality?

I push the inconsistencies from my head, aching to wrap my little brother in my arms once again, tell him he’s safe at last.

I swallow a sob. “Cole. It’s okay, buddy. I’m here.” All it takes is just a few steps to finally bridge the once enormous gap that separated us. I reach for his shoulder-

Without uttering a word or even looking at me, he steps off the ledge and plummets away …

“No!” I leap forward even as my heart leaps into my throat, jamming there. My belly smacks the hard floor, knocking the wind from me. I slide the rest of the way, until my torso’s hanging over the edge. “Cole!” My eyes search the bleak landscape far below. It’s lined with jagged spikes, jutting upward like a gigantic pincushion. My heartbreak turns to confusion.

Where is he? His body should be lying there, impaled like one of those beautiful butterflies in one of the science labs at the Instructional Facility.

But there’s no trace of him. He’s gone, as if he never existed.

Did he ever really?

I can’t hold back the sobs any longer. “Please don’t go … ”

Drag. Squish. Drag. Squish.

“You can’t save him,” Mrs. Bledsoe’s voice rasps behind me.

I’m too numb to be startled.

“And you can’t save yourself,” she adds. “Just let go, son. Join him. It’ll be over a lot quicker than it was for me.” Her voice crackles like live wires in my ears. “You’re running out of time. Make your choice.”

Choice. That’s what this whole Recruitment’s been about.

I edge a little closer to the brink.

Maybe she’s right.

And though I’m not even sure I really saw Cole, there was a time I wouldn’t have hesitated to follow him into the void. But this is bigger than just us now. I finally understand what Digory had tried to tell me when we met. I’m not really saving Cole if I’m condemning him to live in a world that allows these things to happen-encourages them to happen.

I actually don’t really have a choice at all.

The empty vessel of my body is suddenly overflowing with a sense of purpose, even more so than when my face flashed on the jumbotrons on Recruitment Day. I have to keep going not only so I can save my own little brother, but so that no one else will ever have to save anyone they love-their sisters, mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, friends- anyone -

Digory’s face flashes in my mind’s eye.

I pull away from the ledge and climb to my feet.

Cassius and his techs have been preying on my fear and guilt. None of this is real. Not Cole. Not Mrs. Bledsoe.

Taking a deep breath, I turn to face my accuser.

Mrs. Bledsoe continues to stare at me with blank eyes, an occasional trickle of blood oozing from her lips. It’s as though she’s hovering rather than standing.

“I’m going to make you pay for what happened to me,” she whispers. She staggers forward, groping for me. But I’m no longer afraid and walk right up to her. I take a deep breath as her gnarled hands ripple like water, passing right through me.

Once I’m past her, I whip my flashlight to the corner of the ceiling. There, on a narrow track, I glimpse a tell-tale pinprick of yellow light beaming down.

The shimmering halos. The static. The truncated speech. It wasn’t the byproduct of infection spreading within me, it was holograms. Just like a part of me suspected from the beginning.

I almost laugh aloud. I guess I passed their test by deciding not to off myself.

Mrs. Bledsoe-the projection masquerading as her-turns and smiles again. “It doesn’t matter. You’re too late … son. You’ll never find your way back now.”

Mrs. Bledsoe flickers and disappears, just like Cole did.

My eyes dart to my chronometer.

00:01:48

Less than two minutes to go.

The holograms were all a trick to derail me from the exit, and I was stupid enough to fall for it.

But they were triggered when I found that one corridor-which probably means it leads to the exit. How can I trace my way back again, with such little time left?

My flashlight illuminates the bloody handprints I left on the walls.

I dash back the way I came, whipping my light back and forth until I find the next crimson marker, and the next, speeding my way back down twisting hallways and sharp corners, allowing my own blood to guide me toward salvation.

I risk a glance at my watch.

00:00:59

A couple of times I have to double back when I miss a print or it’s too faded to see clearly. My heart’s beating so fast it feels like it’s going to rupture. And the intermittently shifting walls aren’t helping matters.

I lurch around the next bend. This is it! I recognize this corridor. It’s the same one where the image of Mrs. Bledsoe first appeared. It has to be the way out.

The walls start to shift again …

Springing across the remaining few feet, I smash against the floor and slide the rest of the way, through a gap in the wall, just as a buzzer goes off and the wall slides shut behind me.

I grab my wrist.

00:00:00

Looks like I made it.