The Gamble
Kathryn Jacques
Copyright © 2020 Kathryn Jacques
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456
Cover design by: Katie Rasinski
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America
For my two wonderful daughters, always remember that you choose who you become.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY- NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
Acknowledgement
About The Author
Books By This Author
“Isn’t it funny how we live inside the lies we believe?”- A.S. King
CHAPTER ONE
Year 2135
Republic of the Continuation (ROC)
In my entire life, all I have ever wanted is to see the sky. I’ve read hundreds of books and stories that detail the vastness of the soaring space overhead. I’ve seen thousands of pictures of a world painted beautiful, brilliant shades of cerulean and emerald and bright yellow, with fluffy white clouds and giant trees and dazzling rainbow sunsets that look like their own sort of magic.
We learn about the surface in our lessons, about what life used to be like in what we now call the Unoccupied Zone. About how people wandered around outside, drove cars, hiked through the woods, traveled to far off countries. I often find myself jealous of the billions of people who were once lucky enough to live up there and gaze at the sky every day. I want to see it for myself, even for just a moment.
But that will never happen. Not for me or anyone else here in ROC, which everyone calls the Occupied Zone or the O.Z. for short. It’s the only habitable place left on earth. The 50,000 of us here, the very last of the human race, we will never know anything other than this subterranean world of grey concrete and cold metal and darkness.
I really hate the darkness.
* * *
“Hey,” a familiar voice calls. Turning my head, I’m surprised to see Rey peek around the riveted support column at the corridor intersection. Still dressed in his faded grey coveralls from work, he nearly blends in with the grey walls and metal walkways behind him. The ratty uniform hangs off his long, lanky frame, yet always manages to be a little too short in the arms. He often tugs on them, as if that will help, but instead only leaves the edges of his sleeves frayed and stretched out of shape. Unruly blond hair hangs to his shoulders and looks dirty in the poor hallway light. Several overhead bulbs are out and two more sputter off and on at random, neither of which are that uncommon given the rations in place.
“Rey,” I say with a hint of shock as he strides toward me, his thin lips twisted into an impish smirk. I look nervously at the cameras over my head, knowing he shouldn’t be here and hoping no one is monitoring this late in the afternoon.
Rey offers a reassuring smile and a wink. “It’s ok. They’re broken again. I checked earlier.”
Tagging the page of the book I’m reading, I flick off my tablet, set it aside and lift an eyebrow at Rey. “Is that how you found the cameras earlier?”
Plopping down on the metal bench, causing it to squeak, he stretches his long legs out in front of him, rests his arms along the back of the bench and stares at me with mock offense. “You wound me, dear Kelsey. As your oldest friend in the entire world, you don’t actually think I’d have something to do with the current state of the cameras, do you?”
“Right, because the entire world is so big,” I respond sarcastically. “How about you knock your head back down a few sizes? Besides, I can name at least four other times you’ve messed with the cameras. Like when you snuck out after curfew last year to wander the halls at two o’clock in the morning?”
“Justified. I was bored and wanted to see what this place looks like when everyone’s asleep. For the record, it’s still grey and dismal.”
“Yeah, I’m sure the Gendarme would find boredom a good excuse for breaking the law. You’re lucky you weren’t caught.”
“Alright, fair enough, but no, I didn’t have anything to do with the broken cameras today. Consider it a fortunate coincidence.”
I reach up and ruffle his hair, like silk beneath my fingers. He hates it when anyone else touches his hair, always has, but I can get away with it. “You’re also lucky I’ve known you since we were like, what? Six? I’m used to your nonsense. But you really should be more careful. You have your cousins to think about now. You’re not even supposed to be talking to me let alone sitting in Sector B.”
“But I have something for you,” he announces. From his breast pocket, he produces a wrinkled, white linen napkin. Unwrapping it, he reveals a pink confection in the shape of a flower with white sugary dots speckling its surface.
“A cookie!” I exclaim, taking it into my own hands. “Where did you find a cookie in the subs?”
He snorts. “Like there’d be cookies in the subs. I found it yesterday while I was working on the air ducts in some Sector A suite. Hopefully it hasn’t gone too stale.”
My eyes widen as I stare at him with terrified alarm. “You stole food from an A level suite?”
“I like to think of it as relocating. Yesterday it was in Sector A, today it’s been relocated to your hands.”
“Do you know what would have happened if you got caught?” I hiss, casting a nervous glance down the hall and shielding the cookie from view of anyone who might unexpectedly appear.
He offers a nonchalant shrug and again sits back against the hard bench, one arm draped casually behind me. “Same thing that would happen if I got caught messing with the cameras or sitting here with you. The Gendarme arrest me, charge me with a dozen various crimes and I have to sacrifice my number to the Gamble a few dozen times as punishment.”
“That’s if the Gendarme don’t decide you’re a threat and shoot you on sight.”
“With this angelic face?” Rey asks, holding one hand to his cheek and batting pale eyelashes around his crystal blue eyes. “Look, you want the cookie or not? Cause I’ll happily eat it instead. I’m starving and haven’t had anything sweet in at least a year.”
My lips purse, but arguing with Rey generally proves pointless. “I guess we do need to get rid of the evidence, for your sake. Here, I’ll split it with you.” Breaking the cookie in half, I offer one pie
ce to him. I plop my half in my mouth, taking a moment to savor the sugary sweetness.
Casting a goofy smile, Rey gives me a little salute with one thin, long-fingered hand. “Happy birthday, Kels.”
And like a light switch flicking off a lamp and casting a room into darkness, the lighthearted moment is ruined.
I slump against the bench. “Yeah.” I look down at the black ink that has been tattooed on the inside of my right wrist since the minute I was born; just like everyone in the O.Z; a barcode positioned above a unique ten-digit number: 745- 023- 8901.
“Hey,” Rey says, resting a hand on my shoulder in comfort. “You don’t have much to worry about.”
“This time. But each year our odds will be higher and higher. And that’s assuming neither of us has to sacrifice our number as punishment or sell it for extra food or medical help or whatever else we might need but can’t afford.”
“You’ll never need anything,” he says. Not in the way to sound mean or bitter, but in the way one states a simple fact. Still, it cuts straight to my heart because he’s right. The odds of me ever needing to sell my number for food or supplies or sacrifice it as punishment is about as likely as someone feeling the sun on their face; never going to happen in our lifetimes.
The same isn’t true for Rey. He’s from Sector E. Those in Sector D are basically working poor and anyone in E are far worse. Now that he also cares for his four orphaned cousins in addition to himself, on a salary that’s barely enough for one person, and rations that don’t even cover the basics, he’ll need to sell his number more and more times just to survive. Not to mention the lower Sectors have more laws to follow, and therefore more to break, and their punishments are much harsher because they have no one willing to speak up for them.
I peek at Rey out of the corner of my eye, taking note of his pale skin, sunken eyes and gaunt face. He’s lost more weight. I should have given him my half of the cookie. He needs it more than I do. I bet he didn’t even eat today to make sure his cousins had enough food. With guilt, I turn my gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry. I sound like a brat.”
He touches my arm again and I feel a soft tingle where his fingers rest on my bare skin. It’s happened a lot lately when he touches me, sometimes combined with little butterflies in my stomach and I can’t figure out why because it’s just Rey. I’ve known him for forever. I’m more comfortable with him than anyone else in the O.Z. so these new emotions don’t make any sense.
“Remember what I called you the first day we met?” he asks.
I think back to that day nearly twelve years ago. My father had just hired Rey’s mother, Maeva, to be my tutor and nanny. They moved from Sector E into our suite and lived there until her number was selected in the Gamble five years later. That first day, Rey and I stood staring at each other in the foyer, not sure what to make of one another because he was a Sub and I wasn’t.
“Yeah,” I say, “Prissy Princess Kelsey. Even at the age of six you were a jerk.”
He chuckles. “Yeah. I was the one being a brat. Not you. You have nothing to be sorry for. You never have. Besides, I might have to worry about the Gamble, but you now have your own battles.”
With a sigh, I run my hands through the dark coffee-brown curls tumbling over my shoulders.
“Has your father said anything yet?” Rey asks, as if he can read my thoughts.
“No, but now that I’m eighteen, I imagine it’ll be any day. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be Wyatt Walker, who else? The other Councilmembers’ sons are either too young or already arranged. If it is Wyatt though, I swear I’ll pray my number gets drawn tomorrow. The chambers would be better than spending the rest of my life married to him.”
“He might not be that bad.”
I gawk at Rey with a mixture of shock and disgust. “Wyatt Walker not that bad? This is the same boy that used to knock you into trashcans because he said all Subs are pieces of garbage and that’s where you belonged! The same boy who put roaches in-”
“Woah, hey! I was trying to be positive,” Rey interrupts. “Wyatt Walker is demon spawn and if your father arranges for you to marry him, I’ll happily risk my number a million times to save you.”
With a giggle, I roll my eyes. “And how, Mr. Zuritsky, do you propose to save me from Wyatt Walker?”
“I’ll marry you instead.”
An awkward silence immediately drapes over us like a thick blanket. I find myself subconsciously shifting away from Rey. It’s not the first time he’s said this. In fact, he’s said it frequently enough in the past year that I know he’s serious. He even tried to kiss me once, but I pulled away and he hasn’t tried since.
It’s not that I don’t want to kiss him, or can’t imagine marrying him, I’ve thought about it a lot the last few months, especially knowing what my father has planned. I love Rey, he’s practically like a brother to me, but until recently, I’d never considered him becoming anything more. If we kiss, I’m afraid it’ll change everything, and I don’t know if I want things to change. Everything is fine the way it is.
“I’m sorry,” he says, turning so one leg tucks up on the seat of the bench as he faces me. “I know that makes you uncomfortable and I don’t expect anything from you. You’re my best friend and I don’t want to ever do anything to ruin that. I’m not going to risk losing you.”
“Rey, it’s not that-“
“No, listen. I’m just saying that if you find you ever need a way out of all this,” he says gesturing around at the dull interior of ROC and all it contains, “you have one.”
With a gentle touch, he tucks a loose curl behind my ear before standing. He takes a few steps toward the nearest staircase, his footsteps ringing on the grated metal floor that hovers above a complicated maze of thick drainpipes and water lines.
“Thank you,” I call. “For the cookie.”
He spins back around, hands stuffed in his pockets and his mouth set in its familiar playful grin. “Any time. Try not to lose sleep tonight. You really have nothing to worry about.”
Then he’s gone, leaving me alone in the empty, dimly lit hallway of grey steel.
CHAPTER TWO
I scan my barcode to unlock the door of my family’s suite and enter the checkered-marble foyer lined with wood paneling, gilded mirrors, brass light fixtures and priceless artwork salvaged from the surface before the world above was destroyed. Shutting the door, I listen for the electronic lock to beep before I walk toward the living room, shoes thudding softly on the hard floor. As I approach the wood and glass-columned archway however, a man’s voice floats from the other room and I come to a sudden halt.
“We know he is involved.”
It sounds like Councilmember Walker, Wyatt’s father. My stomach constricts because I like that man even less than his awful son. Just his voice alone makes my skin crawl.
“I understand, but let me handle this first,” comes a response, the deep tone recognizable as my father’s.
Not wanting to get in trouble for eavesdropping, I clear my throat and enter the living room to find my father entertaining Councilmembers Gidell, Eddison and Walker. I pause in the doorway, my shoulders stiff, the way they always are when Councilmembers are near. All four men turn to stare. Councilmember Eddison glares around his thick glasses at my intrusion, as though I don’t belong in my own home.
My father rises from one of the delicate, claw-footed sofas, setting a glass of water on the round coffee table. “Gentlemen, thank you for your time this evening. It sounds like everything is in order for tomorrow. Now, if you’ll please excuse me, it’s my daughter’s birthday and we have a dinner date planned. I hope to see you all here in the morning for the festivities.”
The Councilmembers each rise, shake my father’s hand, offer me nods of acknowledgement and leave for their own suites. All the Councilmembers and their families live in Sector A as well as the leader and higher-ranking officers of the Gendarme, those who oversee the O.Z. legal system, the food ration managers, and several
doctors, among various other wealthy citizens. Citizens who make enough money that they will never need to sell their number for additional supplies because they can always go buy whatever they want.
Unlike Rey.
In silence, I watch the Councilmembers depart, their footsteps muffled by the antique Oriental rug on the living room floor. With the exception of my father, I’m not to speak directly to any of them unless they speak to me first. The intent is to make sure no one tries to threaten or bribe Councilmembers, though honestly, they vote themselves such high salaries and annual raises, I can’t imagine what any lesser sector citizens could possibly offer.
“Kelsey,” my father says stepping forward and wrapping me in a warm hug. He smells like the cigars he always smokes when other Councilmembers are here. The heavy aroma hangs in the air. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry I was gone when you woke up this morning. With the Gamble tomorrow there’s always so much work to do.”
The Gamble (The Gamble Series Book 1) Page 1
