The Culling ttk-1

by Steven dos Santos

  Recruit Goslin. Make your selection. Press button A or button B.

  Cypress looks at me with empty eyes. Then she turns and stares at her children, together for the very last time. Even from here, I can see her fingers digging into her cheeks, drawing blood.

  Make your decision now, Recruit.

  “I can’t.” She cups a hand over her mouth.

  My heart’s breaking, especially knowing that I’m the cause of all her agony.

  Your time for making a selection has expired, Recruit Goslin. You have forfeited your position in the Trials, and as a result, you, as well as both your Incentives, shall be shelved immediately.

  I pound the window over and over again until I finally slump against it. Weak. Empty. “I’m so sorry, Cypress. Please forgive me.”

  She looks at me, her green eyes glazed into icy lakes. Then she shakes her head. “There’s nothing to forgive, Lucian.” Her voice sounds tinny over the speakers. “You’ve done nothing except what they made you do.”

  I make a decision. “Your brother never abandoned you, Cypress,” I say. My voice quavers. “You have to believe that he loved you and would have been there if he could.” Even now I can’t bring myself to tell her everything.

  She smiles. “I choose to believe that.”

  Woosh!

  The door to Cypress’s chamber slides open.

  Recruit Goslin. You will now enter your Incentives’ chambers.

  “Don’t do it, Cypress,” Digory calls.

  Her face contorts into a mask of anguish. “You know it’ll be worse for them if I don’t.”

  The divider between the children sinks into the floor.

  Cypress steps out of her chamber on tentative legs and weaves like a drunk over to the children’s chamber. It’s so unlike her determined walk up to the dais on Recruitment Day. The door to the children’s prison slides open. Cypress wipes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and grips the edges of the threshold, pulling herself inside. The door slides shut again, sealing all three of them inside.

  “Hello again,” Cypress says to the children. Her voice sounds hoarse through the speaker system, as if she’s been screaming.

  The boy stops jumping and bounces over to sit next to his sister. “You’re the soldier lady.”

  The girl elbows her brother. “What’s she doing here?”

  The boy stares at Cypress, then cups his mouth to whisper something in his sister’s ear.

  “Sssh!” The girl nudges him. “You’ll make her upset again.” She turns to Cypress. “Do you wanna play?”

  Cypress wipes her eyes and smiles. “I’d like that very much.” She sits on the cot beside them.

  A round slot in the panel before me opens up, and a sleek, dark lever, like a small dagger, rises from it.

  Recruit Spark. In a few seconds, a pack of starving Canids will be set loose in Recruit Goslin’s Incentive Chamber. As victor of this Trial, you can choose to override this method of shelving by pulling the lever yourself and releasing a painless toxin into the air vents instead. As always, the choice is yours.

  Memories of blood-curdling screams and tearing flesh coming from that alley back in the Parish drown out Slade’s voice and my throbbing heartbeat. The idea of those vicious, horrible beasts pouncing on Cypress and these innocent little ones is too much to bear.

  My shaking, sweaty hand grips the ice-cold lever and pulls it. “Forgive me,” I whisper, collapsing against the panel.

  A faint hissing comes through the speakers.

  The boy shifts on the bed, moving next to Cypress. “Do you have any children?”

  I bite into my lip.

  Cypress’s eyes glisten. She shakes her head. “I … I never … did … but I always wanted to.” Her lips curve into the saddest smile I’ve ever seen. “Maybe you two can be my children now.”

  My fingers scrape the glass. I can’t bear to look anymore, but I can’t tear my eyes away.

  Cypress pulls the children close. “I think you’re both pretty special,” she whispers. She kisses each of them on the forehead.

  Both children yawn and huddle closer to her.

  Then Cypress starts to sing.

  Her voice is melodic, echoing softly through the speakers. A bittersweet song of love lost and found again. Each lyric tugs at my heart, sometimes gentle, sometimes wrenching through my chest. I think of my mom, my dad, Mrs. Bledsoe-all the warm memories of them, carved out of me by the Establishment, leaving me hollow inside except for the single flame that still burns.

  I’m hugging myself, rocking back and forth.

  Through a blur of tears, I can see Digory, glassy-eyed, as if staring at another life.

  Even Ophelia seems touched, her cheeks like dewy leaves.

  By the time the song comes to an end, neither child is stirring.

  Cypress pulls them closer and kisses them again. “Sleep well and have wonderful dreams.” Serenity washes over her face.

  She smiles and closes her eyes.

  thirty-five

  I wake up curled into a ball on the floor of the next holding station. Digory’s sitting cross-legged beside me, his hand stroking my hair. I barely remember half-walking, half-stumbling here after that last Trial.

  After Cypress was-

  The memory of Cypress and her children lying there with closed eyes, perfectly still, jolts me fully awake. I replay the scene in my mind-the entire pen containing the bodies sinking into the ground as it were being swallowed by quicksand. My hands are still sore from pounding on the window, my throat raw from crying out. When our pens were unlocked, Digory wrapped his arms around me, but I broke away and staggered toward the next holding station. As soon as I reached it I collapsed into a fetal position, and exhaustion gave way to sleep.

  Cypress and her children had just vanished, as if they’d never existed. And once again, I did nothing to stop it.

  Unlike with Gideon, the Establishment robbed us of our chance to say goodbye to Cypress in our own way, just like they’ve robbed us of everything else. Grieving is a weakness-too human, too mired in compassion, and we can’t repeat that mistake, can we?

  My eyes finally wander. Ophelia’s lying on the ground a few feet away, sound asleep. A soft, rhythmic purr bleeds through her parted lips, which look curved into a smile. I can just make out her eyeballs rolling beneath their sheaths before she turns on her side, away from me.

  A shudder penetrates the numbness.

  How can she actually nap, after what happened? What’s still happening?

  But even more disturbing is the thought of what dreams lie coiled in that mind, hidden deep, waiting to spring.

  Digory stops stroking my hair. He holds out a ration bar.

  “Lucian, you really should eat something. You don’t look well. You need your strength.”

  My eyes finally connect with his. A shard of anger stabs me. Why does he care what happens to me? Why keep pretending when he already has someone?

  I sit up. “I’m not hungry.”

  Instead, I swallow the sour clump lodged in my throat. My fingers dig out the crud from the corners of my eyes. There aren’t any tears left to spill, nothing left to feel except the longing to see Cole, to hold him one last time, make sure he’s okay before I, too, take my last breath. I’m so tired of fighting, tired of surviving.

  I think of that empty space where Cypress and her children disappeared into the ground and stifle a cynical laugh. Instead of grieving for Gideon and Cypress, there’s a part of me that actually envies them.

  Digory wraps a hand around my arm. “I’m gonna have to insist-”

  “Let go of me !” I’m barely able to wrench my arm free of his grip and knock the ration bar away.

  He recoils as if I struck him. A film of hurt coats his eyes. “Sorry. I’m just … worried about you. It’s getting down to the wire and … and I know how hard this must be for you … with your brother and all … ” He looks down, his fingers fidgeting, tugging on the thumb of one hand with the thumb and in
dex finger of the other.

  My anger dulls. I rest a hand on his knee and give it a squeeze. “Look, I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just … with everything that’s happened … I … ” I remember that empty space again. “I can’t believe Cypress is gone. And Gideon … ” I look back to find Digory’s eyes waiting for mine. “Besides, you have your own troubles, someone else to worry about.”

  I state it as a fact, but the masochist in me is grasping for confirmation or denial of something I don’t want to be true.

  Digory’s gaze is so intense I forget to breathe. “Yes,” he says at last, looking away.

  Is that disgust? Regret? I can’t be sure. And it really makes no difference. Nothing will change, regardless.

  He engulfs my hand in his warm palm. It feels so comforting, yet painful at the same time. His face kaleidoscopes with emotion: sadness, regret, anger, longing, all facets of the blue gems fixed on me. “Just because I have a commitment … a duty … to someone else … doesn’t mean I don’t … care … about you.”

  As hard as I try to resist, I slide my hand out from underneath the shelter of his. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Digory, all your support. But as you said, we’re getting down to the wire and you need to focus on your priorities.”

  I stuff my hand into my pocket, trying to rub away that lingering feel of his skin against mine, which short circuits the few remaining synapses in my brain. I try to remain nonchalant, but I’m doing all that I can to hold it together, and I’m angry at myself for feeling this way.

  Digory and me-it doesn’t matter.

  Cole’s my priority.

  But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

  I shrug. “As noble as your intentions may be, I don’t need you feeling sorry for me. You need to do what’s in your own best interest from this point on, Digory.” I pause and draw strength to spit out the rest. “That’s what I’ll be doing.”

  Digory purses his lips and nods. “Fair enough. But there’s one thing you need to believe.” His eyes pin me to the spot. I can’t move. “What I feel for you. It’s not pity, Lucian. Far from it.”

  My heart thunders through my chest. No. I can’t let him pull me in again. Not at this juncture. He and I … it’s just not possible … never was. I compose myself as best I can and clear my throat. “I wish I could believe you. But I don’t really believe in much of anything anymore.”

  His smile overflows with sadness. “Then I guess I’ll just have to prove to you how I really feel.”

  The hiss of static through the speakers shatters the moment.

  Attention Recruits!

  Nervous energy courses through me at the sound of Slade’s voice. I spring to my feet, brimming with anxiety and fear.

  Ophelia rolls onto her back and yawns, stretching her arms out. Her eyes flutter open. “Darn! I was just having the most amazing dream-”

  Her words stick when she spies Digory and me. She frowns. “Oh. You two are still here.” She sighs and climbs to her feet, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  Stand by. Your next Trial shall commence momentarily.

  Digory hops to his feet. I can tell he wants to say something but I look away, focusing on the image of Cypress and her kids sinking into the ground … buried … gone forever …

  I shrink from the memory, reeling with vertigo as if I’m poised on the brink of a great precipice staring down at my own doom.

  With so few of us remaining, this ordeal will be over soon.

  My eyes flit to Digory, then back.

  A thought jabs me in the gut. There’s a good chance only one of us is going to make it through this next round.

  Ahead of us, a panel wooshes open, revealing a solitary metal door flanked by two small alcoves inlaid in the wall. A sign above the door says,

  BIOGENETICS LABORATORY # 4

  Both alcoves are empty, except for gaping holes about eight inches in diameter, ringed by tiny chasing lights trying to devour each other. The interior of each fissure gives way to unsettling darkness.

  I force a swallow. What are those things?

  And why are there only two of them instead of three?

  Ophelia kicks dirt over the spot where Cypress and the children disappeared. I flinch. Then she cups a hand over the side of her mouth and leans in toward me.

  “I hope you were able to get some sleep,” she says. “I’m feeling so rested and refreshed. I feel like I can take on anything-or anyone.” She chuckles.

  Recruits Spark and Tycho. Before we begin this penultimate Trial, you will both approach the inoculation tubes flashing on either side of the gateway.

  Digory and I exchange glances infested with worry. “Inoculation?” he asks the invisible Slade.

  Now, Recruits.

  We both shuffle ahead until we’re each standing in front of the strange openings.

  I glimpse the shadow of satisfaction creeping across Ophelia’s face. There’s only one reason I can think of that Digory and I are standing where we are and she’s been left out.

  This next step must be tied to the fact that the two of us are each other’s Incentives, and she isn’t.

  Recruits Tycho and Spark. Both of you roll up a sleeve and place an arm inside the inoculation tubes immediately.

  My entire body stiffens. The thought of placing a fingertip, let alone one of my limbs, through that impenetrable darkness terrifies me. But what choice do we really have? If we refuse, they’ll kill us on the spot. One look at Digory tells me he’s thinking the same thing.

  We jam our exposed arms into the Inoculation tubes simultaneously.

  Our eyes lock. I struggle to ignore the fear pressing down on my head, on my chest, trying to crush them.

  Instead, I focus on the calming blue staring back at me and drowning out everything else-the cacophony of my racing heart, my ragged breaths, the tingling in my fingers. My thoughts settle into manageable anxiety. If I can just hold on a little longer, maybe it won’t be as bad as I imagined. Maybe-

  Prick!

  A sharp pain digs into my inner arm. Digory’s eyes flinch at that exact moment, breaking the spell.

  Then the pain’s gone and we both wrench ourselves free.

  Digory walks over to me. His eyes dart from the mark on my arm back to the identical one on his own, then up at me. “You good?”

  I flex my biceps a couple of times, then let my arm drop to my side. “Think so. How ’bout you?”

  He shrugs. “Can’t feel much of a difference.”

  Ophelia scowls. “You don’t look hurt.”

  I ignore her. “Maybe it’s just some kind of vaccination.”

  Digory traces the pinkish patch on his own flesh. “I don’t think so.”

  Recruits Tycho and Spark, you are now in compliance with regulations.

  Peals of nervous laughter erupt from me, then sputter out just as quickly. “Compliance. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

  Digory shakes his head. “I don’t think so either … ”

  Viral Infection is complete. You are now ready to commence this Trial.

  thirty-six

  Viral infection?

  But deliberately making us sick is just the kind of thing the Establishment specializes in. I close my eyes against a wave of dizziness.

  The vent in my chamber during that last trial. Digory said there was one in his, too. They were meant to gas either one of us, as each other’s Incentives.

  Which means if we’ve both been infected with some disease prior to starting this Trial, then-

  “Cole!” I shout at the speakers. “What’ve you done to him, Slade?”

  All of the Incentives have been infected with a mutated form of the Reaper virus, including Recruits Tycho and Spark. The virus has an extremely short incubation period.

  Images of Mrs. Bledsoe hacking up blood bubble to the surface. Except her face changes to Cole’s. My knees buckle. Stark desperation rips through me.

  When the gateway opens, your task is to r
etrieve the vials of antivirus and deposit them in the marked cryogenic chamber at the top of the stairs corresponding to your respective Incentives. In the case of Tycho and Spark, should you each procure an additional vial, you’re allowed to inject yourselves or each other with the antidote. But be cautioned that there are only four vials total.

  Despite the increasing thudding in my head, my thoughts spin through a cloak of fog, calculating the different scenarios based on the amount of remedies versus the number of Incentives. The results of my calculations knife through my Reaper-dulled senses.

  Ophelia doesn’t need the cure, so all she needs is one vial for Maddie.

  I’ll need a vial for Cole-that makes two vials claimed. Then another one for Digory. That’s three.

  That leaves Digory with only one vial, the final one, with either his husband or me as its recipient.

  Which means I’m a dead man if he’s forced to choose.

  Once you have deposited the antivirus in your respective Incentive’s chamber, they will be transported via pneumatic tubes to their final location and you must immediately proceed to your final Trial. Prepare to enter the gateway, Recruits.

  The mechanisms on the door to the Biogenetics Laboratory grind and creak. The sound hurts my ears, which ache with a dull throbbing. Digory and Ophelia crowd against me, each of us facing our potential doom.

  The gears of the door stop crunching and the locks spring free.

  Even if I were to use my second vial on myself instead of Digory, then he’d be left to choose between the life of his husband and his own.

  A quick glance at Digory’s pained expression tells me he’s been doing some arithmetic of his own.

  The door arcs inward with a high-pitched squeak, exposing a flight of stairs. I fight the urge to push through.

  The only way both Digory and I can both survive, with both of our other Incentives intact, is if we find all four vials-including the one intended for Ophelia’s sister. Effectively murdering Maddie.

  The door swings open all the way with a deafening clank.

  Already a fever’s baking my brain. Cold sweat weaves down my face. A vise squeezes my chest and I cough into my palm.