by Karen Carr
“Sit,” Mr. Wassillie says. He claps his hands, balls them up in fists, and then sticks out the index finger of each hand. A well-rehearsed move. “A few years ago, I was a scared and vulnerable sixteen year old just like you. Look at me now. I’m a fighting machine. Camp will teach all of you to be just like me.” His poncho flows around him as he paces the stage. “We will teach you to meticulously plan and plot your executions. My own termination took close to two years because I was careful. We don’t want you to make a mistake in choosing your victims. Everyone deserves a merciful death. We are here to show you who to kill and how to do it.”
Mr. Wassillie takes a breath and stares out over the crowd. He nods as if he likes what he sees. The movements come out too rehearsed, as if he has performed this act many times before.
“Two years of training and in two seconds it was over.” He clasps his hands together. “My victim was dead with a single bullet to the head.” He improvises pulling the trigger to his own head. “You are here to spend four weeks with us. These four weeks you will learn how to kill and how to cope. It took me years to get over what I did, and many hours repenting. I finally emerged from my cocoon of hate and sorrow to join you here at Kill School.”
He signals for the counselors, who have been waiting by the stage, to join him
“With my guidance and my fellow counselors. We will get you through this together.” He raises his fists in the air and this time garners some applause. “You can do better than that, come on, give the counselors a warm welcome.” Mr. Wassillie starts clapping like a maniac. Soon, we all join in. I am surprised to feel relief with the growing enthusiasm. He really likes his job and, it would seem, us.
“That’s better,” Mr. Wassillie says.
The counselors walk in a line onto stage. Mr. Wassillie runs through all of their names, but I don’t listen. I can’t take my eyes off Burke as he saunters across the stage. Burke stops, arms folded across his chest, and stares out at the crowd. He doesn’t look happy. He doesn’t look sad.
“Counselors please go to your circles,” Mr. Wassillie says.
The counselors each walk toward the different colored circles. Burke goes to the ruby red circle and places the tips of his boots on the edge. I wonder who assigned him to the baby killers and why. It makes me feel sad that he has to go through training kids to kill children every four weeks.
“Your turn.” Mr. Wassillie gestures to us in a sweeping wave of his arms that sends his poncho fluttering. “Starting with the first row, come on up on stage and stand in your circle.”
We are eight rows high in the auditorium. Vanessa, Mateo, and I are on the second to last row. We stand and watch the kids climb down the auditorium steps and up to the stage. Each one files into his or her circle like ants going home to their nest.
There is not an amethyst circle, but I wouldn’t have gone to it if there were one. Slowly the kids climb onto the stage and into their appropriate spots. The turquoise circle fills up with more and more kids, so many kids in fact that they start to drift toward the opal and garnet rings.
“Are you ready?” Vanessa asks as the row in front of us moves down the line.
“No,” I answer honestly.
“Me neither.’” Vanessa smooths her turquoise dress and fiddles with her collar. “I hate this thing,” she grumbles.
“Come on,” Mateo says. He takes Vanessa’s hand and leads us down the row. The procession plods along in slow and deliberate steps.
“What’s going on with all the turquoise this year?” Vanessa asks.
“I don’t know,” I say. The turquoise circle keeps getting bigger.
I follow Vanessa up the stairs to the stage and glance out over the audience. The auditorium is empty now, with all of us on the stage. With the glaring lights, I can’t see much, but I feel the emptiness all around me. It’s as if all of us kids on stage are playing to the ghosts of fellow campers watching us from the balconies.
The stage is crowded. We have to push through the others as we walk past the circles. There are only six kids in the sapphire circle. Twelve kids, including one of the quads—Matthew with his crew cut, are in the emerald circle. When I near the ruby circle, Burke shifts his attention towards me. A smile curls on his lips as he recognizes me. His circle is empty. I breathe a sigh of relief for him and for myself.
“He’s cute,” Vanessa says. “I’ve never seen a blondie.”
“How do you know him?” Mateo asks.
“It’s a long story,” I say.
We join the group of kids in the turquoise circle. Shortly after, I feel someone’s hand in mine and turn to see Demi.
“Found you,” Demi says.
I squeeze her hand. “I’m glad.” I introduce her to Vanessa and Mateo. She greets them as if she’s known them forever and soon we are all conspiring in low whispers. By the time everyone has reached his or her circles, we are standing with at least sixty other turquoise kids. Our counselor, a short woman with lots of muscles, looks bewildered at the crowd.
Mr. Wassillie comes over to our group. Thankfully, he has taken off the poncho. His shirt isn’t much better, representing all of the token colors in a mish-mash abstract-art sort of way.
“He takes his job seriously,” Mateo whispers.
“I guess you are going to need some help,” Mr. Wassillie says to our counselor. “We’ll combine the pearl and opal groups this session. Burke and Lavonne, you are assigned to turquoise.”
Mr. Wassillie divides the group of kids up by tugging on our arms and sending us to one of the three counselors. He sends Mateo and Vanessa to Burke. He reaches me next and grabs my elbow, sending me to Burke as well.
Mr. Wassillie tries to send Demi to the other counselor, but she won’t let go of my hand.
“I have to go with her,” Demi says.
Mr. Wassillie looks her up and down. “You’re questioning me?” His eyes flutter in astonishment.
Demi blushes and looks surprised that Mr. Wassillie won’t agree to her request. She must be used to getting her way. I feel bad for her.
“She’s Azarian’s kid,” Burke says. “Let her come with me, Mr. Wassillie.”
Mr. Wassillie’s eyes go wide. “Azarian?”
Demi smirks. “Yup, he’s my dad.” She glares at Burke in a how-could-you kind of way.
“I didn’t expect you. Yes, certainly. You can go with your friend.” Mr. Wassillie lets Demi into our circle.
“Thanks,” Demi whispers to Burke sarcastically.
“What?” Burke asks.
Demi watches Mr. Wassillie who is busy sending some tough and scruffy boys, including Erwin, the mean boy from the train, in our direction. Revenge maybe?
“I don’t want anyone to know who I am,” Demi says to Burke.
“Everyone will know who you are,” Burke says. “The way Matt talks.” He tosses his hair and grins. “I had to do something. Your dad would kill me if I didn’t watch over you.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” Demi says. “But I may.” She mischievously holds up her token.
The way they flirt makes me uncomfortable. I wanted to share my secret with Burke. The way he helped the girl with the baby, I thought he would be able to help me. If he’s friends with Demi, and if he knows her Regulator father, I will not be able to trust him.
Burke asks us to gather around and quiet down. There are twenty of us in our unit, evenly divided by boys and girls. I stand between Demi and Vanessa. Erwin glares at us. He stands with two other boys. I can tell by their postures that they are the same as him. Bother. I am stuck with the bullies thanks to Demi and Burke.
Burke hands us little turquoise pins. “You are to wear these at all times.” He places his hand on his left chest. “Right here, by the heart.”
I take the pin from him. Our fingers touch and he pulls away quickly, as if I’ve burned him. Demi notices and raises her eyebrows. I fumble with the pin, trying to get it in my shirt.
“Here, let me do that,” Demi says. She ta
kes the pin in her hand and pins it into my shirt. “You think Burke’s cute?” Demi asks.
I blush. I wouldn’t admit that to her.
“He’s creepy,” Mateo says.
We both look at him as if he’s nuts.
“I’m entitled to my opinion,” Mateo says.
Burke clears his throat. “We’re going to the dorms first so that you can pick a bunk and refresh. Then, we’ll head to the dining hall. I’ll need all of your tickets for your cases and bags. We’ll get your stuff to the dorms later.”
We all hand in our tickets. Burke puts them in a bag and hands them to the boy I saw earlier who was running around the crowd. Joaquim. His small frame makes him look so young, but he is older than I am.
“Follow me,” Burke says.
We follow Burke behind the stage, through a door, and out of the glass-encased auditorium. On this side of the building, I can see my breath and snow covers the ground.
We tramp on beaten down snow toward several small cabins by a lake. Some have emerald roofs, some sapphire, and some turquoise. In fact, the colors represent the colors of our tokens. Burke leads us to the ruby red roofed cabin. His home. Our new home.
While we walk, Burke tells us about camp. We’ll be clustered with the first week campers where we will remain for all four weeks. The other groups, second through fourth week, have their own cluster of cabins.
My eyes drift to the frozen lake. Groups of kids are ice-skating on it. The whole scene looks tranquil and relaxes me. Spending time here may not be so bad.
A team of three boys and two girls jog past us in perfect sync. They all wear one-piece uniforms of sapphire. I scan the campus and see all the different colors. The red uniforms stick out the most in the white snow. There is not a sign of a purple anywhere.
“Who are all these kids?” A boy asks.
“You thought you’d be the only ones here?” Burke asks. “Four weeks of training. We rotate new kids in every week. You’ll be able to tell the seniors by their cocky attitudes. I’d advise you to stay away from them. They like to practice their techniques on the new ones.”
The cabins are made of logs and are more rustic than the buildings on the campus. Long and narrow windows ring the top of the walls, and the roofs are made of metal. In our case, red metal.
“Enter your new home,” Burke says as we reach the cabin’s wide porch. “Shoes off before you find your bunks. Girls on the left, boys on the right.” He climbs the steps, opens the door, and ushers us inside.
The first thing I notice as I walk through the door is that it is warm to the bone. The front of the cabin is separated from the sleeping area by a wide archway. On one side of the front is a place for shoes and equipment and the other side houses, a large common area complete with roaring fireplace, comfortable looking leather chairs and couches, and a large shaggy rug.
I find my totecase in the pile of bags on the equipment side and drag it with me into the sleeping area.
I can feel the warmth seep up through the wooden floor of the sleeping area. A soft white light highlights rows of wooden bunk beds that line each wall. A long and narrow table separates the two sides.
On the table are stacks of papers and steaming mugs of what smells like hot chocolate. A red velvet curtain shields a large bed built into the wall at the far end of the cabin. Several books are scattered on the bed.
The cabin is more luxurious than our townhome.
Chapter Ten
We all stand, the girls across from the boys, nervously glancing at one another and around our new home. I want to curl my hands around a cup of hot chocolate, but dare not touch anything until someone else does. The smell of it is enough to make me feel warm all over.
Burke enters the cabin, shuts, and locks the door and stands before us at the head of the table. He looks regal, rugged, and worn out.
Before Burke can speak, a girl raises her hand. “The boys are going to sleep with us?” she asks.
Burke places his hands on the table and leans in her direction. “What do you think?” he asks.
“It’s just that.” The girl pauses and looks around the table. “My mother would never approve.” Some of the boys snicker.
“Well, your mother is not here,” Burke says. “Nor will she be until visiting day. By then, you won’t care what she thinks.”
The girl blushes and looks down at the table. I’m uncomfortable sleeping with the boys, too. Mostly because I don’t trust them, especially Erwin and his cronies.
“What if we have to pee?” a boy asks.
Burke rolls his eyes. “Bathrooms are outside, behind the cabin. Showers are next to the bathroom. Outdoors, yes, but hot water. The dining hall is down by the lake.” Burke points to the papers on the table. “It’s all in your handbook.”
“But what about.”
Burke cuts another girl off with his hand.
“Read your handbook. The first rule is not to ask too many questions.” He taps the forms closest to him. “Get settled and then pick up your packet. You have twenty minutes to review and sign the documentation. If you need me, I’ll be in the rear.”
Burke walks to his bunk and draws the curtains shut.
“Oh, I wanted that one,” Demi says in regards to Burke’s bunk. She frowns and examines the bunks on our side of the table. “This will do.” She climbs to a top bunk in the middle of the row. “Take the bottom.” She points to the lower bunk.
“No thanks,” I say as I glance over to the boys side. “I’ll take the top next to you.”
“I’ll take the bottom,” Vanessa says. “I don’t like heights.”
Vanessa takes the bunk under Demi. I place my totecase on the top bunk and then climb up the ladder. My body sinks into the soft mattress; the blanket feels heavy and warm. There is a shelf and a drawer built into the wall. The drawer has a lock where I can safely store my things. There is also a curtain in front of the bunk, which I can close for privacy. Above the shelf, the long window lets me see out. I like it.
I immediately take my token bracelet off, store it in the drawer with my pocketknife, and flute for safety. I also pull out the turquoise nail polish that I made sure to bring for touchups and place it in the drawer.
Erwin and another boy, a tall darker skinned boy with straight black hair and a tattoo of a snake around his forearm, squabble over the last lower bunk. The boy twists the mean boy’s arm behind his back and then trips him, winning the bottom bunk.
I laugh aloud, which causes Erwin to glare at me. I look around and shrug my shoulders as if I don’t know who laughed. He picks up a pen and acts as if he’s going to hurl it across the table at me.
Demi scoots over to my bunk and dangles her legs over the edge with me. “What a scraggly bunch of boys,” she says. “Are they all like this?”
I don’t know whether to be offended by her comment or feel sorry for her—locked up in Clarkhaven House for all of her life. Part of me agrees with her. All of the boys are unfamiliar to me and it makes me feel nervous to have to sleep next to them. Some wear worn clothes with holes and stains, others are dirty as if they just walked in from the fields. However, as I watch their faces, how they furrow their brows nervously, or twist their hair, or try to rub off the dirt, I see they are just like us.
“What do you suppose we look like to them?” I ask Demi.
Demi regards her red dress with its rich material and hand-sewn embroidery. Fabric like that is only available for residents of Clarkhaven House. My own clothes are elegant and tasteful—bought new for the occasion.
“I suppose I look like a target,” Demi says. Her face flashes anxiety before masking over in coolness again.
“Don’t worry.” I pat her knee. “No one can kill us here. Those are the rules, right?”
Demi jumps down from her bunk. “Only one way to find out. Time to read the handbook.”
I follow Demi down from my bunk and join Vanessa, who is busy filling out the paperwork. Demi sits next to her and I sit next to De
mi and a tall girl with straight black hair.
“Hi, I’m Aria,” I say as I sit down.
She looks up at me under long dark eyelashes. “Aisha.” She smiles and leans back so I can see the girl next to her. “And this is Priyanka.”
Priyanka’s hair is bright pink.
Soon, all of the girls sway back and forth to make introductions. Demi quizzes the boys one-by-one to find out their names. She is like a queen in her court with her subjects. Some of the boys seem smitten with her already, although others seem more revolted. A few have their heads down to their forms and ignore her altogether.
Once we finish the paperwork and our deliciously warm hot chocolate, Burke emerges from his cupboard and collects the sealed envelopes from us. He then puts all of our envelopes in a cylinder, which he inserts into a tube in the wall. He presses a button and the tube is gone in a vacuum filled whoosh.
“Anyone hungry for dinner?” Burke asks. He rubs his hands together. “I’m starved.”
Everyone agrees. We are starving. The lunch on the Vactrain wasn’t enough. Burke pushes past us, brushing up against my body, and leads us out of the cabin.
“Dining hall.” Burke points to a building by the lake. The architecture is similar to the auditorium, all glass, and steel climbing out over the lake.
The boy who wrestled Erwin over the bunks comes over to Demi. “Walk with you?” he asks.
“This is Shah,” Demi says. “Shah, this is Aria, Vanessa, and Mateo. We’re a crew.”
“A crew?” I laugh. Demi has already replaced her Quad Squad with a crew.
“Ready your highness?” Burke asks Demi.
She frowns. “Don’t call me that, here. Please. Burke.”
Burke shrugs his shoulders and walks toward the dining hall. We all follow.
“You’re not a real highness, are you?” Vanessa asks Demi.
“I don’t think so,” Demi says, pondering the question. “Although my parents say they can trace our roots back to Prince of Portugal, Brazil, and the Algarves.”
“Who?” Vanessa asks.
