Nice Day to Die (I Am Alive Book 1 Episode 1) (A Young Adult Dystopian) (I Am Alive serial)

by Cameron Jace

  This book was previously published as

  ‘I AM ALIVE: a dystopian novel’

  This an episodic release of the I Am Alive series where

  each book in the series is divided into three Episodes.

  If you have read the earlier version ( full book ) and wish to

  read the first Episode in book 2, then you’re looking for:

  Girl with Golden Eyes ( I Am Alive Book 2 Episode 1 )

  which is available on Amazon.com now

  NICE DAY TO DIE

  I Am Alive Series

  Episode 1

  by

  Cameron Jace

  Copyright © Akmal Eldin Farouk Ali Shebl 2012.

  All Rights Reserved

  US Copyright Registration Number

  TX 7-525-458

  ISBN-13: 978-1475076509

  ISBN-10: 1475076509

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Edited by R J Locksley, Susan Hocking, and Danielle Littig

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  To the many friends and family who have helped me to write this book, I would like to express my sincerest thanks. This book has been a labor of love for so many awesome readers I met randomly on the internet. Please forgive me if I forget thanks someone. Thanks to my beta readers: Danielle, Susan, Amanda, Wendy, Scarlett, and Locksley, and those who read the firs book, loved and tolerated it while it was unedited at the time. To all my readers online, who offered so much encouragement and enthusiasm, THANK YOU for the gift of your time and attention. To my family, for their encouragement and faith.

  “And these children that you spit on

  As they try to change their worlds

  Are immune to your consultations

  They're quite aware

  of what they're going through”

  ~ From David Bowie's ‘Changes’

  “Readers of Battle Royale (by Koushun Takami), The Running Man, or The Long Walk (those latter two by some guy named Bachman) will quickly realize they have visited these TV badlands [ meaning Hunger Games ] before.”

  ~

  Stephen King’s review of the Hunger Games

  Author’s note:

  The Stephen King quote above explains that the plot device of children fighting on live TV in the arena is not exclusive to the Hunger Games books. In fact, it was originally invented in Battle Royale ( book and film ) written by Koushun Takami 1999, who has honorably mentioned having borrowed the idea from several Stephen King novels before. I Am Alive uses that plot device as well.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  “Every girl dies – not every girl really lives.”

  ~ Decca Tenderstone

  Chapter 1

  A Nice Day to Die

  I am going to surprise you. You have no idea…

  Every time the bus hits a patch of uneven pavement, it jostles me from side to side, even though I am holding on to the overhead railing while on my tiptoes. Faustina, the school’s queen bee, laughs at me, while checking out her fingernails. She calls me a dork under her breath. She is predicted to become a Nine today and Nines are always mean to me.

  I live in a world where every teen is ranked on a scale from five to nine. Nines are the luckiest, and are the highest rank in our nation. Fives are the lowest rank allowed. I have been told that I would make a perfect Seven.

  The bus stops in front of my school, Cubberley High. I wait for the Nines and Eights to get out first. Nines are usually the most beautiful. Eights are the most elegant. Predicted Sevens like me have to wait in line. At least I get to get up before the Sixes and the Fives.

  I stumble over a boy’s shoes, but my friend Ariadna catches me by grabbing my arm. Ariadna is a predicted Nine. If she hadn’t been my neighbor since we were kids in Eve, our home city, we would never have been friends. I don’t have any other friends who are predicted Nines or Eights.

  “Pull your chin up and walk with grace, princess,” she whispers in my ear, before slapping me lightly on the butt as I straighten up my posture. I wish I had her wit and confidence.

  “I am so worried,” I say, walking toward the school’s entrance. “Why can’t I just attend the celebration and get ranked?”

  “Don’t worry. It’s just a test before the Ranking Ceremony. They recheck our names and data in the system to make sure we haven’t cheated in any way,” Ariadna explains. “You’ll do all right. It’s fun. Enjoy the moment and look around you. Lotsa cute boys in here.” She high-fives other students as we walk toward the school’s entrance. Nobody greets me though.

  Today is Ranking Day, when every sixteen-year-old in our nation gets a number that shapes the rest of their lives.

  We’re on our way to attend that last checkup in our local school, then we’ll be heading to the big ceremony in Grand School where the events will be broadcast live on TV like every year.

  I pull out a chocolate bar from my pocket to eat it and melt my fears. It’s wrapped in a flame-colored cover, and is labeled: Flambury, the best chocolate bar in Faya.

  Faya is the name of our nation.

  “Stop that.” Ariadna yanks the chocolate bar out of my hands. “Candy messes with your sugar levels, and it could show up in the test. Why would you want to do such a thing before the test?”

  “You’re right.” I shrug my shoulders.

  “You’re lucky you’re slim and tiny like you are, even though you eat those chocolates,” she remarks. “Besides, you’ve already had your 500 grams of breakfast today, right?”

  “It’s only 300 grams,” I mumble. “I‘m a pre-Seven. I get less than pre-Nines like you.” The amount and quality of food you’re allowed to eat depends on your rank.

  “Cheer up,” says Ariadna. “I have a feeling you’ll make an Eight.”

  “You think so?” I bounce on my toes with enthusiasm. “We’d be living in a real utopia if that happens today.”

  In the middle of my virtual utopia, I sense an impending apocalypse. My mom’s voice wanders into my head.

  Don’t expect too much. You’ll be a Seven like your mother.

  “I know, Mom. I am a Seven,” I mutter, looking ahead at the school’s entrance.

  One of the Gatekeepers stops the students at the main door before entering the school. Gatekeepers protect schools and buildings. They don’t have guns though, only
knives and electric cattle prods.

  “Everyone show their iPhones on their way in, please,” the Gatekeeper demands.

  The students laugh at his request.

  “It’s called the iAm, old man,” Faustina says, flashing her pink iAm device at him. “You sound like a hundred-year-old. Fives are so dumb. There is no such thing as an iPhone or smartphone anymore.”

  “Or Blackberry,” Sam Shades, a pre-Nine and Faustina’s boyfriend, says coldly while shaking his head. “What were those guys thinking?” he adds. “Stupid names for an old stupid civilization.”

  I don’t like the way Faustina and Sam make fun of the Gatekeeper. He’s a Five. Fives are blue-collar workers. They almost have no other choice. They’re the majority of our nation, washing toilets, guarding doors, cleaning streets, building with bare hands, and waiting tables.

  But Faustina is right about the iAm…

  The iAm is a device that is a little bigger than my small palms. It has a touch screen that connects us to the internet, and it collects data from our body and brain twenty-four-seven. It analyzes, calculates, and posts frequent results concerning our health and habits, which is a process called Self-Quantifying. Additionally, it predicts future behaviors, skills, and impulses. Sometimes, it suggests our romantic interest and matches us with someone for life. Not all results are visible to the iAm’s owner. Only the government, known as the Summit, can access all of these results. It used to be written the Submit, with a silent B, but that was recently changed.

  The iAm decides the rank of every sixteen-year-old in Faya.

  I am standing before a Gatekeeper when a boy shoves me from behind. I lose balance, bump into the Gatekeeper and fall to the ground. The Gatekeeper makes sure I am all right, but I am angry about wrinkling the dress my father bought me for Ranking Day.

  “Out of the way, Monster!” another boy snaps at me, as he walks down the hallway.

  “I am not a Monster,” I shout, still on the floor. “I will be a Seven.”

  Every sixteen-year-old whose rank is below Five is called a Monster. Monsters are considered to be teen freaks and the society views them as a danger. The Summit believes that Monsters have nothing to offer the nation. Being called a Monster basically means you’re the black sheep, the scapegoat of society, or the humiliating scar that the nation wants to get rid of. In school, they teach us that the Bad Kidz, or Monsters, were the ones responsible for the apocalypse that ended the civilization before us. A civilization we call the Amerikaz. Teen Monsters are the greatest threat to Faya.

  “At least you were bumped by a Nine. That’s good luck, Pixie,” a boy says to me.

  I look up from the floor. It’s Timothy Rabbit, sneering at me with his scrubby, red hair, and childish face with freckles. He has all kinds of wires, headphones, and iAm plug-ins crawling out of his white shirt, which he wears under a loose red tie. Timmy is a computer hacker that is trying hard to fit in. He is a predicted Five.

  “Don’t call me Pixie,” I say. “My name is Decca, pronounced like the second part of Rebecca.” I have to explain since everyone mispronounces my odd name.

  “Okay. Okay,” Timmy grins. “Just making conversation.”

  “Buzz off, Timmy.” Ariadna says as she lends me a hand. Faustina, standing next to Sam, calls me a dork again.

  “I was just trying to help,” Timmy lies. “The dude called her a Monster.”

  A number of students turn their heads and look at us when Timmy says the word Monster.

  “The Monster has to die!” a couple of pre-Eights rant with smirks on their faces, showing a V-sign with their fingers. These are the exact words written on the t-shirt that Sam is wearing.

  No one likes Monsters. Even though the boy who shoved me said the word, it is perceived differently when uttered by a pre-Five like Timmy who is one rank away from being a Monster himself. Everybody knows that Timmy is a kiss-ass. He would sell his own mother for a higher rank – which is the case with almost everyone else. A higher rank changes your life for the better. After he was arrested by the Summit for hacking the iAm system, Timmy was offered the chance to help them catch teens who escaped schools and homes after being labeled pre-Monsters. It was his only chance of escaping Monster status.

  In Faya, teenagers who break the law don’t go to jail. They are given the rank of Monsters, which is far worse than jail. Monsters are punished by participating in our yearly human sacrifice called the Monster Show, where they must compete in deadly games on live TV.

  If they survive, they get ranked. But the truth is that no one ever survives the Monster Show and they’re not meant to. We all know that. It’s a cleansing ritual ,disguised as a live show on TV, where people clap at the sight of blood.

  A teacher, Madame Delacroix, calls for Faustina among others to attend her initial checkup in Classroom Z, a special room designed for the Ranking tests. Madame Delacroix is a Six. Most women who are Sixes become schoolteachers. Men who are Sixes become military soldiers. It’s obligatory. My father is a Six, but he is retired.

  Even though Madame Delacroix looks lovely like your regular school teacher, she frightens the bejesus out of me. Madame Delacroix and Madame Dunbar both killed their children. Madame Dunbar sent her kids away to the Wastelands across the border last year, but we don’t know how Madame Delacroix killed her children. They did it because their kids were pre-Monsters. Parents get punished and downgraded if their kids become Monsters.

  As Faustina walks gracefully toward the classroom, the boys and even some girls in the hall start to drool.

  Faustina Flare, what can I say?

  Faustina is a Teen-Gene, which is a set of serums, pills, and injections sold to rich parents who want to have Nine babies. Her parents bought her a Teen-Gene package before she was born. They are sold in the pharmacies, but are ridiculously expensive. If parents can afford it, a Teen-Gene is the easiest way for their children to be ranked as an Eight or Nine. Not that beauty is always ranked that high, but the Teen-Gene beauty doesn’t need brains with it. If I describe to you how curvy and sexy Faustina’s legs are, you’d think I was a boy infatuated with her.

  “If only I were a Teen-Gene, I would have been a Nine, and I could travel the world,” Timmy says. Only Nines and Eights have a chance to travel abroad, but only if the Summit approves first.

  “I doubt it would have worked on you.” I word-slap him back for not helping me when I was on the floor.

  Nines have the best opportunities in society. They are celebrities in whatever they do, becoming actors, singers, athletes, and even high-caliber scientists.

  Fives, Sixes, and Sevens envy the Nines, claiming Nines are mean, which is usually true. All but Ariadna. She is a sweetheart that is funny, and she loves me unconditionally.

  We watch Faustina as she blows a kiss from her hand to Sam. He is our school’s best player at Crazeball, a violent game that I don’t like. I only watch it because Ariadna is a cheerleader. Sam tried to hit on Ariadna before, but she shut him down so he ended up calling her bad names. Thankfully, he never talks to me. I am virtually invisible to most boys in school anyway. Sam bullies students all the time, gets into fights, and harasses girls. The iAm ignores those kinds of things. Bullying doesn’t affect the results negatively.

  Ah, yes, I forgot to tell you. The Teen-Gene package comes with the name of the baby on it, so Faustina is actually the name written on the box her parents purchased sixteen years ago. Faustina, the beautiful package, is all beauty and no brains. Ariadna is so right about referring to her as Barbie.

  “Shame on you, Faustina,” Ariadna giggles. “Was Sam’s name written on your Teen-Gene box too?”

  “Maybe the iAm matched him for her,” I suggest.

  “Can’t be,” Ariadna explains. “You can’t get matched with a Teen-Gene. Only pure humans do. It’s called ‘Tattooed’, not ‘Matched’. And it rarely happens.”

  “Do you think Faustina could make a Ten?” Timmy wonders, unable to take his eyes off her while she enters
the class.

  “No way. She’s dumb,” says Ariadna. “And you know that it’s not possible. There are no Tens.”

  “Ten is a myth,” I back up Ariadna. The iAm has never ranked anyone a Ten before. Ever.

  “It’s not a myth,” Timmy says. “It just hasn’t happened… yet.”

  “Speaking of Tens,” says Ariadna, gazing over my shoulder. “Who is that hottie? I’d rank him a Ten myself. Hell, I’d trade my rank to have him!”

  I turn around as a breeze of murmuring runs through the students. There are six soldiers walking toward us through the main door. We spread apart to make room for them. Why are there soldiers in school on Ranking Day?

  They approach us while guarding some criminal. I can’t see who it is. I can only make out a silhouette of a person that is wearing a black leather jacket with silver pins. I rub my eyes carefully so I don’t mess up my makeup.

  It’s a boy. He is held up by two soldiers who grip him tightly. The other four are escorting him. Are they protecting the boy, or protecting us from him?

  The boy is being pulled by his arms because his hands are chained behind his back. His legs are also chained in such a way that he has to bend his knees. His jeans brush the ground with every step. I wonder why he looks so defeated. His thick, silky black hair dances down his forehead and covers his eyes. His haircut is rather unique in a wildish way, like musicians and magicians. His ears are pierced, and his arms are well-built with a tattoo on each side. One tattoo is a number nine, the one you get when you are ranked a Nine. The other one is a golden tiger-like figure. I don’t know what it means. I have never seen a golden tattoo before.

  The boy is not fighting back. He is two strides away from me.

  “Who is he?” whispers Ariadna in my ear, standing behind me.