by Cameron Jace
I can’t take my eyes off the boy. I want to see his eyes. For some reason, I want to brush away the hair covering his eyes.
“That’s Leo,” Timmy explains. There is that look of mixed envy and fascination in his eyes. I think I know why he feels that way. The boy, who looks about three years older than us, looks like a celebrity, but is treated like a Monster. “He was a famous singer. He had that hit song three years ago if any of you remember it. It was called I Am Alive.”
“Really? That’s him? The boy who won the Burning Idol TV show when he was only Sixteen?” wonders Ariadna. “I loved that song. I was just too young to notice. He is hot.”
“That’s him,” nods Timmy. “He had just been ranked a Nine that year. I heard stories about girls ready to throw themselves off a bridge for this guy. You know how Faya worships celebrities.”
“So why is he chained?” I ask.
“I am alive, I am a Bad Kid, I am a Monster, and I won’t back down,” Ariadna hums the chorus to herself as if hypnotized.
Since I don’t remember the song, I pull out my iAm to search for it.
“Don’t bother searching for the song. It’s banned,” says Ariadna.
“Banned?” I ask.
“Do you actually live here on this planet?” Timmy wonders. “Yes. It is banned because he dedicated his song to the…” Timmy glances around suspiciously, and lowers his voice. “Monsters,” he almost whispers. “Leo Van Piearcy, a Nine, a celebrity at sixteen, who foolishly decided to rebel against the Summit with his song. Why did a guy like him oppose the Summit? He was unranked and exiled from Faya for the last four years. I wonder what brings him back.”
“I wonder,” I sigh.
The boy suddenly raises his head and looks at me.
My heart feels like a ball of fire stuck in my chest. Although it burns, I don’t want to let go of it. Leo is handsome, in a wicked sort of way. There are cuts and bruises under the tattoos on his arms, some healed, some recent. Since I still can’t see his eyes through his dangling hair, I am looking at his edgy jaw line. It’s as if it was drawn carefully by an ancient artist, fleshing out every detail and bone so magically and tentatively. Leo’s lips are sealed and tense, as if he is afraid to open them. The visible pressure spreads up to his reddened cheeks and tightened jaw.
The way he is wearing a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt with black leather pants and boots, makes him look like all he’s missing is a motorcycle. I can see how girls would fantasize about him and how boys would be angry and envious of him.
Unconsciously, I take a step forward, inching closer to him. What has gotten into me? I feel as if I’m possessed by him. He stares back pleadingly…
When a breeze brushes his hair off his eyes, I feel like I’m standing in front of a hurricane. The air seems to flow against my face. He has ocean-blue, beautiful eyes with a strange shade of honey-color in them, which you could easily mistake for teardrops at first sight. I’m dumbstruck. My hands feel numb, and I feel I am about to start sweating. Oh, no. I don’t want to do anything foolish. Why can’t I just stop looking at his eyes? Why is he looking at me? It’s all happening a bit too fast, and that unnerves me a little. I know I haven’t been around many boys in school since Ariadna was always the crowd magnet, but there is something striking about Leo.
I am silently mad at myself for being so vulnerable to his gaze. He still looks me in the eyes. I am almost glad he is chained because of the way he disarms me, but I can’t help feeling that he should be set free.
The tension is broken as the soldiers lead him away and lock him in one of the classrooms.
“It’s rumored that he is a member of the Breakfast Club,” says Timmy.
“What’s the Breakfast Club?” asks Ariadna.
“Nooo. Nooo. No one talks about the Breakfast Club,” Timmy is looping his hands around his head again. “Bzz. Zz. Bzz,” Timmy stutters. He tries to say something we don’t understand. He has been like that since forever. I don’t know if it’s some kind of illness, or if he is having some psychotic episode. Maybe it has to do with why he is a pre-Five. “They are th-th-the s-s-secret revolution against the Summit. D-don’t even tell anyone I t-t-told you.”
Sam laughs, watching Timmy buzzing like an electrocuted bug. “Th-th-the B-b-breakfast Club?” Sam mocks him bluntly, hiding his eyes behind black sunglasses and chewing on a match in the corner of his mouth. The name Sam Shades fits him all right. “Sounds more like a junk food club.” Sam steps over and slaps Timmy on the head with his rigid fingers. Timmy stops buzzing instantly, and I speculate that it’s because he is scared of Sam.
“Take a hike, Sam,” Ariadna blurts out. “If you want to bully someone, better bully Nines and Eights.”
“Is that an invitation?” Sam grins, approaching Ariadna, licking his lips. Ariadna seems to suddenly become aware of herself being a pre-Nine.
I argue with myself, wondering if I should step up for Ariadna. It’s one of the moments when I hate being afraid of Sam because I am so self-conscious about not wanting to lose my Seven rank. Before Sam can hurt Ariadna, a friend of his approaches with an iAm in his hand, while laughing hysterically at a video he found on Zootube. Sam checks the video out and laughs too.
The video is a recap of last year’s Monster Show where a sixteen-year-old was killed by one of the cruelest killing instruments, a white, one-eyed tiger called Carnivore. It’s also the crowd’s most-favored segment of the sacrifice.
“I love those freaky Monsters,” Sam says as a couple of girls walk by and wink at him. “The Monster has to die,” they say.
I take a peek at the video and regret it immediately. I shy away as tears threaten to roll down my cheeks. Ariadna holds me tightly and pulls me away from Sam and his friends. I am not that intimidated by the brutal scene of the Carnivore killing machine; they broadcast recaps of Monster killing on TV every day. It’s the boy who died in last year’s game that brings tears to my eyes. I know him. He was my best friend since I was seven. His name was Woo. He died in last year’s game.
“It’s all right.” Ariadna puts her arms around me. “Don’t you cry now. Woo wouldn’t have liked to see you cry.”
I nod, while trying not to sob. Woo insisted that I never cry if he stopped saying “I am alive” in the Monster Show.
There is only one rule in the Monster Show. As long as the Monster screams “I Am Alive” into his iAm, the show must go on. Once he or she can’t say they are alive into the iAm, they are considered dead, which makes Sam and the rest of our nation happy.
“I remember,” I say to Ariadna, and dry my tears. “I have to stay strong.”
“That’s my girl,” says Ariadna. “Woo did that to himself. He was a rebel by nature, and he caused the iAm to rank him as a Monster. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know,” I say. “I just miss him so much.”
“We all do. But if you check Zwitter right now, you’ll see how many teenagers are zweeting about how brave he was,” Ariadna says.
Woo told me that Zwitter and Zootube were not the right names for these social networks. He said the Summit favored the letter Z for some reason, and usually manipulated the words previously known in the Amerikaz without that letter. I’ve always wondered what ‘zweeting’ meant.
“Speaking of Monsters, what is she doing here?” Ariadna says, pointing behind me.
When I turn around I see Eva Hutchinson and her brother Don. Eva stands about five steps shy of everyone else. She is slouched, and barely makes eye contact with anyone. Her brother is holding her hand and a little black box. Guys like Sam call girls like Eva ‘the living dead’ because she is a pre-Monster who insists on attending the Ranking. When I first learned about her, I didn’t get it. There was nothing wrong with her. She looked and acted normal. She used to be friendly and did well at school. Her only mistake, according to the picky iAm, was that she had a short life expectancy due to a rare illness.
Her brother pulls out a breathing device from the bo
x. I think it’s called an inhaler. I think she has asthma or a mysterious illness that only the iAm knows about.
I remember when I asked my father about how the iAm calculated the results. He answered me from behind a newspaper, saying, ‘The iAm works in mysterious ways.’
‘The Monster must die!” shouts another girl in the hall. Nines and Eights start to throw paper planes across the hall at Eva, urging her to leave school. Sam folds his hands and looks amused.
I understand that most of the Nines are spoiled and arrogant and disrespectful to others, but the Eights are supposed to become politicians and work in the media. How can they be so cruel to Eva?
“Stop it!” I snap at the students.
“There is no point in standing up for her.” Ariadna pinches me, trying to hide her embarrassment. She doesn’t like it when I support a pre-Monster. Sympathizing with Monsters is a serious act of defiance against the Summit.
I ignore Ariadna and try to swipe the paper planes away before they reach Eva. I can’t stop the insults though.
Eva hides behind me, her hands on my shoulders.
“Don’t let her touch you. Not on your Ranking Day. Bad luck,” a boy warns me.
The classroom door swings open. Madame Delacroix looks angry about the noise in the hall. I expect her to shush the Nines and the Eights. Instead, she looks at me as if this is my fault. “You,” she demands, pointing at me. “Follow me inside.”
“I told you it wasn’t worth it,” Ariadna mouths, looking sideways at the classroom door. “What do you think will happen now?”
As I follow Madame Delacroix into the room, I see Eva asking Ariadna if she has seen her iAm, which Eva seems to have lost. Losing one’s iAm is a crime. However, the Gatekeeper claims he has lost his electric cattle prod all of a sudden as well. This can easily downgrade him to a Monster too.
Madame Delacroix opens Classroom Z using a magnetic card that can only be used from outside. As she closes the door behind us, I look at it worriedly. What if she decides to kill me like she did her children? I roll my eyes at my silly thought. Only Monsters get killed.
“Hand me your iAm, please.” Madame Delacroix stretches out her hand across the table separating us in the almost-vacant room.
I obey silently as I examine her serious face. However peacefully she poses, I can’t stop imagining her killing her children. How did she do it? Did she drown them? Eat their hearts and livers like the Snow-White Queen? How can someone kill their own child, no matter how monstrous they are?
I laugh at myself. I remember my mother trying to kill me when I became a pre-Monster when I was seven. Dad had a better idea; to abandon me and let me become homeless so they could convince the Summit they had lost me in the mall.
Mom and Dad. Thank you very much.
It was Woo who saved me at such a young age. Although he had a rebel heart, he cared for me for reasons beyond my comprehension. Woo taught me how to control my instincts and desires, how to force myself to follow the Summit’s orders, and how to please the iAm. That is why I cried myself to sleep every night since he died. I owe him my rank today.
“I am sorry about what happened outside with Eva,” I say as Madame Delacroix checks my iAm, connecting it to a master computer to check if I was cheating.
“Who is Eva?” Madame Delacroix says absently.
“Eva, you know, the…”
“Ah. The Monster.” She clicks her keyboard, her eyes glued to the screen in front of her. “Who cares about Monsters.” She takes a sip from her cold coffee.
“How can you be sure she is a… you know?” Sometimes I can’t bring myself to say the word.
“It’s so obvious. I called her parents yesterday to prevent her from attending the Ranking Ceremony, but they didn’t listen. When I assured them that the iAm’s latest predictions were rarely wrong, and that she was going to be a Monster, they said that Eva attending the ceremony was going to be more of a last wish before dying.” Madame Delacroix licks her gummy lips, tasting the sweet coffee. “I hate when parents say that.”
“Why?” I wonder. “She is going to die if she attends the Monster Show.”
“You never know. She could be the first ever to survive the Monster Show and get ranked.” Madame Delacroix chuckles mockingly.
“How do you expect anyone to survive the crazy games and deadly puzzles in the Monster Show? It’s impossible. Besides, if someone survives the games, how are they going to live among us? Everyone will try to hurt them.”
“Yeah. And that’s the fun of it,” Madame Delacroix nods as if both of us share a secret. “The Monster has to die,” she whispers. “Besides, the sun in shining bright today. For a Monster, it’s a nice day to die.”
“And what’s going to happen to her parents?”
“Her parents are both Fives. They’ll be downgraded to Monsters. The Summit hates that.”
“Why?”
“Older Monsters are not fun to watch on TV. They’re slow and usually lack motivation. It makes the show dull and boring. Do you know that Eva’s younger brother might be a Six? If I were her parents, I would have killed her years ago and saved the family.” She smirks at her reflection in the monitor as if remembering killing her own children.
I start to feel uneasy being alone in the room with her. What if I turn out to be a Monster right now? Will she kill me on the spot, here in this room? This reminds me that my brother Jack is a pre-Nine. If this happens, he will be the first in our family, who are all Sixes and Sevens. Anything you want to share with me behind Dad’s back, Mom?
“Ah.” Madame Delacroix lets out a long sigh, staring at the monitor. “I see you might be surprised with your results, girl.”
I don’t comment. My eyes are fixed on hers. I can’t help but feel disgusted by her as I try and look harder for a human soul behind those eyes. I’m still imagining how she killed her children.
“You have a big chance of becoming an Eight today.” Madame Delacroix looks happily at me. “You’re still a Seven though. Your score is very close to an Eight. Who knows? Maybe the iAm changes its mind.”
I am not pleased with her news. I keep staring at her.
“How did it feel, Madame Delacroix?” I say slowly, my voice low and colorless.
“Excuse me?”
“How did it feel killing your children?” I ask her as I feel the beast in me rising.
“How dare you ask me about—” She doesn’t complete her sentence as she notices the sudden, dark change in my personality.
I jump over the table and shock her with the electric cattle prod that I stole from the Gatekeeper outside. She buzzes like a huge fly, but I catch her before she falls to the floor.
“Don’t you dare fall sleep on me.” I kick her. “I swear if you don’t do what I say, I’ll buzz you to death.”
“Okay. Okay.” She obeys, drooling uncontrollably. “What do you want?”
“I want you to switch the results on this iAm with mine,” I demand as I show her Eva’s iAm, which I stole in the middle of the fight outside. “Now! I have no time.”
“But that is impossible,” she says, looking at me as if I have turned into a ghost. “The iAm is connected to a small receptor in your brain, right under your ear. It’s the size of a grain of rice. It can’t be removed, and I can’t change the results.”
“Don’t bullshit me,” I growl. “That receptor only gathers information about us and connects it to the iAm from the day we are born until we’re sixteen. Right now, the iAm and the Summit know that the owner of Eva’s iAm is a Monster, and that the owner of mine is a Seven. Switching the iAms now will work. I’ve been studying this for a year and I know what I am talking about. There is a program that allows you to divert the iAm to a different receptor, which means a different teenager. This is how the Summit forges the results when they want to get rid of rebellious teenagers.”
Madame Delacroix, although still dizzy from the electric shock, must be wondering how I know all this. How I suddenly chang
ed from that damsel-in-distress girl to a rebel. She takes Eva’s iAm, opens it, and starts working her magic.
“You know that this will make Eva a Seven, and you’ll become a Monster. Don’t you?” She locks the iAm and types on the computer. I see Eva’s data and mine being switched. “Why would anyone do this? Why would you want to be a Monster?”
“None of your business.” I threaten her by pushing the electric cattle prod closer to her.
After she finishes, I snatch the magnetic card that opens the door away from her, and tuck it along with the two iAms in my pockets.
“I wanted to cry,” Madame Delacroix mumbles. “When I killed my children. I wanted so bad to cry, but I couldn’t.” An unborn teardrop seems to argue its way out of her eyes. “You know why I couldn’t? Because the iAm would pick up on it, and I didn’t want that to happen. In our nation, we have to accept these sacrifices, right? It’s for the best interest of us all. It’s our fate that we can’t control.”
I throw her one last disgusted look, and I don’t hesitate to buzz her to sleep with the electric prod. “I guess I’ll have to sacrifice you now. I’ve decided that this is your fate, child-killer,” I say, walking to the door with the only magnetic card that opens the door from outside. Madame Delacroix won’t wake up for hours to ask for help, and no one will know she is hurt. They will think she is working in Classroom Z.
The first thing I do when I get out is plaster a naïve and innocent smile on my face again before I stumble intentionally over another boy’s shoes.
I told you I was going to surprise you.
Chapter 2
Disneyland is Gone
I was born at ten in the morning on the tenth day of the tenth month in the ‘Year of the Ten’ — named after the year a gypsy woman foretold the upcoming birth of the first Ten in our nation. Even though everyone knows you can’t believe a Gypsy, who was a Five, we still loved to believe.
My birthday coincides with the date of the annual Ranking Day, which allows me to attend this year’s rankings or the next’s. I insisted I take it this year. I have my reasons.
