Our fall was broken by the crook between the Lady’s neck and right shoulder. Through the pall of rain, I can make out the stone robes draping halfway down her upraised arm, which rises about forty feet above us, clutching the torch.
The wind is fierce, buffeting my body with sharp blows, and the rain stings like a lash. If it weren’t for Ophelia’s weight anchoring me to the spot, I’d have toppled over to my death.
The sheer terror numbs my pain. I’m petrified, unable to move a fraction of an inch and risk rolling over.
There’s nowhere to go …
Ophelia’s eyes flutter open. She looks dazed at first, as if she’s woken up from a dream and isn’t sure where she slept. She lifts her head. Rain spatters her cheeks and she rubs it away. “Where—”
A gasp bursts from her lips.
Her eyes open wide and flit about. When they settle on me, it’s like flint igniting fuel.
“You’re trying to kill me too! ” The sound of her voice barely carries over the roaring storm. Her face contorts into a hateful mask. Hands clamp around my throat, squeezing.
My own hands lock onto her forearms, trying to rip her grip loose.
She squeezes even tighter …
Everything grows impossibly darker … and then the stars finally appear … bleeding through the sky … but I know it’s really the lack of oxygen … shutting me down … killing me …
No.
Releasing her arms, I ball my hands into fists and pummel her face with as much strength as I can muster.
When she lets go of me to shield herself, her body rolls halfway off me and I squeeze out from under her. She gropes for me but slips on the slick stone, hooking her hands around one of the robe’s folds. The powerful air currents rock her body.
For a second it looks like she’s going to topple over.
But she regains her balance and crawls back over. “I should have finished you off earlier. Tycho, too.” She leers at me. “But he wanted me to watch you, keep you two alive so you could feel the pain of losing each other in the end. And now that Tycho’s gone, there’s no reason to keep you around any longer.”
“What are you talking about? Who wanted you to spy—?”
Her eyes are glass. “Prefect Thorn. He wanted to teach you two a lesson … make you suffer … he made a bargain with my mother and me … ”
I nod numbly. “He’d help you win in exchange for you being his spy, making sure nothing happened to us during training. Planting a camera on us so he’d have his little footage for the Graduation Ceremony.”
She smirks. “All I care about is my sister. And my Mama. She’d still be alive if you and Tycho hadn’t plotted—”
“Don’t you see?” I burst out. “He’s manipulating you. Just like he tried to do with Digory and me. Right after our last Trial, he showed up and offered me a free pass to get here first and beat you. Since I didn’t take it, he’s using you to get his revenge. He doesn’t care about any of us. We’re all just pawns in his own sick games.”
She shakes her head. “You’re lying!”
She pounces—
Instinct blots out the fear. I kick out, booting her in the face. She slams back against one of the stone ripples. Blood seeps from her nostrils.
She glares at me and keeps on coming …
Ignoring the agony in my side, I move the only way I can … away from her … forward.
When I drop to a crawling position, my knees hit the stone and I scream out in anguish, my voice blending with the moaning wind that’s determined to drag me away to my doom. Hand over hand, I haul myself up the steep incline of the Lady’s arm, using the stone mounds of gathered cloth as steep stairs. Rain stings my eyes, making it almost impossible to see, which probably keeps me from focusing too much on just how high up I really am.
Through the howling winds, I can swear I hear her
breaths … the sounds of her boots digging into the stone …
getting closer … closer …
I climb the last ridge, now hugging the bare stone arm, clinging to its slick, smooth surface for dear life.
Dead end. I’m trapped.
My face presses against the thin flesh of the Lady’s inner elbow, inhaling the pungent aroma of copper and mossy stone.
All those nights I told Cole the story of the Lady, I never realized I was describing the place I would die.
Then, I notice a thin slit of light visible between the panels of skin. I press on one of them, and it buckles.
The rotted panel crashes inward—
I lose my balance and my upper body wedges through the twisted metal, into the statue’s arm. As startled as I am, it doesn’t compare to the shock of what I see.
Hidden inside is a rusted ladder, extending up the entire length of the arm.
Up toward the torch.
That’s where Cole is.
My upper body squeezes through. Pain rips through my fractured rib. I bite down against the tears and seize the nearest ladder rung with both hands.
Ophelia’s hand clamps around my ankle. Her giggles turn into a howl that rivals the storm winds. The sound of splintering stone pierces through the horrific yowl. Her eyes bulge.
I turn just in time to see the stone ledge she’s perched on disappear beneath her. More lightning flashes, providing me with a clear view of it tumbling down the dizzying abyss toward the foamy sea.
Still clutching my foot, Ophelia drops, yanking me downward and jamming my rib cage against the warped panel.
“Ah! ” The pain’s like a thousand knives carving into my flesh. I can’t breathe …
“Please, Spark! Please!” Ophelia whimpers. “Don’t let me fall! I can’t die! Maddie needs me! Help me! ”
“Hold still!” I yell at her over the pounding fury. Only my tenuous hold on the ladder is keeping us alive. The wind bats us from side to side. With each swaying movement, the metal saws at my ribs.
I grip the ladder tighter. “Hang on and work with me, Ophelia! ”
It feels like my shoulders are tearing from their sockets. But I pull with all my might until I lift her high enough that she can crawl through herself.
Then we’re finally perched on the ladder, her on the rung opposite me, both gasping for breath.
But there’s no time to rest.
Our eyes lock through the crossbars.
We both grab the rung above at the same time and begin the most important race of our lives.
I scramble upward as fast as I can, ignoring the searing ache in my side with each strain of my arms, the flashes of anguish that burst through my lower body with every pop of my mangled knee. As much as I struggle to outpace her, Ophelia’s eyes are a constant on the other side of the ladder like my dark shadow, a reflection of what I might so easily become if I let my guard down.
With every clang of our boots against the rungs, the ladder shudders and creaks. Just above us, there’s a semi-circular landing leading to a short, curved staircase that twists its way up to a door.
The door that leads to the torch.
Ophelia’s on the side of the ladder that dead ends underneath the half-moon slab of steel, giving me the edge I so desperately need.
One glance into her wide eyes tells me she knows it, too.
Gritting my teeth against the relentless aching tearing through me, I reach up and grab the next rung to haul myself onto the platform—
Rip!
The ladder breaks apart from its moorings and cants away from the landing, tilting me backward—
Ophelia whips around me and leaps, grabbing hold of one of the steps of the smaller staircase.
She twists her body around until she’s facing the rusted crosspieces composing the steps——
I spring after her just as the ladder topples beneath me, leaving nothing but a fifty foot drop into dark
ness.
Ophelia skitters up the remaining six steps of the smaller staircase. She lunges for the handle on the door—
I tackle her, pinning her down before she can open it. Her elbow slams me in my ribs. The pain’s excruciating and I roll off her, curling into a ball, writhing in misery.
She springs to her feet and stares at me with her emotionless eyes. The toe of her boot mashes into my ribs, and I let loose an agonized scream that echoes down into darkness.
When her boot draws back to kick me down the shaft, I somehow grab it, twisting with what I have left.
Crack!
She drops and tumbles over the edge of the platform, grabbing the end of the ladder, her body flailing like a hooked fish. Then she starts to climb up again, ignoring the moans of the metal as it tries to twist loose and topple into the chasm.
Without looking back, I drag myself up the corroding steps, clutching my side, which feels like it’s on fire. I grip the door handle and fling it open.
I’ve reached the torch at last.
I dash out of the spherical base from which the flame must have once burned, onto a circular dais surrounded by a thin railing. The cloud cover’s dissipated, and I can see the gray waves crashing against the statue far below.
I grip the railing to ward off the dizziness and skirt the base, my heart thudding in my head and throat.
“Cole! ” I shriek.
And there above me, embedded in two tongues of opaque, synthetic flame protruding from the torch, are two figures.
The outline of a young girl …
And a little boy.
My heart almost bursts.
“Cole! It’s Lucky! I’m here! ”
Congratulations, Recruit Spark. Select the button to release your Incentive from cryogenic stasis and claim your victory in the Trials.
There are two buttons—marked Juniper and Spark—implanted in the wall.
I reach a trembling finger toward the button that will release Cole and finally end this nightmare—
Ophelia grabs my hand before I can press it. She tries to push her own button instead, but I grip her hand with my free one.
Then we’re locked in a dead heat, each trying to overpower the other. She snarls and jabs her knee into my ribs. I drop to the floor, my eyes fixated on the button that would free Cole, just behind her shoulder, gleaming, taunting me—
Ophelia reaches for her own button—
I kick her as hard as I can, slamming her into the panel—into the button marked Spark.
A green glow surrounds the synthetic flame encapsulating Cole, while the other one—the one with Maddie inside—glows red, despite how many times Ophelia now jabs her button.
Stark realization dawns in her eyes.
Congratulations, Recruit Spark. Your Incentive has been reprieved. You have bested your fellow Recruits.
It feels like I’ve just been reborn into a new world.
Ophelia’s shaking her head, as if in the throes of a nightmare. She reaches up, clawing at the shell encasing her sister. “Maddie! Maddie, sweetie! It’s me ! It’s Fee-Fee! I’ve come for you! I’m here ! Maddie! Maddie!” she bellows.
Another panel slides open underneath Maddie’s flame.
Recruit Juniper. You have failed the Trials and will be sentenced to the work camps. Your Incentive will now be shelved. In ten seconds, a stream of hydrochloric acid will be released into her enclosure. However, if you choose, you can activate the override instead, releasing an electrical charge that will instantly stop your Incentive’s heart. As always, the choice is yours.
Despite everything she’s done, I feel icy claws ripping through my heart, shredding it.
Anybody that’s capable of love can’t be all bad.
“I’m sorry, Maddie … I tried … I … really … tried … ” Ophelia bows her head, weeping.
I limp over to her. “Ophelia. I’m so sorry.” I reach out to touch her shoulder—
“Don’t touch me! ” she shrieks.
Make your selection now, Recruit Juniper.
“Goodbye, Maddie,” she whispers, pressing the button.
There’s a quick spark inside Maddie’s chamber. Then it goes dark.
The glow inside Cole’s chamber intensifies. Then the torch flame slides open.
I crowd in front of it. A cloud of frosty smoke billows out, obscuring the opening. Then a set of steps unfolds from the capsule, leading to my feet.
I step closer, arms held wide to hug him and never let him go—
Ophelia shoves me out of the way and starts to dash up the stairs toward Cole.
I leap on her and we crash into the railing. The thin metal gives, sending us both over the edge. My nails dig into the rusty metal of the rim to keep from going over as Ophelia dangles from my boot, which starts to slip off.
She stares up at me. “They made me kill my Maddie.” Her eyes turn to slits. “Take them down.”
She lets go, her body somersaulting once before slamming into one of the spires from the Lady’s crown.
Blood gushes from the wound, dripping down onto the Lady’s eyes, where it mixes with the drizzling rain and streams down her stone cheeks.
Pulling myself back over the edge, I collapse, a mangled heap of emotions.
The rain’s all but stopped now. Dawn seeps through the clouds, the fledgling rays warm against my ice-cold skin.
I look up and gasp.
It’s Cole.
He steps through the last wisps of the fading cloud of cryogenic frost like a beautiful angel from the old tales, coming down from the clouds. He’s rubbing his eyes as if he just woke up from one of his nightmares.
He sees me … and stops.
I can’t move.
All this time, I imagined running to him if I ever saw him again, scooping him up in my arms.
But now that he’s standing just a few feet away, I can only stare, paralyzed with emotion, overpowered by watching a wish I dared dream becoming a reality before my eyes.
My mind races. There are a million things I want to say.
When I open my mouth, all my thoughts logjam in my throat.
“Hi,” is the only thing that comes out.
“Hi,” he says back, staring at me with those big brown eyes.
Just hearing his voice again is like the first spring day after a long, hard winter. I bask in his brightness, taking him all in. “You’ve gotten taller,” I finally say. As I clear my throat, I feel my eyes growing moist.
His lower lip quivers. “Lucky, why are you sad?”
The words send a pang through my heart. “I was so afraid you’d think I wasn’t coming for you.”
He looks confused. “But you always take care’a me.” His eyes grow sheepish.
The dam breaks. I can’t contain the flood any longer. I bury my face in my hands. So much has happened … so many have suffered … and died. Yet I endure. And so does my brother. And we have each other. And as fleeting as that may be, it makes everything just a little less dark.
I feel his warm hands around my neck and I open my eyes.
“Are you okay, Lucky?”
Laughter bursts from my lips, from deep within a well I thought had dried up ages ago. “Yes, buddy. I’m okay … now.”
Somehow, I find the strength to lift him up.
Two Squawkers appear in the distance, our transport back to Infiernos no doubt.
Hugging Cole tight, we both stare out across the brilliant waters, watching as the strong current creates ripples that spread across the horizon as far as the eye can see.
forty-one
I press my face against the window of our tenement.
You can never really pull together the threads of an old life after they’ve unraveled.
It’s not like our neighborhood in the Parish is
any different. In fact, it’s still exactly the same as the last time Cole and I saw it—the cobblestone streets filled with potholes, garbage littering the alleys, plumes of smoke from the factories draping the horizon in a cloud of smog … the haunted faces of the passersby, hustling to get indoors before curfew. Nothing’s changed.
Yet everything has.
I sensed it the moment Cole and I disembarked from the transport that brought us home from Infiernos several days ago. We decided to walk home hand in hand rather than have a military escort.
It was in the way people sneaked looks at us, awe and fear crowding their faces. The way they averted their gaze rather than make eye contact.
We’re not part of them anymore. We’re not an Us. We’re a Them.
And the truth is, the Lucky who once played Dodge Piss in these streets and rummaged through Dumpsters … the same one that accepted living in squalor and an early death … that Lucky died during the Trials, along with the others.
I stare, for a moment, at the small wooden number 1 I plucked from above Mrs. Bledsoe’s door, then toss it into the hearth and watch as it smolders into ash.
We could have stayed at the Citadel these last few days, but as the victorious Recruit, I was granted permission to return here. The place we’ve always called home.
This is where it began. It seems fitting that this is where it should end.
Cole and I haven’t spoken about what our lives were like during the time we were apart. Maybe it’s for the best. And now, on this, our last night together, why spoil it with talk of terrible things?
Tomorrow morning, I ship out to parts unknown to begin my new life as an Imposer trainee. I glance at my neatly pressed uniform hanging from one of the rafters, sporting the shiny silver Imposer pin I was awarded for being the last Recruit left standing—
Just like Cassius.
But so different in every way.
Gideon was wrong when he told me we’d all been selected as Recruits because of the darkness within us. I was never supposed to be selected. I don’t fit the profile. Neither did Digory. Cassius made a critical error in trying to get his revenge. I’ll wear their uniform, say what they want to hear—even as I use every skill, every tactic, that they teach me to plot against them.
The Culling Page 30
