The Elect: Malevolent, a Dystopian Novel

by Ward, Tamryn

  A chill races through me. Am I about to witness another death? “No, it’s not. The game is still on. And you’re going to win. Let’s go.” I grab his hands. They’re hot. Very hot. He’s burning up. There isn’t much time. I need to get help. Almost frantic, I pull, but he doesn’t budge. The guy weighs a fucking ton. “Henry, get your ass up. Right now.”

  “No. I’m done.” He visibly inhales and chuckles on an exhale. “I deserve this, don’t I?”

  “Deserve?” I ask, surprised he’s admitting any wrongdoing. I admit he’s been an asshole. He’s done some horrible things. Absolutely horrendous. But does he deserve to die?

  “After all the shit I did to you, to the others.” A single tear drops onto his cheek.

  Shit, I don’t know what to say. He was a total monster. He hurt people. People I cared about. But I can’t say that to him now. Not when he’s so sick. Because I know if I do he’ll give up. “Henry…”

  His eyes meet mine for a full second. They are full of regret. His sooty lashes shimmer with tears. “I was such an asshole.”

  I can see he’s giving up. As much as I hated him before, I can’t let him do this. “No, you weren’t. You were competing. For something that meant--”

  He laughs. “Eva, you bitch. You’re going to lie to me now? Really?”

  I close my mouth. Our gazes lock again. “Okay, so you were an asshole.”

  “Asshole? I was a cut throat bastard.” He shakes his head. His teeth chatter louder, making his speech stuttery. “I’m s-s-sorry, you know. F-f-for everything.”

  “I know you are. This competition brought out the ugliest in some people. But that doesn’t mean you deserve to…to…” I can’t say it. I just can’t.

  “D-d-die. I’m going to die, Princess. Here.” He lifts a shaky hand. “But it’s okay. This is a good place to die.” He nods, rolls over, and closes his eyes.

  “No, you don’t!” I squat, slide my arms under his armpits and try to haul him up. No surprise, I fail. I can’t pick up two hundred plus pounds of lean muscle. He’s dead weight. Dead. Shit! There’s been too much of that already. Too much death. Too much pain. “Come on, Henry. You have to get up. We need to get you to the infirmary.”

  “I’m fine, Alice,” he mumbles. “Go back to sleep.”

  Alice. He thinks I’m Alice. Which means he’s either dreaming or hallucinating. No reason to correct him now. I just need to get his big, heavy ass up. “Henry, get up right now, dammit.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “I would love to.” Huffing and puffing, I try to get Henry to sit up. “You are one stubborn sonofabitch,” I grumble between heaving breaths. He flops left. He flops right. He flops forward. And then he falls back.

  There’s no way I’m going to get him off this ledge. I inhale, catching my breath and stare up at the sky. Thick clouds are blowing in from the west. The wind ruffles my hair. I smell smoke. A campfire, maybe. I hope it’s Mattie’s campfire.

  “Last chance,” I say to my unconscious partner. “Get up now or I’m leaving you.”

  No response.

  “Dammit. I don’t want to leave you here. You were a first rate asshole, but I can’t…” Standing, I stare down at him. He looks young and vulnerable now, with his eyes closed, his hair mussed. His skin is very pale, the dark stubble on his chin and above his lip now starkly contrasting the smooth milky white. I need to get back to the compound and get help. But I also need to make sure he’ll be safe, and I need to mark my trail so I can lead someone back here. I cover Henry with a blanket first then place some broken branches and leaves over him for camouflage. Once I’m satisfied he’s hidden, I climb up to the very top of the cliff face and look all around. From this vantage, I can see for miles.

  I can see the compound.

  I can see the smoke.

  It isn’t coming from a little campfire. It’s spilling from the compound, a towering plume of gray.

  Using my knife, I carve a mark in a nearby tree to mark Henry’s location and run toward the smoke. I run harder, faster than I’ve ever run in my life. Still, it feels like it’s taking too long. Every now and then I make another mark in a tree so that whoever comes for Henry will have a clear trail to follow.

  My lungs burn. My head throbs. My eyes water. But I don’t stop. Not after I trip on a tree root and slam hard into the packed earth. Not when ash falls from the sky and the air gets thick, making me choke. Not even when the forest’s chill slinks away, retreating from the heat of the compound’s towering inferno.

  I hear shouting. Gunfire. Screaming.

  This isn’t just a fire.

  My burning blood turns to ice. I push through a wall of thick brush, getting my first view of the entry gate. It’s wide open, unmanned. Two people are staggering out, clinging to each other, clothes and skin blackened by smoke.

  Holy shit!

  I charge at them, and they stagger and flinch, as if they’re afraid I’ll attack them. “I’m an NDA trainee. What’s happening?” I demand.

  “The compound’s under attack,” one of them says.

  “Terrorists,” says the other. She hacks until her eyes water and she wobbles. I reach for her, to help steady her. Quickly, she pulls away. “Run. Unless you want to die.”

  Run?

  Isn’t that the opposite of what they’ve been teaching us?

  Claire’s words pop into my head. Everything’s a test.

  Could this be a test?

  I look at the thick smoke. If it is a test, it’s a very complicated one. How likely would it be that they created this scenario, including a fake fire, to see if we would run? I suppose crazier things have happened. I need to get a better look at the compound to be sure.

  Moving cautiously, I dash through the gate, hiding behind vacant skyscrapers as I approach the main NDA facility. Now I don’t just see smoke; I see flames too. Flapping like wings out broken windows. At the base of the building I see people. Lying face down. Lying face up. Lying with blind, lifeless eyes staring at nothing.

  Dead.

  More death. More blood.

  This isn’t a test. It’s real.

  Panic grips me, winds around my insides, squeezing my heart and lungs like a massive constrictor. I can’t breathe. I can’t move.

  Jay. Where’s Jay?

  I need Jay.

  Maybe he needs me. Maybe he’s in there somewhere, hurt…or worse.

  Somehow I inhale. My lungs slowly inflate. The oxygen trickles to my brain. My thinking sharpens. I look at my hand. It’s gripping the edge of a building, cold brick.

  This is it, my test. Do I have what it takes to be a part of this or not? Nobody but I will determine that. Do I go back to the forest and look for Mattie? Or do I go in there?

  Terrorists.

  Could it have been terrorists shooting at us, too?

  I have to find Jay first. I have to make sure he’s okay. He’ll help me with Henry and Mattie.

  But to find him, I have to go in there, into a burning building…full of armed terrorists.

  Am I brave enough to try? Am I strong enough to make it out alive?

  I release the building, grab my gun and click off the safety. Holding it in front of my body, arms extended, I shimmy around the edge of the building, check for terrorists and then dash for the NDA’s front door. No bullets stop me. I pant when I scurry inside. My heart is pounding so hard it hurts. I’m terrified. But I’m not frozen with fear. I’m functioning. Kind of.

  The training has helped a little.

  I take a deep breath and then peer around a corner. I hear guns firing. I hear shouting. And alarms screaming. But I see nothing but smoke. It’s thick and burns my throat.

  To try to breathe easier, I rip the bottom of my shirt off and wrap it around my face. It doesn’t help much. My eyes blur, tears pouring into them to clear away the soot thick in the air. I stoop down, hoping the air will be clearer closer to the floor. It’s slightly better.

  Now breathing a little easier, I run in a
hunched-over position, as fast as I can, heading toward the main staircase, leading to the trainers’ apartments and training facilities. The deeper I go, the more blood and death I see. And the more terrified I become that I won’t find Jay in time. Men, women, people of all ages are strewn everywhere. Their death stares make my entire body shudder. I don’t want to look but I have to. I need to see if any of them are Jay.

  When I reach the bottom of the stairs the air is clearer, cooler. The smoke and flames are blazing on the upper floor, but I know, from having started many wood fires in my life, that they will eventually reach down here. I don’t have much time.

  At least it seems the terrorists have left this part of the building.

  I race to Jay’s apartment door. Every door in this hallway has been kicked in. I don’t bother checking those rooms. I race to the last one. Oh God. It’s open too. I dash inside. A man, lying face down. Directly in front of me. His head…it’s been…blood and bone and brain matter are everywhere. I heave, vomiting next to him.

  Jay? Is that Jay?

  I can’t look. I can’t. Tears burn my eyes. I hear something behind me and whirl around, jerking up the gun.

  Jay?

  Jay.

  It’s Jay. He’s alive.

  Recognition sparks in his eyes. “Eva!” He sprints through the door. Something catches my eye. Movement. Behind him. I don’t think. I shoot. The noise, in such a small place, makes my ears ring. Jay looks back. The man behind him looks at him, at me then coughs. Blood splatters from his mouth, little red droplets spewing everywhere. He staggers, lifts the gun he’s holding at his side. Jay shoots. The man’s head jerks back and down he goes, with a loud thump.

  Jay grabs my hand. “This way.”

  We run, skirting around fallen bodies and weaving between upturned furniture. He leads me down a corridor I haven’t been to before. We rush through a door. More stairs, these descending. I follow, without question, assuming we’re running to safety. At the bottom is a narrow, low-ceilinged space. Stale water fills the bottom. We splash through a winding maze of tunnels. Right. Left. Right again. The air stinks. I’m soaking, trembling from fear and cold. With every step the water sprays our bodies, saturating our clothes. Still we don’t slow. Not until we reach a ladder.

  “That way.” He pushes me toward it. “Go.”

  I grip a rung. I’m cold but the metal is colder. I pull myself up, up, up. I hear Jay behind me, footsteps echoing in the dank space. At the top is a heavy metal grill. I push and it lifts up.

  We’re outside. But are we safe?

  I poke my head out and check. All I see are grasses and weeds. I climb higher, finding we’ve exited onto an old road somewhere. As I push out onto the crumbling concrete and grass, I look back at the smoke cloud in the distance.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  Jay cups my face. “Why did you come back? Why? Didn’t you see the fire?”

  “Yes, I saw it, but Henry needs help. And I was worried.”

  “You were worried about Henry?” His hands slide down my body, pulling me closer. It’s reassuring, as I press my head to his chest, to hear his heartbeat. It’s steady, comforting. I’m so thankful he’s here with me now, alive, well, unharmed.

  “About…you,” I say. “I was worried about you.”

  Pushing against my shoulders, he forces me back and stares into my eyes. He looks confused, or maybe angry. I’m not sure which. “You came back for me?”

  My eyes are burning. It isn’t from smoke. I’m overwhelmed. The guns, the death, the terror. When I was in the midst of it, I’d been able to keep going. Keep running. Keep functioning. I’d been driven by the desperate need to find Jay. But now that he is safe, I’m safe, it’s all crashing on top of me, like a massive wave. I know I should be dragging Jay back to Henry. But I need a moment, just one, to fall apart a little.

  So many lives stolen. So much death and suffering. So much blood. I wonder if I will ever forget the horror of it all. For the first time ever I was keenly aware of my mortality. This morning none of those people had imagined they would die. But they did. And they might have wished, as they took their last breath that they could see their families or friends one last time. To say goodbye.

  “I came back for you,” I say once I can speak again. “I was so afraid you had been killed.”

  “Eva. You crazy girl.” He pulls me to him, and I close my eyes, press my face against his chest, and breathe.

  “I was so scared. I didn’t know if I’d find you,” I say as his warmth and scent envelop me in a cocoon.

  He loops his arms around my body, snugging me tighter against him. “You should have run, hidden somewhere safe.”

  “Doesn’t that go against everything we’ve been taught?”

  “It does. But dammit, Eva, you shouldn’t have come. It was too dangerous.”

  I tip my head back and look at his handsome face, realizing for the first time how much this boy has come to mean to me…already. I haven’t known him for long, but I can’t deny how I feel. I am falling for Jay, falling in love, after only knowing him for a few days. Falling hard. Falling fast. And that’s more terrifying than anything I’ve had to face yet. “I had to, Jay. I had to.”

  “You’re…” He sighs, kisses the top of my head.

  “I’m what?” I ask, my lips curling into a smile.

  “You’re impossible. And beautiful. And brave. And stubborn. And infuriating.”

  “I’ll take those as compliments.”

  “You should. I don’t say nice things about people too often.” We stand there for a few precious seconds, holding each other. Silent. Just being. Celebrating the fact that we haven’t lost each other. Catching our breath. I belong here, in his arms. But I can’t stand around any longer. Henry needs my help.

  “Henry,” I say. “He was shot.” I motion in the direction I think we need to go to find him. “I left him on a steep ridge, hidden.”

  “I think I know where to look. He was shot? How? By who?” Staring straight ahead, Jay starts walking. He takes long, land-gulping strides. I have to jog to keep up, but I don’t care. I’m eager to get back to him. Henry has been a thorn in my side since the beginning of this whole thing. He’s threatened me and tormented me. He’s attacked my friends. But I can’t stand the thought of him alone, sick…dying. No one deserves that, to die alone. “None of the recruits were supposed to have guns.”

  “I don’t know. At first I thought it was Damien. But then when I learned about the terrorists, I thought it might be them.”

  “No, I doubt that. It couldn’t be them.”

  “I know for certain at least one initiate had guns with him.” I pull the gun I’d been carrying out of my pants waistband. “Henry gave me this. He has at least one more.”

  Jay breaks into a run, and I keep pace with him. “George. Has to be him. Probably gave them all guns.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  He turns down a road that looks familiar. We’re on our way to find Henry. I know it. And I’m relieved, even though Jay has no medical supplies, nothing to help Henry. I’m hoping he can at least help me get Henry to someone who can care for him. “I…couldn’t say. He’s done a lot of things lately I don’t understand.”

  I tell him, “I marked my path back to Henry. He’s hidden. He needs medical care.”

  Our feet hit the crumbling pavement at the same time, creating a steady smack, smack, smacking sound. Getting more anxious with every step, I count them. One, two, three.

  As if Jay can tell how nervous I’m getting, he says, “We’ll find him. We’ll get help. Where are the others? Alice? Fran?”

  “Alice and Fran are both dead. I haven’t found Mattie.”

  He stops running suddenly, glances back at the burning building then starts running again. “Shit.”

  “What is it?” I check behind us. I don’t see anyone following. Did he see something I didn’t?

  Jay shakes his head. “I’ll explain later. Let’s
go.”

  Chapter 28

  Jay doesn’t say a word when we find Henry. He doesn’t have to. I know.

  Henry’s dead.

  I gulp. Tears burn. My throat feels raw. My heart clenches.

  How ironic. I despised this boy, but still I’m crying. Crying for him. I drag my hand across my face. “I waited too long,” I say. “I shouldn’t have wasted so much time.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered.” Jay gently pulls the blanket over Henry’s head and stands. He turns sad eyes to me. “There’s nothing that could have been done.” He releases a long sigh, sits, and rakes his fingers through his hair. Shoulders slumped, head cradled in his hands, he stares at the ground.

  He’s taking this hard too, almost as hard as me.

  “Henry. Alice. Fran. I thought the trainees would be safe out here,” he says. His voice is very low, husky, and breathy.

  I’m slightly confused by his reaction. While he has been the kinder trainer of the two, he hasn’t shown a great deal of emotion…until now. He’s very upset by Henry’s death, as if he’s blaming himself.

  “What do you mean?” I crouch down so my eyes are level with his. I drag my arm across my face. Salty tears smear.

  He still won’t look at me. Why?

  “I didn’t know about the guns,” he mumbles. “George must have known.”

  “I know you wouldn’t have let anyone take a gun out here if you’d known.” I set a hand on his knee. “Jay, this isn’t your fault. It’s George’s. He was the one who told Damien he could use deadly force if necessary. Damien took it too far.”

  “No.” He lifts his eyes. They’re red, watery. His face is flushed. “It is my fault. All of it. Fran. Alice. Henry.”

  Now I’m even more confused. “How is any of this your fault?”

  He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by a sound in the forest. I spin around, gun in hand, heart in my throat. I see movement, a flash of color and then a face. Mattie’s face.

  I drop the gun and run to her, practically knocking her off her feet. “Mattie! I’m so relieved to see you’re alive.”