Controllers (Book 1)

by Lynnie Purcell

  A clock hangs over the large door. I can't tell time. To me, time has always been about where the sun is in the sky. Morning, noon, afternoon and night. Breaking it down further than that is silly, but Maria can read the clock above the door and tells me down to the second what part of the day we are in.

  I wish she couldn't.

  I sleep on the hard floor, curled up on the side that does not feel like someone is trying to brand me with a hot poker. I keep my hand pressed against my ribs even in sleep. I dream of the forest and Max. We're hunting. The wind is in my face. The flower is on the rock, only now it's a swirling mixture of all colors. It dances with the wind. Max speaks. He wants me to hurry. I feel the urgency of his words. Time is running out. If I don't reach him soon, he will die.

  "Bree!" Maria whispers in my ear.

  My eyes open at the call and I sit up. My head is pounding painfully, and my body is sore, but at least I managed some sleep. Maria has deep bags under her eyes and her face is taut with exhaustion. It's clear she did not sleep at all.

  Benny is back. He stands in the door with his wicked smile on his face. My hand itches with the desire to slap it off for him. I settle for staring at him. He looks down at the device in his hands and calls out numbers.

  "100, 232, 6, 19, 22, 465, 500, 2, 117, and 96," he says.

  No one moves. They stare at him fearfully, wondering why their numbers have been called. They fear they have failed. The silence is full of tension. Are they about to be killed? Are the people who haven't been called in trouble? No one has an answer.

  "Get up, dregs!" Benny roars.

  A small girl no bigger than a minute stands first. She squares her shoulders and marches over to Benny. She's brave. She stops in front of him and he nods once in approval. I wonder if he fought her. She does not look nearly as battered as the rest of us. Maybe she managed to impress him. The others form a queue behind her.

  "Down the hall," Benny barks. "Run!"

  The girl moves around him and takes off running, her grey shoes squeaking on the hard floor as she moves. The others follow her. The guards in the hall yell at them to run faster. The noises die away as Benny steps out of the room and closes the door again.

  Maria and I share a look of worry. The first group has been sorted. We don't know what to expect when our time comes. I hope more than anything that she will be in my group. It's good to have a friend, even in hell. I lean my back against the wall and take a deep breath. I picture Max's face again to remember why I am putting up with so much pain. I can deal with anything. I'm strong. Weakness will get us both killed.

  "Six a.m.," Maria adds quietly.

  Three hours later, Benny returns to the room. He calls an additional ten people out. There are fifteen of us left. Does getting called last mean something is wrong? What if my number is not called at all?

  At noon we are brought trays of food. Despite the fact that my stomach feels like it's filled with worms, I eat everything I touch. I still can't get used to how much food they give us. Does the government have that much food to waste? I tuck a piece of bread and a slice of cheese into my pocket for later. There's no telling when they'll feed us again. Maria notices and does the same.

  Two hours after lunch, Benny returns. My heart races at the sight. Is it my turn? Is it Maria's? What will happen?

  He lists out another set of ten numbers. Maria jumps slightly when he says, "105," and stands. Benny does not call my number. He leaves again when they're gone. I look at the other five people. The skinny boy is with me. He's no longer trembling, but his eyes are full of fear. He's afraid that being picked last is death. He seems afraid of a lot. The other three are equally as terrified. All of them look like they have been beaten the most by the guards. They failed the fighting test too. Was I supposed to pass? Was I supposed to show I can fight? Did Ace give me bad advice in an attempt to weed out the weak? I curse his name at the thought.

  No one speaks as we wait. I had never thought silence could be so loud. Hours later, the door opens for the last time. Benny is back. "Up," he commands.

  I don't remember choosing to stand, but my body obeys him automatically. I hate how quickly I'm responding to his commands. I want to resist. The thought passes quickly. Survival is more important than being foolishly brave. Again, I am the first person to the door. The others cower behind me. I wonder if I have turned into a human shield for them.

  Benny doesn't make us run. He gestures us out of the door with a flick of his wrist and then closes it behind me. As he does, I realize that the hall is full of people. They're all wearing red armbands to match the walls. The most interesting thing to me about the people is the fact that they are so muscled and big. They're fighters. Women and men alike ripple with violence. Their every movement has purpose. They step out of Benny's way as he passes. No one blocks his path despite most of them being bigger and tougher.

  "This is the level you would have been put on if any of you had even an iota of ability," Benny tells us pleasantly.

  I get the distinct impression that him talking to us is strange. He normally doesn't waste his time talking to the dregs. He's taunting us. I have a feeling it has something to do with the way Ace rescued me. He does not like that he was made to look a fool in front of the others. Ace scares him. He would never talk back to him, but I'm not Ace. The lecture is for my benefit. He's reminding me of our fight.

  "Dregs on this level learn to become proper citizens. They learn to become part of the police force that protects the city."

  Do they become the same guards that torture us with shock sticks? How can anyone agree to dish out such punishment after having lived through it?

  He walks up to the next level, the walls are painted orange. There are not nearly as many people hanging out in the halls. They look frightened and weak. They share none of the lower level's courage.

  "This level is for people at the lower end of things," Benny adds. He glances over at me. I think he is going to tell me I belong with them, but then he turns to the skinny boy. He looks at his armband and checks it against the device in his hand. "Go to that room there. Your bed is at the far end."

  The boy goes to the room Benny points out and steps inside without a word. He doesn't care if he is the worst ranked person in the entire facility. He's just glad he's not dead.

  "Pity," Benny adds. "Most in the orange level don't make it very far."

  I suddenly understand why there are so few people in the halls. They often fail the tests that I feel coming our way and are killed.

  He walks up the stairs and I feel a swoop of warm, happy relief. I may not care about being the best, but I don't want to be the worst, either. I want to be exactly in the middle so that no one pays me any attention.

  Two people are dropped off on the yellow level. Benny excuses them with a flick of his wrist and impatient sigh when they don't walk away fast enough. That leaves two of us, a tall boy and me. The boy is serious and calm. His eyes hold fear, but his expression is somber. He does not look like the others; he is not a trodden-upon rodent. I refocus on Benny as he speaks again. He's still taunting me.

  "For every thirtieth person, there is one who doesn't make it through training. They don't have what it takes to be a citizen...They're weak. Some of them are even...rebellious. The government treats all rebelliousness like a disease. It must be gotten rid of before it can spread."

  He knows my past. He thinks me a rebel. I understand his willingness to kill me. I am his worst enemy, or so he thinks.

  We walk down the pink hall. I wonder if this will be my hall. It is directly in the middle ranking wise. It's the perfect cover. People of all shapes and sizes are in the hall. They stare at us curiously as we pass. Some of them can fight, some of them are thinkers, and some of them are a mixture of the two. Benny's pace does not slow.

  "The government is willing to take chances on the young, to give them the opportunity to serve the city, but they also know a bad apple when they see it. They put the person down, li
ke a rabid dog, when it's clear they can't be saved."

  I grab my pant's legs again to keep from acting out on my impulse to attack him. My hands are trembling with rage.

  "That's what they're going to do to your brother," he adds.

  I don't know how he knows about Max, but he finally gets a reaction out of me. I turn to him angrily, my eyes blazing with hate. He stops walking and faces me. His expression is complacent. He's happy at the idea of the looming fight. He doesn't think he'll lose. The tall boy becomes a statue behind me.

  "Is there a problem, dreg?" Benny asks.

  I'm practically panting as I try to keep my anger under control. I remind myself to be weak, not to show them what I'm capable of, but I can't help my reaction. Does he know something about Max? Does he speak the truth? Are they going to hurt my brother? Can I stop them?

  "No Ace to help you this time," Benny says. He takes a step closer. "There's just you and me."

  I realize what he's saying. He can kill me if I attack him. No one will think twice about his reaction. I remember Honey's words. They'll punish me severely for attacking the guards. Attacking the head guard has to mean instant death. A hand gently grabs my shoulder. The tall boy has finally moved. He's warning me to keep my calm. I turn away from Benny at the touch, knowing the boy is right. There are cameras all along the hall. No one will care that Benny goaded me into a fight. They will just care that I hit him first.

  Benny loses his look of amusement as I turn away. The tall boy has taken away his fun. He pulls out his shock stick and jams it into the boy's back. He lets it linger far longer than any of the previous shocks. The boy screams and drops to one knee. Benny turns and catches me in the stomach as I reach out to the boy. I drop to my knees. It feels like my veins are on fire. I want to scream but I keep my teeth clenched. I won't give Benny the satisfaction of hearing my pain.

  "Mr. Friedman..." a stuffy voice floats down the hall. "May I have a word with you?"

  My vision sparking with black dots, I look up and see Willem. He doesn't look particularly bothered by us being shocked into oblivion. His eyes are firmly on Benny, and his expression is incurious. There is no sympathy in his face.

  "Of course," Benny says pleasantly.

  Willem takes Benny to the end of the hall and they chat for several minutes. It's long enough for me to reclaim my strength. I reach out and touch the boy on the arm. "Are you okay?" I ask.

  "I'm fine. I wake myself up every morning with electric shocks. It's a hell of a kick to the brain." He smiles at me kindly.

  His voice is warm and resonating. I sense a deep humor that reminds me of Max. I smile back at him.

  "Explains why you're stupid enough to help me," I say.

  "Probably," he agrees.

  "I'm Bree," I say quietly.

  "Nathan," he replies.

  "Up, dregs! Now!" Benny commands.

  Nathan and I share a grim look, prepared for more torture, then stand. I stare at Benny's neck to keep from looking him in the eyes. He's not finished with torturing me, but his orders have changed.

  "Twenty-three, you're with Willem. Nine, you're with me. Move!"

  Benny raises his stick in a warning and Nathan takes a step forward. Benny pushes him down the hall roughly and they disappear up the metal stairs. I watch them walk, hoping Benny doesn't take his anger with me out on Nathan. Willem steps in front of me. He sniffs and I hear the snot in his sinuses move around again. It makes me cringe. My fear returns. Why is the lead scientist talking to me? Did I do something wrong?

  "Twenty-three," he says, looking at my armband. He pulls out a small cylindrical device and taps on it. It folds out into the device that seems so common around the facility. "There's been a clerical error."

  I stare at him. What kind of error?

  "Your test results have been corrupted by a computer malfunction. They were accidentally deleted."

  "What does that mean?" I ask.

  "It means I have to assign you to the orange level until you can retake the test."

  "What?! No!" I say. He is a stuffy man with a cold demeanor, but I have to try to appeal to his humanity, if he has any. I have to do something. "Isn't there anything else you can do?"

  "I'm afraid not," he says.

  "That level is a death sentence," I say. "Please. Help me."

  It is the first time I have asked anyone for anything.

  He turns and looks at me. I think there's sympathy in his eyes, but it could just be the shift in light. The moment is gone before I fully register meaning.

  "I can put you in green," he says. "No one will notice. Eighty percent of our trainees belong to that level. But I warn you, it will not be easy. If you fail too many of the tests, they will kick you out."

  What a roundabout way of saying they'll shoot me...

  "And if you start failing miserably, I'll kick you out myself," he says. "I won't have my decision to help you come back around to me."

  I nod at him. He isn't doing me a favor. We aren't friends. He's simply playing to his curiosity. A part of him wants to know if I'll make it. The scientist is interested in the experiment. I have the distinct impression he doubts the likelihood of my survival.

  "Follow me," he says.

  He doesn't poke, yell, or threaten, but I do exactly as he says. His voice carries the weight of a man with power to his name. It's power Benny lacks. It frightens me. Willem reminds me of Ace. They both know how to threaten without raising their voices. They know how to bring terror without raising their hands.

  Willem takes me to the green level and stops in front of a door that looks like all the others in the hall. He eyes me for a solid minute. He's assessing me. I don't understand what he's looking for. He nods once and then turns away abruptly.

  I turn away from him, trying to understand the curious turn of events, and put my hand on the handle of the door. The door flies open and Maria looks back at me. Her smile of greeting is wide and full of relief.

  "I was worried about you," she says. "It's been hours."

  "Yeah," I agree, my mind on my conversation with Willem. How had they lost my test results? How can that be? I am not the technological maven that Angela had been, but I know enough about computers to know they rarely lose data without human intervention.

  "Are you okay?" she asks.

  I look down at her and raise a skeptical eyebrow. How can any of us be okay? She knows what the expression means. She shrugs at me. She's decided to be upbeat about her circumstances. She's not going to let them take away her good humor.

  "Come on," she gestures me inside the room.

  I step inside. There are two rows of beds inside the room. There are fifty beds in total. Not all of them are in use. Some of the girls are in their underwear and look like they have come from taking a bath. Others have their heads propped up on pillows as they talk and hang out. Less are reading from the square devices.

  Maria takes me to the last bed in the row on the left. An armband is on the bed. It's green. She already has hers around her arm, right under the grey one that lists her number. She picks up the armband and holds it out to me.

  "The others say it's best to put it on right away. They'll check on us later and will punish us if we're not wearing it."

  I slip the armband on and then sit down on the bed. She sits on the bed next to me and I notice a trunk under her bed. A sleeve is poking out from under the lid. She notices my stare.

  "They gave us clothes. They're all my size. Maybe that's what took them so long," she says. She frowns as she looks at my bed. There is no trunk under it. "I don't know why they didn't bring you one."

  I hesitate. I don't know if sharing Willem's words is a good idea. I trust Maria, but I don't know if the information will get her in trouble. I have to be cautious.

  "Maybe there was a mix up," I say. "I'm sure they'll get around to it."

  She shrugs noncommittally. "I've been talking to the other girls," she informs me.

  "Oh, yeah?" I question. I l
ean back on the bed and instantly feel like it's too soft. I've spent too long sleeping on the ground to like the added layers or softness. I don't move, however. The pain in my rib has subsided slightly and I don't want to ruin the moment.

  "Being in green is a good thing," she says. "Most people pass. Orange...Now that's another matter."

  I stare at my hands and try to keep my emotions off my face.

  "They say that we have to learn things...like history, math, all the normal stuff that someone in the city should already know."

  The panic is instantaneous.

  "You mean...reading?" I ask.

  "Of course reading," she says. She sees my expression and quickly guesses the truth. "Oh..." She thinks about it for a second. Her decision comes easily. "I'll teach you."

  "I don't know if I can do it. I've never read anything in my life," I say.

  "You can do anything you want. And if you don't..."

  Her words focus me. She's right. It's learn or die.

  "We have to take fighting lessons as well and play what they call the game. They say the tests are nonstop," she adds.

  Everything is a test. I've already learned this.

  "The first round of training lasts two months. We're put into another round of training after that. It's in a different part of the building. No one knows what happens then," she says. "They also say that we can move up in down in colors based on how well we do. Blue is the best. They get all the good jobs on the outside."

  "I don't want to be the best," I say. "I just want to make it out of here alive."

  Maria nods in agreement. "The people who are sorted into red aren't ranked. They either pass or fail. I wonder if they picked the best fighters or if it was the test..."

  I don't want to talk about the test. It makes me uncomfortable.

  "When do we start lessons?" I ask.

  "In the morning," she says. "The guards don't bully us once we start lessons. They trust us to go to class. But they're always around, always in the halls. If you don't show up to class, they'll find you. One of the girls still has scars on her back from where they beat her..."

  Don't miss class. Don't stand out. Don't talk back to the guards. Don't show disrespect. Don't let them know what I'm capable of. Don't give up.

  I begin to wonder if there is anything I can do.

  "Oh, and if we're good for the first two weeks, we get let out of the facility with an escort every week following."

  I shoot her a look of disbelief. She catches the look.

  "They say that letting us out prevents rebelliousness, disease, and helps better integrate us into society. The guards they send with us keep us from escaping."

  I picture Benny's face in my mind. The aftereffects of the shock are still moving through my body along with the fear. I know she's right. Escape will be just as impossible on the outside. The guards, the police, the RFA, the wall, and Max keep me chained to the city. But the visit might give me time to find out where Max is being held. If I can find a way to make sure he's okay, I will. Not knowing is killing me.

  Maria leans back on her bed. "This is going to be a long two weeks."

  I agree. I close my eyes sleepily and feel myself drift off, Maria's voice still filling me in on the things she has learned. She's still talking as I slip into the dream world.

  I wake up the next morning at six a.m. I take my first shower. It's nothing like bathing in the rivers around camp. The water is warm and comes from a device that sprays it on me. It's nothing like having to splash ice-cold water onto my body from a fast-moving stream. Washing in the winter rarely happened. It's the first difference I actually like. The water turns on automatically as I step inside. I jump at the sensation, then take my cues from the others. I move quickly to wash before the water turns off. I don't trust it will stay on. When I'm clean, I change into clothing that was delivered to me in the night. Everything is soft and warm. I hate it.

  I meet Maria in the hall and we walk up to the blue level together to eat breakfast. The large room is full of people. There is life and movement and even something close to cheer as people talk. I didn't notice how much life there was on my previous visit. We get in line and wait for our turn at the food table. When one plate empties of food it slides into the table and another dish takes its place. The curiosity of the black glass is nowhere near as interesting as my hunger.

  I fill my plate up and pour water out of a pitcher. It's different from the water I'm used to. It tastes like it has been processed by chemicals. The water at camp was better. Maria and I turn and look at the room when our plates are full. There are no seat assignments, but it's clear that the different ranks are supposed to sit together. There are two full tables of people wearing red, three tables of green, one of orange, two of pink, and two of yellow. Blue only has one table. Being at the top is not easy. The stress of it is in some of the people's faces.

  I start to sit at the end of the green table, but movement to my left catches my attention. It's Nathan. He's gesturing for me to sit near him. He's also wearing a green armband. I nudge Maria and we join him on his end of the table. He's sitting with two other boys. One boy has dreadlocks that remind me of Leslie. The other has a shaved head.

  "Hi," Nathan says.

  "Hi," I reply. I look over at Maria and see she's looking at Nathan curiously. I introduce her and Nathan tells me that his two friends are named Josh and Sam. Sam is the one with dreadlocks. The dreads wave at me whenever he shakes his head.

  "I hear that the first week of lessons is the hardest," Nathan says after the introductions. "They try to weed people out quickly."

  "I don't want to pass," Josh says. "I just want out of this hell hole."

  No one replies. We all want the same thing, but there's no sense in wishing for something that will never happen. Playing along is the only way out.

  "I miss my family," Sam adds. "I don't know if they took my little brother. No one will tell me anything."

  "You can find out when you get out of here," I say.

  It's my plan. Why can't it be his?

  Sam nods again, sending his dreads to waving. I look at him sympathetically. Nathan realizes that focusing on our families won't help us. It'll just depress us and make the day ahead harder.

  "They say we have to play laser tag here. We might start it today."

  "What's laser tag?" I ask.

  "It's tag, with lasers," Nathan says.

  Maria laughs at him. "Thanks for making that so clear."

  "You run around and try to get the other people before they get you. You have guns that shoot lasers at receivers. It's a game."

  He means it's a test, the game, but it's the second time the game has been mentioned. It must be important. I wish I knew how they graded the tests. I wish I could figure out if playing the games means something more. It's impossible to know without information.

  We eat and talk about the things we've heard from the others, then Maria reads the time and tells us it's time to go. I have a moment of doubt as we walk out of the cafeteria. How will I make it through a day of written lessons when I can't read or write?

  I'm about to find out.

  Chapter 12