The Culling: Book 1 (The Culling Series)

by Tricia Wentworth

  We keep driving in our assigned SUV and I get sleepy. Since it seems we are not stopping anytime soon, I let myself nod off. I need to get as much rest as possible for whatever is to come in the future. I’m just glad I’m on solid ground and not on that stupid, flying porta-potty.

  Soon I am lightly bumped and find that I slumped over on Sarge’s shoulder while I was sleeping. Jamie seems to have bumped me, and judging by the fact that we were still driving, he must have done so without wanting to make a scene. I find it odd that literally not one word has been spoken since we left the plane. My guards seem to be back to how they were being when I first met them and was intimidated by them.

  As we pull up, I see it is only a short distance to what I assume is Mile High. It looks like what I pictured when Jamie told me football games used to be played there, but far prettier as the outer building is all glass. Instead of the middle holding a football field, the middle now holds a monster of a building towering up above the outside circle of the stadium. Even in the dark, it is more than impressive. Lights on in the middle of the building guide our way. I can also see a few lights in the outer circle of the stadium. I haven’t seen such a tall building post-Trident look so extravagant and modern. It looks sturdy too, like it has been there for forever, but I know it hasn’t.

  Since we are the last SUV to pull up, we sit and wait while Benjamin and Agnes get out and head up the sidewalk toward the huge buildings. I find it funny that no one is awake, and there is nothing going on. Not that I was expecting a welcoming committee or anything, but we have arrived in the dead of the night so there is nothing and no one about.

  Then it’s my turn. Jamie and Sarge unbuckle their seatbelts and open their doors at the exact same time. I unbuckle mine and turn to the right toward where Jamie was sitting at the open door. While Sarge goes around back to get my suitcase, Jamie is holding the door open and offers a hand to help me out. I take it. I take a deep breath and then straighten my clothes, silently wondering how messy my hair looks right about now.

  We walk the 30 or so yards to the entrance of Mile High. Unable to keep up the silence and feeling like a bundle of nerves, I jokingly whisper, “Ready or not, here I come.”

  Although neither of my guards says anything, I am fairly certain if I looked at them they would be smiling. Or I hope so anyway.

  They lead the way through two doors where another pair of guards are standing. After the three of us put an eye in this weird laser thing, we go through two huge metal doors. Then they lead me through a couple of hallways and around a few corners and then we are outside again, walking up to the very tall building in the middle that nearly attaches to the outer building.

  As Sarge uses a special key and code, we enter through huge metal doors. This time it takes a fingerprint from all of us to go through two more doors. I am about to think we are never going to get there, when on the other side of the metal doors are two more doors, but pretty and not the usual metal. These are instead intricately made of iron and wood. Inside the pretty doors is an entry room beautifully decorated with couches and even a water fountain. White columns are everywhere and there is even a chandelier over the center of the foyer. I don’t feel like I am here for a political competition, I feel like I’m a guest in some sort of castle.

  This is Mile High! I have never seen anything like it and the feel would be homey, except for the military station right inside the doors and the guards that seem to be around every nook and cranny. Sarge and Jamie lead the way to the elevator, which is also a first for me. I would have liked to stay and look at the artwork placed along the walls, but apparently we have stuff to do.

  The doors slide shut and they push a key in and hit the button “12”. We slowly move upwards and my stomach feels a little dip, and then it is over. When the doors slide open, I again have never laid eyes on anything like what I see. I have read about places like this, places called hotels where people used to stay when they traveled. There used to be a hotel in almost every city. I just cannot imagine that many people needing to stay somewhere that is not their home and I cannot fathom the need for so many rooms in one building.

  Outside the doors is a small sitting area with huge, fluffy couches covered in matching pillows and the biggest television I have ever seen. In the corner of the sitting area is a fridge with bottles of water or soda, and a pantry. There is also a table with coffee containers and coffee cups.

  There is a woman standing with a clipboard in a skirt suit that greets us as we walk out of the elevator doors. Her hair is pulled back and if I had to guess, I would say she is about 30 years old. She looks important. Just the way she holds her clipboard demands respect.

  “Welcome, and congratulations on making it to the Culling. My name is Elle. I am going to show you to your quarters and then later you will be going downstairs for a meeting with the other girls during breakfast.” She gives me a tight smile.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” I smile at her, ready to see where I will be staying and get that first meeting with the girls over with.

  “Please call me Elle. You are Ms. Reagan Scott, correct?”

  “You are correct, uh…ma’am,” I stammer, unable to call someone who seems so important something as casual as their first name. My mom would be beside herself if I did.

  She smiles again and leads the way down the hallway walking purposefully in her three-inch heels. We are about halfway down and pass four doors before she stops and says, “Here we are. Home sweet home.”

  The lights are already on and I realize we are on the floors that I saw lit up when walking up to the building. All other coherent thoughts leave me as I’m looking at the most amazing room I have ever seen. It’s HUGE. In the corner, I have a small kitchen sink and fridge across from a decent sized closet.

  Across from the small kitchen area, I have a closet and a beautiful bathroom with a huge shower/tub. The tile is gorgeous and the bathroom countertop is a creamy tan with dark, almost-purple streaks and swirls in it. In the main living area along one wall is a mammoth of a bed with a white fluffy comforter and about a dozen pillows of all shapes and sizes. A small couch and a couple of gray upholstered chairs with colorful pillows sit around a beautiful, dark wooden coffee table in-between the bed and the bathroom area. A large picture window with curtains separates that wall from the opposite wall, where a dresser, a desk with drawers, and a chair are found. The desk and dresser are both in the same dark wood as the coffee table.

  I’m not sure if I’m more impressed with all the fluffy pillows or the insanely soft carpet beneath my feet. I smile as I realize if I were by myself I would consider making what we call in Omaha a “snow angel” on that soft carpet. I girlishly giggle thinking about it and turn bright red in embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry,” I say trying to compose myself. “I just have never seen anything like this before.”

  “So it will do?” Elle smiles amused.

  “It will more than do,” I nod in agreement.

  “Please take your time then and unpack. It is almost 5:45 am right now. Breakfast will be served at 6:30 downstairs. One of your guards will remain outside of your room and will escort you down when you are ready. Oh, and the gift on the bed is yours to open and keep. See you soon,” she smiles once more and swiftly leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

  The woman just walks like she dominated the world. I wish I had that much assertiveness.

  Trying to act my age, I decide to unpack my things. Upon opening the dresser to put in my belongings, I see it is already completely full of clothes that are exactly my size with one drawer left empty for my things. Jeans, shirts, pajamas, and more fill the drawers. I walk to the closet by the bathroom and find the same thing. Dresses and skirt suits in different colors fill it full in exactly my size as they lay in clear protectors and all are without a single wrinkle. I put away what little I brought and stow the suitcase away in the closet while I itch to play with all of the new clothes. I look at the time and see that I o
nly wasted about ten minutes.

  Unable to help myself, I then walk over to the gift on the comforter and pull the ribbon on the bow. I open the box and find the most beautiful watch I have ever seen. It is silver with a big face and roman numerals for numbers. Although it looks heavy, I pick it up and am surprised to find that is just as light as my plastic watch.

  There is a handwritten note with the box that reads, “Congratulations and welcome to Denver. Please wear this as my gift to you. Sincerely, President Maxwell.”

  Considering the vagueness of the letter, I am assuming all of the girls got a watch or something similar. I rub my hand over the handwriting and feel the little bumps telling me that the note is real. Even if all of the girls got the same gift, he still took the time to sign the letter in my possession. I debate putting it on now or waiting until later and determine that I absolutely do not want to come across as ungrateful, so on it goes.

  I then go to the bathroom and wash my face, brush my teeth, and apply a light and natural looking layer of makeup which was provided for me in one of the drawers. How did they know what colors I would need? I try to fluff up my hair but it seems like a lost cause so I leave it. I look at my watch to see that the time is just past 6:10. I feel myself starting to get sleepy, and finally give into temptation as a means to keep me awake.

  I run over to a clear area in the carpet and lay down on it while moving my arms above my head at the same time my feet go in and out thus making a snow angel on my carpet, or a “carpet angel”, in this case. Laughing, I get up and fall back on the bed letting the pillows suck me in with a giant “poof”. I sigh, thinking it will be wonderful to sleep on this bed for however long I last. As comfortable as this bed is, I hope it is more than just a night.

  I walk back to my huge bathroom mirror, poke my cheeks a few times, and seeing that I look more awake now, decide that I will just head down to breakfast early. My mom always says, “If you are on time, you are late.” I figure I just as well get this initial meeting with the girls over and done with. It is time to meet the competition. And hopefully just the girls today. I don’t want to deal with that whole boy thing right now.

  I open my door and peek my head out to find Jamie standing outside my door. I look up and down the hall and see numerous other guards outside of the doors. Is it really necessary that we have a guard at all times? Weird. Where do they think we will go?

  “Ready to go down, Ms. Scott?” Jamie asks with a smile and I wonder how he is still smiling and in a jolly mood when he has had even less sleep than I have.

  “Yes, I think so,” I reply.

  He offers his arm and I loop mine in his.

  We take a quick elevator ride and walk a short distance to a cafeteria. We pass four or five guards outside the door before we turn the corner to actually enter the room. Five long tables are decorated as if royalty really was here and real flower arrangements even rest on each table. There isn’t food on the tables yet, but the smells! I know it is around here somewhere.

  Five girls are already here. Two are talking and seem to know one another. They are dressed in dresses, have fancy makeup on, and curled hair. The other three girls in the room have sort of isolated themselves but are sitting all at the same long table.

  “May I get you something to drink, Ms. Scott? Coffee? Water? Tea? Orange juice?” Jamie asks, pointing to the drink station behind us in the corner of the room.

  “Some hot tea as well as a bottle of water would be great, if you don’t mind,” I smile at him politely while still trying to figure out the game plan of where I should sit.

  This is like school all over again. I don’t really want to interrupt the two girls already chitchatting. I remember one of the two right away. Marisol. The mean looking one. The other one is from Denver also. I think her name starts with an “S”.

  “Here you are, Ms. Scott,” Jamie hands me the tea in one hand and the bottle of water in the other, still sounding awfully chipper. He must be a morning person. He then quietly adds, “I’ll be just outside the door, good luck.”

  Going with my gut and deciding it would be rude to interrupt the chatting girls that stopped only to give me a look over and then kept going, I move to the second table where the girls are spaced out. I sit down and set my tea and bottle of water down across from one of the girls, thinking it is already a small miracle I didn’t spill anything. The thought makes me smile.

  “Hi, I’m Reagan.” I try to keep smiling though I’m very nervous.

  “I’m Attie,” the girl with the baby blue eyes and soft looking light brown hair smiles back.

  “And you are?” I say to the other girl sitting about ten feet from us.

  “Cadence,” she says even more shy than Attie, if that were possible.

  “Do you want to scoot down and sit with us? If I don’t talk to someone, all I am going to think about is that smell, and I may try to eat someone,” I say only half kidding. I’m not sure why I always use humor in intense situations, but it could get me in trouble here if I’m not careful.

  This time Cadence smiles while scooting closer to Attie. “Yeah, I will sit with you guys.”

  Phew. Two down; Attie and Cadence. Only 47 more girls to go.

  I try looking at the far end of the table where the other girl is sitting, but she has her head in a book and very obviously is not interested in making friends. I remember from our packets that her name is October. She is the genius one that teaches at the collegiate level.

  “So, Attie, where are you from?” I ask.

  “Vegas, you?”

  “Omaha,” I smile and then turn my attention to Cadence, “And how about you Cadence?”

  “Detroit,” she answers. It makes sense that the three of us were spaced out in the cafeteria since we are from different townships. Why October and Cadence aren’t sitting together, both from Detroit, I don’t know, but I’m sure it has to do with October giving off the vibe that she doesn’t want to be here.

  Trying to keep the conversation going I say, “I don’t know about you guys, but our rooms are huge.”

  “Oh my goodness. I don’t know what to do first, take a bath with all of those amazing smells they left for us, or take a long, hard nap in my bed,” Attie giggles, rubbing her hands together as she does and I begin to think that she isn’t that shy at all.

  I laugh, take a sip of my tea, and look at my watch to see the time realizing that a whole bunch of girls will be arriving very shortly. Then I notice the other two girls wearing their watches. Attie’s is gold and Cadence’s is a rosy pink color. It is apparent that we all have received watches from the President. What a kind gesture.

  “I wonder what’s on the agenda today or if we get to take a nap,” I offer, keeping the conversation going again.

  We all look to the door as another girl arrives. I think she was from the Seattle bunch but I’m not sure. As her guard gets her a soda, she turns to go sit by October. That is what I would have done also in seeing two groups already talking. I also see her watch is bronze in color. What is the significance of the difference in colors, or is there any?

  Three more girls come in, one right after the other, keeping our attention. One must be from Vegas because she knows Attie and heads on over to our table without hesitating, sitting in the empty spot between Attie and Cadence.

  “This is Renae, guys. Renae, this is Reagan and Cadence,” Attie introduces her.

  “Hey. And oh my goodness. That smell. What is it?” she asks.

  “My guess is bread, chocolate, something fruity, and either pancakes or waffles,” I say sniffing the air. The bread smell reminds me of our bread factories in Omaha and makes me realize how far I have come in just the last 24 hours.

  “The girl is from Omaha, so she would know,” Attie tells Renae and I like her even more. I wish I could remember information like she is though. She seems to immediately know everyone. She is shy at first, but very charismatic. I already completely adore her.

  Two more girls co
me in. The taller one I recognize as being from Denver. Thinking she will obviously go sit with the other Denver girls, I am surprised when she waves at the two other girls then sits down right beside me.

  “Vanessa,” she holds out her hand to me.

  “Reagan,” I say, shaking her hand rather surprised.

  She takes a sip of her coffee like it’s her lifeline and whispers, “I so need this.”

  Five or six girls come in but don’t sit at our table. The last one makes all of us stop and stare. It’s Elizabeth, the pretty one. She doesn’t even seem to notice the whole room looking at her, but I’m sure she’s used to stunning a room with her beauty. I’m glad the boys aren’t here. I wouldn’t get to talk to a single one with her in the room. She graciously accepts a bottle of water and sits at the end of the table where Marisol and the other girl are forming a little Denver group.

  A girl named Trinity comes and sits at our table, and Agnes joins as well, sitting beside me on the other side. I see the girl named Marcia come in and hope that she sits at our table since I wouldn’t mind chatting with her, but she sits more towards the middle of our table with a few other girls. Too far away to hold a conversation with.

  As more and more girls come in, most of us are gathering in clumps but with different people from different townships in each clump. I’m trying to keep up and quiz myself as each girl comes in on who they are and where they come from, but I finally give up and just drink my tea and listen to the girls around me. I have determined that Attie is a genuine sweetheart, Cadence is very shy, and Renae seems to be a bit of a chameleon just agreeing with whatever Attie says. Before I know it, we are all accounted for and present.

  “Good morning,” Elle begins as she gets our attention standing at the front of the room. “I have met you each individually as you came in last night and early this morning. Welcome to Mile High, where you will be staying the duration of the Culling. We will get to the food in just a moment as I’m sure some of you are famished. Immediately following breakfast, you are welcome to rest as the first part of your second round of testing begins this evening at 1700 hours, or 5 pm. We know some of you have been traveling through the night and want to give you an equal opportunity to be rested. Lunch will be served to you in your rooms whenever you are ready. Just let your guard know. You are not expected anywhere before 5 pm, at which point, your guards will deliver you where you need to go.