The Culling: Book 1 (The Culling Series)

by Tricia Wentworth

  “As bad as Trident was here, it was worse overseas. They tried the virus on the country of South Korea as a trial run of sorts. There was no looking back at that point as the virus seemed to explode. The world would never be the same from the moment Trident touched that river in South Korea.

  He pauses to smile while switching gears. “Now, let’s do a little testing of your knowledge on the virus. Who can tell me the first United States city where Trident showed her big ugly face?”

  Many hands raise and he points to one girl who says, “New York City.”

  “Correct. It was a tragedy for it to hit our biggest city and made it all the more devastating though it really wouldn’t have mattered in the long run. Washington D.C. wasn’t far behind. This brings me to my next question. How long after the first cases of Trident was it before the entire communications and government shut down?”

  More hands raise and another girl says, “Two weeks.”

  I quit raising my hand as it’s obvious he’s only asking questions he knows we already have the answers to. None of us are outshining the others with our answers because we all know these answers.

  “Correct again. It took a measly 14 days for the virus to completely destroy a prosperous and well-working country. 14 days to break through all the plans we had in place in case if something like this ever happened. That isn’t to say everyone was dead in 14 days, some were hiding, others trying to help others, and others fleeing. But in a mere 14 days there were no means to communicate to the people to organize any sort of protocol. There was no television. No phone lines. No cell phones. No radio. And while what used to be the east coast was dying off, people were moving to the west coast. Then Trident hit a city on the west coast. Can anyone name that city?” he asks.

  More hands raise.

  “San Francisco,” Marisol answers when pointed to.

  “Very good. And this is roughly how she spread,” he nods to the screen and shows us a map of what used to be the United States. He hits a button and red dots start to pop up and spread until they eventually cover the entire map. I can’t imagine living through that and I’m glad I didn’t have to. Few survived, and the few that did had to live with some pretty serious survivor’s guilt.

  “And a tidbit of information that you may not already know is although the exposure of Trident in New York was as far as we have ever been able to investigate an accident, the San Francisco exposure was not,” he adds.

  We are all silent for a moment in confusion but he keeps going. I’m sure he did it to make sure we were all paying attention.

  “How was Trident spread from person to person?”

  Before we can raise our hands, he points to October who answers intelligently, “They initially dropped it in a water source of a South Korean river, and then eventually it mutated and spread airborne from the initial cases. The idiots also used a river as a water source, which greatly increased the death toll on their so-called trial. Instead of their test plot being a village, it was eventually all of South Korea. Then it spread to their own country since they share a border with the country they tested on. And then it took the world by storm. ”

  “I agree. They were idiots. Very smart idiots,” he responds with a smile. “They were smart enough to have in their possession a viral strain with two different vehicles for spreading; I just think they didn’t know the magnitude of the strength of the virus they were dealing with. Nor did they understand the magnitude of contaminating the water source they used. The virus mutated and was so highly concentrated that it came back to bite them.

  “In their contained trial runs on mice, the scientists managed to manipulate the life of the strain so the water was only contaminated for a short amount of time. By the time they took the virus to South Korea, it was mutating again, growing stronger and stronger and thus staying in the water source longer. This is why, to this day, we purify every drop of water we come in contact with from the water in your shower to the water used to grow the food you eat. Although Trident spread more so as an airborne virus, the water contamination was where it all began.”

  I look at Marcia and smile. The first day of classes isn’t the time or place to start a ruckus, but what she has been working on is so revolutionary and unbelievable that it will help our country immensely. If one of us could win for contributions to the country, it should be her. I water plants. She waters the country. Or she could, if they would let her. But I do get why everyone is still so squeamish about water. Something in the water changed the world forever. And we won’t and can’t ever forget that.

  “Though initially created for a good reason, the result was a virus so ugly it could spread using two different avenues, which is kind of magnificent from a scientific perspective. But, in their haste to prove themselves and become a world power, North Korea destroyed everything in using this creation too soon. We have letters and even videos of the scientists they held as prisoners warning everyone of what was about to happen. But because of greed and politics, they didn’t listen.”

  He stops to shake his head sadly then adds, “By the time the rest of the world knew what was going on in North Korea with the scientists and the weapon they had, it was far too late. Even worse, South Korea had sold the scientist who created Trident to North Korea for peace and a unification of Korea once again. But North Korea turned on them and disagreed with their opinions on how to use the weapon, so they used it on them first. Their brutality was only outmatched by Trident herself. One creation, originally intended for good, altered the history of the world forever when it fell into the wrong hands.”

  “Now, why is Trident called Trident?” Zax continues with the questions. I get distracted by how often he touches his mustache. It’s a very nice mustache though. Ashton tried to grow a mustache once, but he just ended up looking like he got into a fight with tweezers.

  He points to Attie who properly responds to the question, “Trident attacked her victims in three phases, Sir.”

  “And what were those phases, my dear?” he asks, falling for her charm immediately.

  “The first was blindness, the second was the loss of arm and leg functioning essentially paralyzing them, and the third was, of course, multi organ failure leading to death,” she answers matter-of-factly.

  “Very good. This is possibly the worst part of Trident. It wasn’t enough she killed almost all of us. It wasn’t enough she took the whole world by storm, but death by Trident had to be slow. You knew it was coming and you knew there was nothing you could do about it.

  “First came the loss of sight. At that point, you knew Trident had her hooks in you. There was no cure. There never would be. You knew you were going to die. But, you had to wait a few days before you would become paralyzed. Then a few more days before your organs would shut down one by one and you would actually die. This is why some convinced their loved ones to give them a more peaceful means of dying.

  “What would you do, if one of your loved ones had it? Would you help them die peacefully or at least more quickly? Or would you make them as comfortable as they could be while you watched them become more and more less human as Trident took her time taking over their bodily functions one by one? What if it was a child? Killing a child is abhorrent. Watching one suffer in that manner is too. And if you were by yourself, you were just screwed once you got to the second phase, lying there hungry, thirsty, blind, and unable to move, sitting in your own feces just waiting for death to overtake you.”

  He pauses but no one says anything. He’s doing a very good job of painting the picture of how ugly and devastating Trident was. I feel a shiver run up my spine. Thank God Trident is gone for good.

  “I think that is enough about death for today, my dears. The interesting part for you ladies will be that you get to learn a bit more about the topic than the general public knows. We will look at some case studies, the clean-up, look at the Bunkers and the transition to the townships, and of course, we will discuss why all of us are still here if Trident was
unstoppable. Have a good, and hopefully less depressing day, and I will see you tomorrow.” He smiles at us as he dismisses us, but none of us really feel like smiling back given the information we just went through and the vivid picture he painted for us.

  We stand up whispering to one another and start to file out the door for lunch. We have been through almost four straight hours of class time at this point. The first session in the morning was on past Cullings and we basically went through the first Culling list of male names, how it was determined and formed, how the tests were made, and all of that nonsense.

  We did learn in past Cullings upon making it to the final 16, or final eight couples, many boys and girls paired up with the person of opposite sex they liked the most, or who they most wanted by their side, making the country vote for a couple instead of a person. It gave them an edge to gain votes from their counterparts. All of the Cullings since have worked in the same manner. Ours more than likely will too, though there are no official rules decreeing it.

  I’m not sure I like that. I think it should be the best man and the best woman, no feelings attached. But, as we all already know, in all four previous instances, the President and the Madam President were traditionally married. It started off that way as a means to promote families and thus population growth. Now, it just seems like tradition so no one questions it.

  As if this process wasn’t enough to deal with on its own, now we have to worry about that? Great. Let’s go ahead and add hormones to the already insurmountable task of running a country in this day and age. I kind of just assumed if you got the madam presidency that you were going to have an arranged marriage of sorts. I didn’t realize we had any choice in the matter, and although we still sort of don’t, there is just more pressure added to the mix. I feel like I have enough on my plate in even thinking about running a nation, that I have no idea what it would be like to find someone I actually want to spend the rest of my life with, within this process. And if by chance I do find someone, will they even be good for the job? Or reciprocate my feelings? It all just seems so farfetched. And too fast. How long will I even know this person before marrying them?

  We head for lunch and grab our warm plates of manicotti. I find I’m sitting by Agnes, Marcia, Attie, Renae, and Cadence. Trinity hasn’t been back to sit with us since the first day and none of us seem to mind. Vanessa comes and goes as she pleases; she’s just a free spirit type of girl. Renae, Ms. Size-zero-and-dang-proud-of-it, is commenting on how much weight she is going to gain by the end of the Culling because of all the pasta they are feeding us. I can tell Marcia is about to bluntly tell her to shut up. I smile. We may not all get along swimmingly all the time, but I do like the bunch of girls I sit by.

  “I feel like the Trident class was more interesting than the Culling class,” Attie offers up to get Renae off the topic of herself, which is a topic she likes to approach often.

  “Me too. Although it was a bit graphic,” Cadence adds as we all nod our heads in agreement. She is becoming more and more talkative since joining our bunch. I like her intelligent input. She is the polar opposite of Renae and helps balance us out.

  “I feel like some of us may have issues with the etiquette class, myself included,” I smile and look playfully but purposefully at Marcia.

  “Just what is that supposed to mean, girl?” She pretends to be upset and look surprised.

  “It means we all know you aren’t very…ahhh…filtered?” Cadence chips in, resulting in the rest of us giggling.

  Between giggles Attie says, “That’s putting it mildly. And this is coming from the quiet one of the bunch.”

  “Yeah, yeah!” Marcia says, pretending to be mad.

  “Hey, I would much rather put up with your blunt comments than Marisol’s whispers and glares,” Renae offers.

  This gets Attie going. “This is the first day of classes! I mean, come on. Why does she have to be so mean? Did you see her chastise that girl for crying so hard during Trident class? And the constant whispers and rude stares? I’m going to have to talk to her. Kill her with kindness and see how that works. Maybe she’s just misunderstood. Maybe she has a reason she’s so mean. I don’t get it.”

  Attie is the softie of the bunch. Granted, she’s a nurse, but she also didn’t handle the pictures well this morning. I’m sure it was hard for her to see so many people hurting and know there was no way to help them. So in other words, she’s the total opposite as Marisol. Kind. Compassionate. Nice.

  “You go, girl, but I won’t be joining you. That girl has somethin’ stuck up her butt!” Marcia says honestly and we all laugh again.

  We finish our lunch, grab a cookie, and head to our rooms to freshen up. As Jamie drops me off, I kick off my heels and dive face first into my bed of fluffiness. When I go home, I am so going to miss this bed. As I lift my head up off the comforter, I see the boys file on the nightstand.

  Since I have about fifteen minutes before I have to leave for etiquette class, I grab the folder and try to do the flashcard thing and memorize the boys’ names. An odd fact about them is that the majority of them are 21 or 20. There is only one under the age of 20 and he is 19. I’m a lot younger than all of the boys. They seem to be much easier to memorize than the girls as they have more distinct features, like muscles for example.

  I hope I make it to the halfway point to meet some of these boys. But, I need to be honest with myself, the boys I am most drawn to never return the feeling. I had all of one crush in Omaha and he never even noticed me, despite my doodling “Mrs. Reagan Cooper” a zillion times in my notebook at school. In fact, until the Culling list was announced, Tommy Cooper probably didn’t even know who I really was. One time I thought he waved to me in class and I waved back excitedly. Much to my dismay, I turned and found he was waving to the pretty girl behind me. That right there is just how my love life has gone so far: awkward. Very awkward. Like a turtle trying to hurdle a log. Slow and boring. Not a lot happening.

  As the time draws nearer, I put the boys’ folder away, try to fix the bun my naturally wavy hair is escaping from, and then straighten my pants suit. I open the door and have Jamie take me downstairs. I wish we could fast forward this week already. I want to know if I make the first cut. I will do my darnedest to make sure that I do, and make it past the second one too, so that my family can get promoted.

  ****

  “Rough night?” I ask the normally quiet Vanessa as we are sitting around eating breakfast the next morning.

  “No. I mean yes. I’m just used to working nights so this…” she waves her hand around for emphasis and smiles, “has me all messed up. I’m scared to death to sleep at all because I’m afraid my body will resort back to what it’s used to and then I will sleep through something. I could’ve used the day off yesterday to catch up on sleep.”

  None of us seem to care or take notice that yesterday was a Sunday, the one day we normally have off, but Vanessa seems to have a different perspective on all of this. It may be because she is from Denver, or it may just be the way she is.

  “I know how you feel about missing out on something; my mom always taught me that if you are on time for something, you are late,” I shrug and take a sip of my tea. “I’m terrified of being late.”

  Attie smiles and quotes our etiquette instructor from yesterday, “A lady is never too early or too late. A true lady knows when and how to make an entrance.” She uses a frilly hand motion as she ends it, making me laugh.

  We all survived yesterday, but our etiquette instructor seems to be the mean one of the bunch.

  “I swear if it were up to that old hag, we wouldn’t be able to vote. Does she even know she’s a woman too?” Marcia plops down and is up to her usual bluntness.

  “She told me I was too short in her ‘initial assessment’.” I use finger quotes for the term and then roll my eyes.

  “She told me I was too quiet and didn’t use enough makeup,” Cadence shakes her head in disgust.

  “She told me my body wa
s not proportional.” Agnes rolls her eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “And I am too talkative,” Attie chirps.

  “I am too vain,” Renae pouts.

  “She told me I was too independent and hard to predict.” Vanessa shrugs then whispers, “How would she know that after a two-hour class? I swear to you they are watching us.”

  We are all quiet and look around nervously until Marcia says, “Girl, I hope they are. Then she heard me call her an old hag. Maybe she should try telling her face to smile. That’s my initial assessment.”

  We go from nervous to laughing just like that and Agnes laughs so hard she cries. One thing about it, Marcia is just good for morale.

  We finish our breakfast and chitchat back and forth starting to know one another better. I don’t want to leave my new friends, and I don’t want them to leave either. And for some reason I keep looking around the room trying to find cameras. What Vanessa said validates something I was already wondering and suspecting. Are they watching us? Everything is a test, after all. I can’t shake the feeling that since I have walked into Mile High, my every move has been watched. Even when I’m alone, I don’t quite feel alone.

  As probably 15 girls have already left for Cullings class, I decide I’m ready too. I dismiss myself and walk more slowly than usual, looking around. Jamie picks up on it right away.

  “Ms. Scott, are you looking for something? Can I help you find something?” he asks.

  “Yes I’m looking for something, Jamie, but I’m not sure what, or where, or if I should even be telling you at all….or talking about it at all,” I stammer, realizing I must sound off my rocker. “I do trust you though,” I add as an afterthought.

  I keep looking for cameras at places they would have the best angles and Jamie must know exactly what I’m doing, for as we round a corner, he stops and grabs my wrist so tight I think it will fall off. At first, I’m scared he’s trying to purposefully harm me.