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Authors: Karen Carr

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“Go, Demi,” I say. “I’ll meet you up top.”

“I’m going to get help,” Demi says. She scrambles up Shah,
and the remaining pyramid pile with the grace of a squirrel. Soon, there are
just a half a dozen of us left, too few to reach the ceiling.

“Now what smarty pants?” Erwin asks again, at the same time
he shoves me and I slip into the water. The water is hot and tastes like metal.

“I’m getting out of here,” I say.

The water is now up to our knees. I’m sure those kids
wouldn’t let us drown in here or be boiled alive. There must be another way
out.

“The metal bars,” Mateo says. “Some of them aren’t glowing.”
He shines the flashlight on the far wall of the cauldron. Sure enough, patches
of the metal rings are dull.

Shah wades over to the metal. “If they’re sturdy enough, we
can climb the walls.” He tugs on a metal ring, and then hangs on it. “Sturdy.”
He jumps down and ushers the rest of us over. “Come on. Quick.”

“Aisha, Priyanka, come on.”

Shah helps the two girls up the ladder. They have trouble
climbing the curve of the wall, but are soon climbing out to safety. I am left
with Erwin, one of his
cronies
, and Shah.

“Ladies first,” Shah says.

I wade over to the wall and grasp the metal rails. They are
slimy and hot in my hands. I grit my teeth and curse the kids who led us down
here as I slowly make my way up the semi-circle cave walls and to the tunnel.
When I reach the ceiling, I have to monkey-bar it over to the tunnel leading
out. My hands are so burned and my muscles so soar, that I don’t know if I can
make it.

“Hurry up, girlie,” Erwin says.

He’s right on my tail. I want to give up. To fall in the
water and start all over again. However, steam rises from the water and it’s
getting unbearably hot. We don’t have much more time. I manage to make it to
the tunnel and use my feet as braces against the wall. I rip off some fabric
from my already-torn nightshirt and wrap it around my palms. This helps, and I
am able to climb to the surface in minutes.

Strong arms pull me out of the last part of the chimney. It
takes me a minute to adjust to the bright and unnatural light. I realize we are
standing on the far corner of the campus between two buildings. Bright lights
shine on us from above. Several counselors and teachers surround us, including
a few I recognize—Mr. Wassillie and Vladimir Korchev. I scan the crowd for
Burke, but he is nowhere in sight. I am mad at him for letting us suffer.

Mr. Wassillie helps pull Erwin from the hole and then helps
Erwin’s goon. Shah comes out last without any help from anyone. Demi rushes to
his side.

“Well,” Mr. Wassillie says as he examines us. “This is not
a good thing.”

My hands are burning. I crouch down and stick them in the
snow. I swear that I can hear them sizzle as the snow melts around them. After
I cool my hands off, my teeth begin to chatter. I am freezing.

“You are all out past curfew,” Mr. Wassillie continues with
a look of disapproval as if this nighttime adventure was our idea.

“It’s not our fault,” Demi says. She presses into Shah’s
body for warmth.

Vladimir steps forward and turns Shah’s palms over.

“Look at them, Frank. These kids are hurt.” He gestures to
the hole. “They would not sneak down there for fun.”

I can see Shah’s blisters in the moonlight. I hold up my
hands for Mr. Wassillie to see as well. Several teachers and counselors whisper
together. Mr. Wassillie listens to them as if he can’t decide what to do on his
own.

“You are right, Vladimir,” Mr. Wassillie finally says.
“It’s Burke’s fault. He should have been watching these kids.”

I blamed Burke a few minutes ago but hearing Wassillie
blame him makes me mad.

“It wasn’t his fault either,” I say. “Why don’t you go find
the kids that did this to us?”

“Burke is on assignment,” a woman says. “He left with your
orders.”

Mr. Wassillie kicks the snow. “I wish he’d have told me.
All of you, back to your cabin, except for you four.” He points to Shah, Erwin
and his sidekick, and me.

 “Take them to the infirmary. They need to be better for
their inclination test tomorrow.”

“I’m fine, Sir,” Shah says. He glances at Demi. “I’d prefer
to go back to the cabin.”

“Fine,” Mr. Wassillie says. “You, three then.” He points to
Erwin, his sidekick, and me.

Going to the infirmary with Erwin doesn’t appeal to me. It
turns out Erwin is too scared and burned to give me any trouble. We walk across
the warm campus and into a building that I presume is the infirmary in silence.

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

This
morning is our inclination test. Inclination. Where our natural tendencies will
be evaluated to determine our preferred killing method. Will we kill with a
knife or a gun? Perhaps we will poison someone, or choke him or her to death
with our bare hands.

After last night, I have no desire to get out of bed. My
face still hurts from where the tree roots smacked me. My hands are raw and
wrapped in bandages from the burning pipes. The nurses have already come in to
tell me that I must get ready.

I hear the nurses talking to someone, telling them that
they can’t come in. I think the voice is Burke’s but when he pulls the curtain
aside I still don’t believe he stands before me. I feel betrayed by the fact
that he wasn’t with us last night. He should have protected us. By the look on
his face, especially when he sees my bandages, he feels awful.

“Where were you?” I ask. “We needed you last night.” I
sound like my mother scolding Sebastian. It feels wrong being mad at a complete
stranger, but it feels worse being alone for the first time. I miss my parents.
They’ve always been around to support me when I fall. Now I am left with
someone the same age as my brother.

He sits on the side of my bed and stares at me. I am
intensely aware that I only have a hospital gown on, and one that barely covers
my body. I pull the sheet up over my chest.

“Well?” I ask, embarrassed by his lack of verbal response
and by his attention.

He heaves a sigh and takes my bandaged hand without taking
his eyes from mine. I feel like prey, locked in his gaze, but refuse to look
away.

  “Am I going to have to answer for you? What? You had a
date? Helping another killer?” The words come out in a jumble.

“That’s not fair,” Burke says. He squeezes my hand so hard
that it hurts.

I pull my hand away without an apology from him. The way he
helped the girl on the mountain, the way he looked at me then, made me feel
like we were connected.

“I am not here to protect you,” Burke says slowly. “I am
only here to guide you.”

I feel hurt. Let down. If he’s not here to protect us, who
is? I turn my gaze out the window. “Why don’t you just go?” My tone comes out a
little pathetic. I want him to help me as he did the girl. I don’t want to do
this alone.

“You have your bunk mates to protect you. I heard they did
a good job.” I feel Burke’s warmth leave the bed as he stands up. “Sorry you
were hurt. The leaders will punish the others. Initiation rituals are
forbidden.”

“They’re going to be gone by Friday,” I say. “How can they
be punished?”

I don’t have to look at Burke to know that he has
stiffened.

“Then I will find them on the outside,” he says. “For I am
not your protector, but they still disobeyed camp rules. They need to
understand. We are not here to hurt one another.”

I cut him off with a glare. “We’re not? We are here to
learn how to kill. How is that not hurting one another? You helped that girl
kill a
newborn
. Her own
brother
.”

He gives me a disgusted look and walks out of the room. I
jump out of bed to follow him. It’s not his fault. I went too far. I have to
apologize. Except, I’m not racing down the halls in my hospital gown.

I look for my clothes; find underwear, a tracksuit, socks,
and shoes, all with turquoise touches. With a sink bath, I rapidly change into
them. 

Shortly after, a nurse comes in to take off my bandages.
Remarkably, my hands are almost as good as new.

“Genetics,” the nurse says. “Amazing genetics. Now get
dressed and meet the others in the courtyard.” She smiles at me and leaves the
room.

I walk toward my cabin mates at the center of campus. The
air is warm and the mood is jovial. It’s as if we became a team overnight.
Shared near death experiences will do that to you. I hope it is our last one.
Burke stands with the rest of the group huddled around him. He doesn’t greet me
as I approach, but Demi and Vanessa do.

“I’m so glad you weren’t hurt,” Demi says. Her thick dark
hair falls in a single braid down her back. A red scarf accents her turquoise
tracksuit. I think she’s even wearing makeup.

“We were worried about you,” Vanessa says. “Let me see.”
She holds my hands and wrinkles her button nose as she examines every crevice
and red mark.

I wiggle my fingers. “Good as new.”

 “Oh thank goodness.” Vanessa wraps her arms around my
waist and hugs me. The warmth of her gesture makes up for Burke’s frostiness.

Burke stands on a bench to get our attention. He’s wearing
shorts.
In this weather. His legs are muscular and strong. A runner’s legs. A scar runs
from his knee down his shin.

“Inclination test time,” Burke says. “Remember, Inclination
tests aren’t tests of your ability, they are tests of your desire.”

“What are we going to do, screw each other?” Erwin asks.
“Boys against girls? I desire her.” Erwin points to Demi.

“Screw you, Erwin,” Shah says. He reaches over two other
people to slap Erwin in the back of the head.

Burke ignores both Shah and Erwin and continues talking.

“First, we’re going to see how healthy you are. Then, we’ll
see if you have any particular skills. Finally, the scientists will shrink your
brain to find out all of your dark secrets. After that, maybe we’ll give you
lunch. Time to go for a run.”

Without warning, Burke hurdles over the back of the bench
and takes off running.

Twenty kids suddenly rush after Burke. Some try to hurdle
the bench, which is a big mistake. Others go around it. We all dodge trees and
other campers to keep up his pace.

This is what it is like, to run with a pack. We have no
form. We shove and push one another to get to the front. A girl falls into a
boy and knocks him down. When the boy stands, Aisha crashes into him. The unity
we felt last night becomes an awkward tangle of limbs as we try to keep up with
Burke.

Burke takes us to the far side of campus between two
buildings. We emerge on the other side in the frigid cold and jogging toward a
forest. I am used to running. My parents always encouraged it. Track, long
distance, and sprinting awards line my shelf at home.

I sprint around the other kids and catch up to Burke.

“You’re pretty good,” Burke says as we duck under a tree
branch.

I don’t answer him, because unlike Burke who is not even
breathing hard, I am gasping for air. 

“Keep it up, we’re almost there.”

Burke takes us across a wooden plank placed over a stream
and stops in the middle of a grassy field surrounded by pine. I am one of a
handful of kids that has kept up with Burke. We wait a few minutes for the
others to arrive, which gives me a chance to examine my surroundings.

Four teachers stand in sections of the field. One teacher
stands behind a long white clothed table, the other in front of a pyramid of
wood. The third teacher stands near a clearing with targets in the distance,
and the fourth is all on his own.

By the time all twenty join us, I have caught my breath.

“We’re going to break into teams of four,” Burke says.

Several kids start forming groups of their own. Burke stops
them.

“No, I get to select.”

Burke groups us together into teams of four. He groups me
with Aisha, Mateo, and another kid whose name I don’t remember. When all of the
groups have formed, Burke blows a whistle to get us to stop talking. He points
to the different teachers.

“Force. Fire. Slice. Stealth. Grace.” He smiles at the last
teacher, Vladimir Korchev.

“What, no archery?” A boy asks Burke.

“Just for you, we’ll haul out the bows and arrows.” Before
the boy says thanks, Burke adds, “Not. You really want to kill someone with a
bow and arrow? Pure torture. We are not here to teach painful ways to kill.”

The boy lowers his head. “Sorry,” he murmurs.

Burke sends my group to
force
first, with
instructions that we rotate on the sound of a whistle. The four of us walk over
to the teacher, a small yet muscular man with no shirt on, even in this cold.
What is up with people in this camp wearing no clothes? Looking at him makes me
freeze.

“My name is Yip Chan,” the man says. “Today I will teach
you nothing. You show me what you got. Tomorrow I will teach you everything if
you make it into my class. I see you do not know much by the way you stand in
front of me.” He approaches us, and like a whirlwind, topples us all to the
ground. “See what I mean?”

“Names,” Yip asks. We all say our names together. He looks
to the sky. “What am I going to do with these four? Names, one at a time,
starting with you.” He points to Aisha.

“Aisha Khan,” Aisha says.

“I don’t care about your last name,” Yip says. “Aisha is
good. Next.”

“Mateo,” Mateo says.

“Mal,” the other boy says.

“Aria,” I say.

“Great news,” Yip says. “Aisha. Mateo. Mal. Aria. You know
each other?”

We look at one another with questioning faces.

“Get to know each other today,” Yip says. “Mateo. Aria.
Now. Up front.” He points to a grassy patch in front of him.

Mateo and I stand across from each other wondering what to
do. My hands are still sore from the burning metal and I am exhausted. It’s bad
enough that I didn’t sleep in my own bed last night. Spending the night in a
stinky-hot caldron and then the infirmary has me on tilt.

Mateo’s dark hair hangs in his eyes. Not much of an
opponent, one who can’t even see me. He crouches down and then jumps to his
feet, no closer to me. I twist my hips and kick toward him, but don’t even come
close to contact.

“Hit, go.” Yip claps his hands. “You two are so bad.” He
comes up behind me and pushes me toward Mateo.

I take a little jog-step and then punch him in the face. My
fist barely touches his cheek. The truth is, I can’t get enough adrenaline
going to want to hit someone on queue—especially someone I like. Mateo lunges
at me as if I were a turtle. I move to the side and he ends up on the ground.
This goes on for a few more minutes. Mateo and I both try half-heartedly to
take each other down and neither one of us succeeds.

“Stop,” Yip says. “You two no good for the combat.” Yip
waves us away. “Next two. Mal. Aisha. Show me something better.”

Mateo and I watch Mal and Aisha. He whispers an apology to
me, but I shrug it off.

To my surprise, Aisha whacks Mal in the cheek, sending him
to the ground on the first try. Mal grabs Aisha’s ankles in a furious rage and
pulls her to the ground. She kicks him in the head and he punches her in the
stomach.

“Stop them,” I say to Yip. “They’re hurting each other.”

“You’re right,” Yip says. “They’re good. Time to go.” With
a few swift movements, Yip separates Aisha and Mal. They both look like they
want to attack each other again, but before they have time, the whistle blows.

“Next up, go now,” Yip says. “Fire.”

The four of us walk over to fire, which turns out to be a
shooting range. Aisha and Mal keep far away from each other. It is clear that I
have no desire to hit another human being. I can’t imagine choking someone to
death, so I am glad to have failed that challenge.

“That was stupid,” Aisha mumbles.

“No kidding,” I say. “What can they tell in ten minutes?”

“I have never been in a fight with a boy before,” Aisha
says, rubbing her hands. “I think I broke my finger.”

“You did pretty well,” I say. “I sucked.”

“You weren’t into it,” Aisha says. She’s right.

“Neither was I,” Mateo says. “I really didn’t want to hurt
you, Aria.”

“Likewise, Mateo,” I say. “You don’t have to apologize
again.”

 

The one
armed hunter greets us at the shooting range. Her short hair is greased back
and a circular scar resembling a bullseye on her cheek. She wears a prosthetic
limb where her arm should be, using it to give me a rifle. She moves on to the
next person without asking my name, telling me hers, or even acknowledging my
existence.

The weapon feels heavy in my hands. I don’t think I can
raise my sore arms to aim the gun, let alone pull the trigger. I can’t imagine
hurting anyone with this thing and wish I could just give up.  

“I don’t like names,” she says. “You can call me the
Hunter. Line up.”

Mateo steps in front of the Hunter. “I’ll go first.” He
holds the rifle to his shoulder and looks through the sight. “It’s a bit off to
the left.”

Mateo grins as the Hunter walks over to him and grabs the
rifle out of his hand.

“Can’t be,” the Hunter says. “I cleaned and loaded these
this morning.” She checks the sight and raises her eyebrows. A slow grin
crosses her face. “We’ll I’ll be… You are right.”

BOOK: Kill School: Slice
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