The Elect: Malevolent, a Dystopian Novel (4 page)

I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. People have been living in Middleton, enjoying all those wonderful luxuries while we’ve been working our fingers to the bone and freezing our asses off all these years? “Is it like before the Great Decimation? My mother told me about this thing called television,” I say, hiding my anger.

“Oh yes, of course we have television. The shows are filmed right in Middleton. I love watching television. And my little brother likes playing video games. He’s really good at them.”

“Video games?” I echo. I don’t know what video games are. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. And yet, I can’t disbelieve it. Her clothes haven’t been hand sewn, the fabric hand-woven. Even at a glance I can tell. It’s so smooth; I can’t even see the weave.

“It’s kind of like…interactive television,” Mattie explains. “There’s a story, with bad guys, usually, and you have to stop them.” She shrugs, as if video games are nothing special.

They’re a fucking miracle. Doesn’t she understand that?

“But what about the danger?” I ask, pointing out the obvious.

She throws her hand, completely dismissing the notion. “Danger?” Mattie laughs. “Our city’s power grid is completely safe. It hasn’t been attacked by the Amiga in a long time. No one has been electrocuted since the Great Decimation.”

Could it be true? “Really?”

“Sure. The Amiga protect us now. In exchange, we help them. What do you do for fun?” she asks casually. She’s just dropped the biggest bomb on me of my life, and to her it’s nothing. My life has just changed. It will never be the same. Out there, in Middleton, people live like they used to before the Great Decimation. Why hadn’t anyone told me this before today? Why?

I grumble, “I read books.”

She grimaces. “Books? What are those?”

I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t know what a book is, even if her world is full of wonderful gadgets and gizmos that constantly feed her pictures and music. I love books so much I know I would read anyway, even if I had television and video games. “Books are words…you know, printed on pieces of paper…bound together. Books?”

She nods. “Oh, those dusty old things. Books? That’s what they’re called? Yes, I have seen books. In antique shops. And, now that I think about it, my best friend’s father used to display some in his office. They were just for decoration, though. I’ve never bothered to look at one.” She scrunches her brows. “There’s stuff printed inside?”

“Lots of stuff. Wonderful stuff. Stories and information about anything you can think of. I can’t imagine not reading.”

“Reading? You have to
read
the books?” She wrinkles her nose. “Reading is so old-fashioned. They don’t even teach it in school anymore. Nobody in Middleton knows how to read.”

“Don’t teach reading?” I say, shocked. Is Middleton really so different from Riverview? Had they somehow found a way to quell Amiga’s attacks, making electricity safe to use again? Have they abandoned the simple things in life, like reading?

For the first time in my life I want to go to Middleton. I want to see this strange, wonderful, magical place. I want to watch television. I want to listen to music.

She explains, “Everything in Middleton talks to us. What would we need to read?”

“I…don’t know. What do you learn in school, then?” I ask.

“Important stuff,” she tells me. “Like how to make and maintain electronics and computers. How to clean them, repair them, that kind of thing.”

“I see.” Of course, I had no idea what she meant or what was involved in cleaning and repairing computers. We lived in total fear of even seeing a computer. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. To touch one…I couldn’t imagine. “Do you know why we were brought here?” I ask, hoping she knows more about the Elect than I do.

“Yes, to decide whether we’ll accept our invitation into the Elect.” She gives me a pitying look. “You didn’t know?”

Embarrassed, I shrug. “I’ve heard about the Elect, but I’d heard rumors that it isn’t real. And I didn’t know we did the choosing. I thought we were chosen.”

“Oh, it’s real, all right. And we have been chosen. But we still have the opportunity to decide whether we will stay with our families or join.”

My face burns. I feel so stupid for believing those silly rumors about kids being stolen away and sold into slavery, and forced to work the massive farms in the Midwest or Southern districts. The Elect is real. And I’ve been chosen. Me! That eases some of my worry, but at the same time now I’m even more confused. I have to decide whether I’ll accept this opportunity or not. If I accept, my family will benefit a great deal. They’ll get more money than I can even imagine.

But I’ll never see them again.

And Sam…I’ll never see Sam again either.

If I don’t accept, I can go home. I can continue with my plans. I can marry Sam.

But Mother and Father won’t get what they need, what they deserve, after sacrificing for the last sixteen years for me and my sister. They’ll eventually lose the farm to the bank or county, because of the taxes and mortgage payments they haven’t made regularly. “I’m glad those rumors were lies.”

“Yeah, me too! Since there haven’t been a lot of kids from Riverview chosen for the Elect, though, I can see where that rumor might have gotten started.”

“Do you have any idea why that is?” I ask, not expecting an answer. But it seems Mattie knows a lot about the Elect. Why not ask her?

She twists her mouth. “Hmmm. I don’t know. We’re all from Middleton,” she sweeps a hand behind her, indicating the other kids in the room. “We’re the best in our class. That much I can tell you.”

“Then why am I the only one from Riverview? I’m not the best. Not even close. My sister wasn’t selected. She’s much smarter than me.”

“I don’t know.” She glances around the room, as if she expects more kids to pop out of the shadows. “That is strange. Very strange. But I suppose you’ll find out eventually.”

The door rattles and all the kids back away from it, shuffling toward the far end of the room. Are they afraid of something? Should I be afraid? Normally I know what to do, how to react. But here I feel so out of place and confused. Nothing makes sense. Everything is strange. This room. The kids. The Elect.

The woman who brought me here walks in. A handful of kids follow her. Hoping to see someone I know, since I’m not the smartest senior in my school, I check each face.

They’re all strangers. Every single one of them. They aren’t from Riverview. But their clothes are similar to mine. White. Simple.

Curious eyes wander over me as the new kids file into the room. Behind me, the Middleton kids whisper to each other. I can’t make out what they’re saying. I don’t think they know the newcomers either.

The woman clears her throat and lifts her hands. “I know some of you have questions about where you are and why you’ve been brought here. You are here by invitation. You all possess some knowledge or skill that makes you valuable to the Human Republic. This is a time of evaluation, both on your part and ours. We will decide if you are capable of joining one of our agencies and you must decide which agency, if any, you would like to join. This is an important decision. I ask you not to make it lightly. You may never see your families again. And, depending upon which agency you choose, you may be injured. You may die. But if you choose well and successfully complete that agency’s training, all your lives, your families’ lives, and the lives of generations to come, will be better.”

So it was true. The Elect was not just a child’s tale. I have been chosen to become a part of it. Me. But could I leave my parents, my sister? Sam? Was I ready for something like this?

“You will make your choice tomorrow,” the woman says. “And then your training will begin.”

Tomorrow. I have one day to decide? Only one? The faces of Mother and Father flash through my mind. They need me. To help with the farm. Mother would never admit she needs me because she has always wanted me to feel free to make my own choices. But I have watched her slow down the past few years. She looks tired. Dark shadows hang under her eyes.

Father has been doing his best to keep things going, but I can tell that his age is taking its toll. My sister will be there to take up the reigns. I know Father can count on her. But can they do it without me? Am I abandoning them when they need me most?

Then again, will they have that chance if I don’t do this and they lose the farm?

And then there’s Sam. His dream.
Our
dream. Of a life together, raising a family.

How the hell will I choose?

The woman leads us to a different room, a cafeteria. Two adults stand at the far end of the room, a table full of small bags in front of them. The kids line up to get served. I watch them. As they wait, they chatter, as if they’ve been living this way their whole lives. It seems none of them are struggling with this choice. Are they all happy to be chosen, like Mattie? Will they eagerly step up and accept this opportunity, despite the sacrifices?

As I take my place in line, I try to imagine what it might be like to be a member of the Elect. My mind forms hazy pictures. It’s like I’m looking through a fog.

Exactly what will we be doing? The woman had warned us we might die. Will we be soldiers? If so, who, or what, will we be fighting?

I’ve heard stories about bands of terrorists attacking people in the larger cities. Is that who I will be fighting?

As my imagination takes flight, a thrill buzzes through me. As unsettling and confusing as this day has been, it’s also been more exciting than anything I’ve ever experienced. For as long as I can remember my life has been the same. Mother cooking and cleaning, sewing and tending the animals. Father planting or harvesting or driving wagons full of corn or wheat to the market to sell. I’ve never been farther from home than school. In fact, the last time I’d met so many new people was ten years ago, on my first day of school. And then all of those kids were a lot like me. Their parents might raise a different crop or animal, but they lived pretty much just like mine.

But not these kids. No. They’ve seen things I haven’t, been to places I didn’t even know exist, have tasted things I couldn’t.

Suddenly the world isn’t so small and quiet. It’s big and scary and full of new and wonderful things. As selfish as it is, I want to know what those things are. Will Mother and Father be okay? Will the money they’re paid be enough?

I get my food and sit next to Mattie. She points to the boy next to her. “This is Charlie.”

“Hi,” I say.

Charlie says nothing, just stands up and walks away.

“Wow,” I say. “Was it something I said?”

“No.” Mattie grimaces. “He’s just a jerk sometimes. You’re a hick.”

“Hick?” I repeat. I’ve never heard that term before.

“You live in the country,” she explains.

“Yes,” I tell her. “I do.” She says that like it’s something to be ashamed of. “So what?”

“That’s what I say too.” She waves at someone behind me. “Just forget about him.”

The tall girl who had been leering at me when I first arrived plunks down her bag on the table and sits next to Mattie. She leans over and whispers something in her ear. Mattie chuckles.

This sucks. I wish I could leave. And yet I know this is my chance to do something good. I can help my parents. I can make a difference. For them. Maybe even for all those sad, filthy kids in the Swamp.

If
I am strong.

If
I don’t let fear rule me.

I wonder what they are doing now. Are my parents grieving my disappearance? Or were they told where I am? Are they upset or proud? Mourning or celebrating? I wish I could ask them.

A few other kids join us at the table. Curious eyes study me. But no one speaks to me. I pick at my food. It’s nasty. The sandwich bread is stale and the meat is tasteless, and for the first time I appreciate how fresh and delicious our food was.

“Did you hear about Riverview’s governor?” the tall girl says to the group. My ears prick but I don’t look at her. “My father told me his son Jesse ran away from home because he beat him, that he didn’t join the Elect. The Amiga prosecutor is starting an inquiry.”

“Lies,” I whisper, even though I’ve heard the same rumor. I don’t like this bitch. She doesn’t know our governor or his son. She has no right to talk about them.

“Did you say something,
hick
?” the girl snaps.

“I said spreading rumors is stupid.” I shove my chair back and leave, dumping all my food in the trash. I hate this place. I hate the people. I don’t fit in. I probably won’t ever fit in. Why was I brought here?

As I race toward the exit, I feel all those eyes watching me, judging me. The skin on my nape sizzles. Prickles burn up my spine. I yank open the door and nearly slam into someone. I jerk my head up to look him in the face.

The air leaves my lungs.

He.

Is.

Gorgeous.

Like a fucking angel.

I have never seen a guy so good looking. Not even Sam.

His face is perfect, every single inch of it. His eyes are a dark blue, almost purple. His nose is straight and strong. His jaw is just square enough to look masculine without looking severe. And his lips--oh wow--his lips.

My mouth opens. No words come out. So I push past him. My shoulder brushes against his arm. He feels big and hard, immobile. My heart jumps. My blood simmers. No sooner am I out the door than I want to turn around and go back in that room.

I want to see that face again. I want to know what his voice sounds like. And I want to feel that rush of heat when his eyes meet mine.

I can’t believe this. What am I thinking? What’s wrong with me?

I never felt anything like this with Sam, and I love Sam. Correction, loved Sam. Past tense. With all my heart.

Instead of doing something really stupid, I do the right thing, the smart thing.

Going back in there would be stupid, for a couple of reasons. First, I’d had enough of those assholes for one night. And second, I am still in love. With Sam. And, until this moment, I’d never had an unfaithful thought.

Besides, I know that beautiful guy couldn’t feel for me what I felt for him just now. He is perfection, from the tip of his toes to the top of his head. Me, I’m dull. Plain. Average. Forgettable. In fact, he has probably already forgotten me.

I am so stupid.

I go back to the main room and find a stack of blankets and pillows heaped in the center of the floor. I take one of each, lie down in a corner, and close my eyes. If I can sleep, tomorrow will come faster. Then again, do I want tomorrow to come? Tomorrow I have to make a choice between the life I loved and this one. I’m not ready to make that decision yet.

Actually, I am ready. I know what I want.

I want to go home.

But is that the right choice? Is that the kind of person I want to be, a cowardly girl who runs away from opportunity? A girl who lets someone else take all the risks?

Or do I want to be a girl who stands up to her fears and makes a difference?

I know the answer. I just don’t like it.