The Elite
The Elite: book 4 of the Remnants of Zone Four Chronicles
by N. G. Simsion and James Roth
©2016 N. G. Simsion
All rights reserved. The use of any or part of this publication, whether reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system without the prior consent of the publisher, is an infringement of copyright law and is forbidden.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real.
Edited by Chris White of C.P. White Media, Limited Company
http://www.cpwhitemedia.com/
Content Editing by Christian Jordan
Beta readers and proofreaders: Luke Randall, Jenna Lovell, Melanie Elkins, JoBeth Morrison, Amber Christensen, Lori Collins, Cami Hurst, Nancy Farnworth, Betsy Polish
Cover design by Veronica Brighton
Interior ebook design: Russell Elkins
Published by Inky’s Nest Publishing
1st edition
First printed in 2016 in the United States of America
Chapter 1
Zero stood motionless and watched a snake slither between his legs. It was brown, about four feet long, and roughly as big around as his wrist. He watched it carefully, resisting the urge to move until the snake had slid into a bush and was out of sight.
This area between the outer and inner wall of Gualan was swarming with snakes—something Lefty would have loved. Everything in this forest brought back memories of his best friend, which only caused his heart to ache more. He couldn’t shake the mental image of Lefty lying there face down in the dirt with a knife protruding from his back.
Lefty had always been his rock. Lefty had always been there to hold him up and keep him stable. And he had always been there to hide behind when things got uncomfortable. But Zero was alone now. Not only was his best friend gone, but he had no home—no place he could hide or take a break from the stresses of living in the old world.
Zero ducked beneath a low-hanging branch and pushed through some heavy brush. As he stepped through to the other side, he felt something beneath his right foot. For the briefest of moments he thought he had stepped on a tree root or perhaps a thick branch, but he felt it squirm under his shoe. He jerked his foot back. As he peered over the bush, he watched a large dusty-brown colored snake raise its head while the rest of its body pulled together and bunched up around it. This snake was easily seven feet long.
They stared at each other. The snake’s head drifted left and right as its forked tongue danced in front of it, tasting the air. It had gold-colored irises with black slits for pupils and as it stared Zero down, it was almost as if it was taunting him, daring Zero to come just a little bit closer.
As Zero remained frozen in place, his eyes locked onto those of the viper in front of him, he realized he felt no fear at all. Other than the hurt he still felt inside for losing his best friend, he felt nothing—especially not toward a creature like this. This creature could do nothing to hurt him. Sure, it could strike and inject its venom into Zero’s veins, but he was already beginning to resign himself to that fate anyway. The minute he set foot outside the confines of the safety of Quirigua and stepped out into the old world, he knew his days were numbered. And now that he was completely alone, those numbered days felt more like hours. He would never freely bare his arm to a snake, jungle cat, crocodile, or Remnant, but he wasn’t going to live out the rest of his time cowering either.
He stepped out from behind the bush, careful to remain out of what he considered striking distance, and moved past the snake. He kept part of his attention fixed on the snake, as it monitored his every move, while keeping the rest of his focus on where he was going.
He couldn’t see the sun through all the trees, but he knew it must be right about at the level of the horizon now. The small amounts of light illuminating the forest floor weren’t as bright as they were when he had jumped Gualan’s outer wall. And although he was feeling more confident than ever around the snakes, none of that would do him any good if he had to navigate his way through them in the darkness.
When he approached Gualan’s inner wall, he selected a tree that looked strong enough to support his weight. He still had no plan of how he was going to enter the city, how he might find Mud, or how they would break out once he did. He knew there was a strong possibility he could be perched in the tree for a long time as he contemplated what to do. He therefore looked for a tree with a nook that might be relatively comfortable for a long period of time.
Right as he selected an ideal tree, he noticed an orange-and-black ringed snake coiled at the base of it. He looked around. He snapped a long branch off from the trunk of a different tree, peeling all its peripheral twigs off until only a long fork-shaped stick remained. He reached the stick down and lifted the snake up by its middle, until it dangled a few feet off the ground with its head raised, as if it would strike the moment it was close enough to reach him. Zero jerked the stick to one side, flinging the snake 20 feet into the brush.
He dropped the stick and gingerly walked again toward his chosen tree, keeping his ears open and his eyes fixed on the forest floor.
He grabbed hold of a thick branch and pulled himself up into the tree. As he nestled into the crook of the tree about 15 feet off the ground, resting his back against the trunk, a sound began to boom through the air. It was music. The sound of speakers blasting heavy beats reminded him of the celebration days back at the school—such as the last day of the school year, when everyone celebrated the eighteen-year olds’ departure from the school grounds. They celebrated the first day of the rainy season in similar fashion, too, as well as the first day of the dry season. But what would Gualan be celebrating on a day like this? The solstice or equinox was nowhere near to today. Gualan wasn’t a school, was it?
The scene was confusing to Zero. Music blared loudly enough that it could probably be heard from a mile away, and yet there didn’t seem to be any party underway. Nobody was outside dancing like he and his friends did at school. In fact, most of the time nobody was outside at all. Every few minutes, he spotted someone emerging from one building, then disappearing into another. Sometimes they were plump in the middle, just like Mud. Sometimes they weren’t. Many of them seemed just as short as Mud. All of them donned wild-colored outfits and had brightly-colored hair.
Then he saw someone who looked very familiar to him. He didn’t know this man specifically, but he knew his type. Normal-colored hair, tall, broad shouldered, walking with an air of arrogance about him—this man was unmistakably one of the Elite. But he wasn’t wearing the purple robe the Elite typically wore. He wore blue jeans and a long-sleeved silky purple shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he didn’t bother to do up any of the buttons, leaving it open.
This Elite man leaned against one of the buildings, pulled something long and brown from his breast pocket, and placed it between his teeth. He produced a shiny silver butane lighter, sparked a flame with it, and lit the end of whatever this thing was protruding from his mouth. The end of it glowed orange as he sucked on it. He then blew out a large puff of smoke and watched it hover above his head.
The man remained alone for about ten minutes before another
Elite joined him, followed by another, then another. Over the course of about an hour, the population of those lounging around the city grounds increased. About half of those whom Zero could see were Elite. The rest were the small, colorful people of Gualan.
As the number of people increased, the party gradually came to life. People started to move to the music—slowly at first, then with more liveliness as the night went on.
Zero began to regret his decision to come here. He knew almost nothing about Mud or any of these people. And now that he was watching them, it became clear that they were very much enjoying themselves as they mingled with the Elite. He doubted he could ever enjoy an evening in their company, causing him to wonder if having Mud for a traveling companion would be just as miserable as having one of the Elite at his side.
“What was I thinking?” Zero mumbled to himself. “Why didn’t I just go back to Exile to break Root out of there? That would have made a lot more sense.”
He looked down at the ground beneath him, which was pitch black now that the sun was gone. He knew he had only two choices: Wait in this tree all night for the sun to rise again so that he could walk back through the snake forest, or enter the city and try to find a different way out. The choice seemed obvious at first. He would wait until morning and forget all about Mud—someone he didn’t really know anyway. But then he noticed a familiar face standing in the glow of one of the overhead lights. He looked just like all of the other Elites, except for one striking feature—his fiery red hair. He had seen this man only once, and that had only been for a few minutes, but his countenance would be forever burned into Zero’s memory.
This was Red.
The man who had stuck a knife into the back of his best friend.
Without thinking, without pausing to even consider the fact that he could step on a den of rattlesnakes in the dark, he dropped down from his branch and hurried to the inner city wall. In one smooth motion he lifted himself up, swung his legs over, and dropped onto the grass. His eyes were fixed on Red as he marched across the lawn.
Chapter 2
Zero walked in the shadows at first, being that all the lights were located near the center of the city and he was on its perimeter. As he walked across the lawn, however, the lights began to shine on him, and he realized how much he stood out in his plain white T-shirt. The people of Gualan were dressed in all the colors of the rainbow, while all of the Elites only wore different shades of purple. Zero’s shirt alone was enough to set off an alarm in the eyes of every person on the grounds.
He stripped himself of his shirt and hurried back to the city wall, where he dropped it over. He felt a little silly walking across the grass with a bare chest, until he saw someone burst out of one of the buildings with a bottle in one hand, singing along with the music, wearing nothing but a pair of blue boxer shorts. Since nobody around seemed think to this was out of the ordinary, he stopped worrying.
As he drew near one of the buildings, he noticed an Elite man lying on his back. A large bottle of amber-colored liquid lay on its side next to him, which had mostly spilled out onto the grass. The man appeared to be unconscious.
Zero looked around, then nudged him with his toe. When the man didn’t respond he kicked him a little harder, which also elicited no response. He knelt down and unbuttoned his silky purple shirt, rolled the man onto his stomach, then peeled the shirt off of him. Nobody seemed to notice or care as Zero stuck his arms through the sleeves and buttoned the shirt halfway up his chest.
He felt ridiculous dressed like this. He had never worn something silky before and, although it was completely dry, it felt almost slimy. Looking down at its hideous floral patterns, he wondered why anyone would ever choose to wear something as ugly and uncomfortable as this. But if it helped him blend in—if it helped him get close to Red—then a little discomfort was a small price to pay.
He walked amongst the people, keeping one eye on Red, trying his best to look like he belonged there. He danced when someone came up next to him because that’s what everyone else was doing. He laughed whenever someone tried to talk to him, because that seemed to be the norm, even if there was nothing funny about what was being said. He kept one eye on Red at all times, monitoring his every move. He didn’t want to approach him quite yet—not until the moment was right.
The time became right when Red sat alone at one of the tables. He held a small bottle of clear liquid in one hand which he chugged periodically, clenching his eyes and sucking air in through his teeth after every swallow.
“Hey! This is a party,” Zero yelled over the music. “Why are you sitting here all alone?”
Red shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I’m not in the mood for a good time. I thought this place might cheer me up after a long day, but it’s not working. Maybe I’ll just go home.”
Zero sat in the chair next to him. “What is it you’re drinking today?”
Red held up the bottle. He seemed to assume Zero would know what it was by sight, so Zero nodded as if he knew exactly what it was.
“Go get yourself a bottle,” Red said, pointing toward the double doors of the largest building. “I could use a drinking partner.”
“Don’t let anyone take my seat,” Zero said, then he walked in the direction Red had pointed. He pulled open the door, and a wall of sound hit him. It was even louder than what had been blaring outside. He could feel every bass note in his chest as it thumped. He looked around and saw a long table with all shapes, sizes, and colors of bottles. He walked along it, clueless as to which one he should choose, eventually selecting one that looked like the one lying next to the man he’d seen passed out on the grass. He held the bottle up to the light, decided it would do, and walked back outside.
He made a stop at another table, where he piled onto his plate a rib eye steak, potato wedges, and two bread rolls. At the end of that table he selected some eating utensils. He picked up a steak knife and turned it over in his hand, watching the colorful lights bounce off its reflective surface. He squeezed the handle. It was going to take all of the strength inside of him not to stick this blade into the center of Red’s chest while they sat together.
When he returned to the table, Red greeted him with a smile, pointing at the bottle. “Good choice. That stuff will mess you up really good.”
Zero twisted off the top. When Red tipped his clear bottle back for a swig, Zero poured a bit of his out onto the ground next to him. When Red lowered his bottle again, Zero squeezed his eyes shut and mimicked the way he would suck air in through his teeth. “Whoa! You weren’t kidding. This is strong stuff,” Zero said.
“You ever just had one of those days?” Red asked.
“Sure.”
“I mean, the kind of day where you just want to run away from it all?”
“You know it. Sometimes I get so sick of everyone telling me where to live. How to act.”
Red shook his head. “No. I don’t mean that. I just—sometimes I just hate the cockroaches so much.”
“Cockroaches? What do you mean?”
“The cockroaches. The regular people. You know—the people who aren’t the Elite. Sometimes I wish I could just squish them all. They’re ungrateful. Worthless.”
Zero began to boil inside. “What do you mean ungrateful? Did you ever give anything to one of them?”
“Did I give anything to one of them?” He slapped the palm of his hand onto the table. “What kind of question is that? Of course I did. We all do. We give them a safe place to live. We give them a roof over their heads. We give them all the food they could possibly eat. But still, they want more. We give them everything they could possibly want and they still try to bust out—go running off into the woods to explore, play, or whatever it is cockroaches do.”
“So, what is your job, anyway? What do you do?”
“Babysit cockroaches.” Red closed his eyes and took a big swig from his bottle. He sho
ok his head. “Ah! You know it’s good when it burns like that.”
Zero tipped a bit more of his own bottle into the grass. He exhaled loudly at the same moment Red did, then they laughed together.
“How do you do it?” Zero asked. “How do you put up with the cockroaches?”
“Oh. It’s not nearly as bad as I’m letting on. It’s really not. Besides, it’s not like I have to live with them permanently. I get to come home to normal people in the evenings, and I only have to be with them five days out of the week. It’s not really that bad. I just had a bad day today. That’s all.”
“But what made today so bad?” Zero already knew the answer. It had only been about 12 hours since he saw Red plunge his blade into Lefty’s back. But he wanted him to say it. Nothing Red could say or do would ever bring his friend back, but he wanted to hear it from his own mouth. He had to know if killing Lefty had been his own idea, or if it was ordered from someone higher up in the chain of command.
“Today I had to go on a—let’s say—a little treasure hunt. I usually spend my day hanging out being lazy in the guard’s lounge in Exile, but today I had to go trudging through the forest. Yesterday too, actually. We had to camp all night outside, like we were one of those little brown people living in the outside world or something. It just wore me out. I hated every minute of it.”
“That’s it? You’re grumpy because you had to sleep outside and it wore you out?”
“What? You like that sort of thing?” Red took another sip, then held the bottle out in front of him to admire the sight of it.
Zero stared at him. He realized he was gripping the steak knife tightly in his right hand. When he looked down at it, he decided he had better get started on his meal. He didn’t know how long this conversation might last, and his body was screaming at him to feed it.
“Why does it matter if one of your men runs away? Why don’t you just let them go?” Zero asked. “It’s not like they have somewhere safe to go, right? Wouldn’t they just be dead within a few days anyway?”
The Elite: a dystopian post-apocalyptic young adult novella series (Remnants of Zone Four Chronicles Book 4) Page 1