Kill School: Slice

by Karen Carr

  At the top of the stairs, before Sebastian can escape to his room, I step in front of him.

  “Take me with you next time. I have to see for myself. Before I go to training camp.”

  Sebastian grabs my shoulders with such ferocity, that my breath catches in my throat. “Without training, you will die. You think I want the blood of my sister on my hands. It’s bad enough that I almost lost Viv last night. They want to kill us, Aria. Healthy, well-fed kids like us are major targets.”

  “I’m not going out at night ever again,” Viviane says. She turns and walks to Sebastian’s room. “Come on, Sebastian. Let me clean you up.”

  My brother lowers his eyes and follows Viviane into his room without another glance. I want to tell him that I am a Regulator killer. That I have the token that could save the world. I don’t know which one to kill or how to do it. Kalstein Barstow, the creator of the algorithm must have had a reason to produce an amethyst token. He gave me my token. He must be trying to tell me something. Why kill a Regulator?

  Chapter Five

  Hours later, the smell of a roast and a knock on my door wakes me up. Mom enters my room. She wears an old pair of jeans and a polo shirt. Even though she’s not dressed in her work clothes, or her red suit, she still looks glamourous.

  “Your father told me.” I hear Mom’s breath catch in her throat. She is nervous.

  Mom sits on my bed and glances at the turquoise peeking out of the bracelet. A pang of guilt makes me want to tell the truth. Maybe she’d be able to help me through it. However, I cannot get out the words. In fact, I can’t get out any words.

  Mom’s eyes become glassy. “Let’s not talk about it now. Come down to dinner and see what your dad prepared for you.”

  Mom glances at my science book, still open to the page listing all of the tokens. Her eyes drift up to my terminal where the screen saver prevents her from seeing my kill list. I know she’s curious. I’ve seen her in Sebastian’s room whispering in his ear as he sits in front of his terminal. I watched them once with the screen open to map view. Mom was pointing out possible targets and discounting ones as well.

  How I wish I could have her help, but I fear I may have to do my termination on my own. I wouldn’t want to put her life in jeopardy.

  “I haven’t tried to login yet.” I lie. It’s not the first time I lied to my mother. However, the other times, homework, grades, stuff like that, don’t compare to this.

  Mom steps over to my terminal and touches the screen. I think of the names behind my flashing screen saver, all names Mom would instantly recognize. What will happen if she logs in? I jump off my bed, and power the terminal down. My token vibrates as the screen goes dim.

  Mom stares at me. “I wasn’t going to make you login, Aria. I am here to help. I’m a doctor.”

  “You’re a baby doctor,” I tease.

  Mom grins at me. “Yes, but I make house calls. I know this area and beyond far better than most adults, let alone teenagers.”

  Mom often shares stories of her adventures. Like the time she ended up two towns away and had to spend the night at someone’s house because of the storms. She is right. She knows the area and the people better than anyone does.

  “I’ll do it later. After dinner.” I glance at the screen one last time.

  My mother links an arm through mine with an amused look on her face.

  “What?” I comb my fingers through my hair. My locks aren’t naturally curly like hers, but the result of lying in bed is hair resembling tumbleweeds.

  “You look different.” She folds down my shirt collar. “More mature.”

  I press my shoulders back, making me slightly taller than her. “I do?”

  “How did you grow up so fast?” she asks.

  “I wish I could have stayed fifteen forever,” I say.

  “We all do,” she says.

  We share a quiet chuckle and continue down the stairs to the rest of the family. Classical music fills the air as we approach the dining area. Dad’s choice, not mine.

  Sebastian and Viviane sit at the table. I take my spot between my mom and Baby in her highchair. The round table makes us equal. There is no head or foot, only parts of a circle. We hold hands to thank the forest and the farms for our food and begin to eat.

  I tell them about my journey to the post office, including the old women behind the desks and glass window. My parents exchange stories about their sixteen birthdays, and how the same women were there. I finish telling them about the crazy man I met, whom they also know.

  “He’s always in the park, honey,” Mom says. “Don’t worry about him.”

  “But what about his words?” I ask. “He said the end of the world is near. Is that true?”

  “The end of the world is old news,” Mom says. “It happened centuries ago. We have a new world. This one isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Yea, but we may be,” Sebastian says. “The way the algorithm is producing turquoise tokens, we may all have to kill one another. We may never have families of our own.” Sebastian grabs Vanessa’s hand and squeezes it.

  Mom glares at Sebastian. Not at him, through him as if she’s contemplating his words. “Regulator Krish told me something odd today,” she says, her attention now on Dad. “He told me that if people were to stop procreating, then everyone could live forever.”

  “That’s true,” Dad says. “Thank goodness the Regulators cannot break the algorithm. Professor Barstow was a brilliant scientist.” Dad touches Baby on the head. She takes his finger and chews it. “Because we may not have Baby.”

  Regulator Krish’s words sit in my gut. I make a mental note to find out more about Regulator Krish. His days may be numbered. Just thinking about killing a Regulator has me chasing a carrot with my fork.

  “Are you alright, Aria?” Mom asks.

  I raise my eyebrows and take in a big whiff of the roast. It’s time to change the subject.

  “How was your day, Mom?”

  “You don’t want to hear about that.” Mom saws her meat rigorously. I want to hear about it. I can’t help but wonder if the blonde boy was at the debriefing.

  “What is Clarkhaven house like?” Viviane asks. “I hear it’s made of gold and the Regulators travel around in horse drawn chariots.”

  Mom laughs. “That’s not entirely wrong. They definitely live a more affluent lifestyle than we do. With age comes power and wealth and they are the oldest here. It is no fault of their own. Kalstein Barstow calculated their positions a long time ago, even before they were born.”

  “Will they ever die?” Viviane eyes go wide, as if she’s contemplating a life as a Regulator. A tender touch from Sebastian brings her back to reality.

  Many hundreds of years ago, scientists genetically modified our DNA creating super humans. Our organs regenerate when they get old. We heal ourselves, presumably an infinite number of times. We all know our immortality is the reason we receive our tokens.

  An underground coalition of scientists is supposedly trying to reverse the DNA modifications. Immortality reversed so that we don’t have to kill one another anymore. I wonder what the original scientists would have thought about the outcome of their experiments. We are no longer immortal, for we have to one another other to survive. I don’t agree with the system, but we can’t change it. Not even the Regulators can change it.

  Mom tilts her head. “The Regulators won’t ever die, Viviane.” Mom focuses on the yellow tulips in the middle of the table. A side of her mouth turns up in a smile. “Unless someone kills them,” she adds.

  I cover my bracelet and feel a heat rise up from my wrist through my arm, to my neck and face. I have to kill a Regulator. Mom doesn’t know my secret. I am positive. By the way she looks at Dad, she’s into her own dangerous fantasy. I decide to change the subject again.

  “The blonde boy. Was he at the debriefing?” I ask.

  “That poor family with the baby,” Mom says. “You should have seen them at the debriefing. Heartbroken. Especial
ly the girl. I delivered a perfect baby boy, so soft and warm.” Mom glances at Baby and pauses. Dad pats Mom’s hand. She looks wearily into his eyes. For the first time, I see bags under hers.

  “Blonde?” Dad turns quizzically to Mom. He doesn’t want her to reflect on the gruesome details of that night.

  “Yes, he was there.” Mom focuses back on me. “An articulate young man, but devious. I don’t trust him and neither should you. He’s already been through three tokens.”

  My mouth gapes open. If you kill someone with a token, you have to take his or her token to kill someone else. He has a turquoise. In the privacy of our rooms, my brother and I have ranted against the token system. It all seems so unfair, but there is little we can do about it.

  “I remember reading about him in the token death list.” Dad taps his spoon against his glass. “Good looking fellow, even with the blonde hair. What an unusual color. And his eyes. Light blue eyes that glared at me right through the Flatpad. Frightening.”

  Mom sneers. “He killed the Enroy boy.”

  “Jamus’s kid?” Dad asks.

  “Enroy’s a tool,” Sebastian says.

  “Sebastian, don’t talk about the dead that way,” Dad says.

  “Sorry Dad. He was a tool. Everyone knows it.” Sebastian pushes away from the table. “Burke’s not the only one who has killed more than once.”

  We all stare at him in silence. Even Viviane covers her mouth with her hands. I watch his every move, wondering if he’s going to dash out the door again.

  “Sebastian?” Dad and Mom ask at the same time.

  “It’s Aria’s birthday.” Sebastian moves closer to the table again. “Let’s not forget.” He clamps his mouth shut and folds his arms across his chest.

  I put a potato in my mouth and chew. I can’t taste it. My mind is elsewhere. It prevents me from having to speak. Sebastian has killed more than one person. I thought he still had his token, but he doesn’t. He has someone else’s token. Someone he killed.

  “When did it happen?” I ask.

  Sebastian lowers his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I think about all the nights he has been gone in the last year and a half. Maybe when was the wrong question. I should have asked how many. A chill crosses my neck and I reach for it instinctively, as if I can catch the cold air in my hands.

  “Sorry, honey.” Mom glances from Sebastian to Dad.

  Dad reaches over the table and grabs Sebastian’s wrist. “You are good. You are kind. Don’t think about the past. Think about the future.” He takes Viviane’s hand, places it on Sebastian’s and presses them together.

  Sebastian pulls out the chain around his neck and shoves his token in Dad’s face. “The future? Like the person I’m going to kill next?” He rises from the table. “Sorry, Aria. I can’t take this anymore.” He pulls Viviane up. “Let me get you home.”

  With a short goodbye, Viviane and Sebastian leave me with my parents.

  “This is a great meal, Dad.” I smile and put another potato in my mouth.

  Dad reaches behind him to the buffet where his violin rests. Mom grits her teeth. He catches her expression, and as if his violin is on fire, he pulls his hand away.

  Mom gets up from the table. “Wait. I have something for you.”

  She goes to the closet and brings out a big box wrapped in flowered paper. Dad moves my bowl and Mom places the box in front of me. It all seems so rushed. I feel like they’re trying to pull a magic trick on me. Now you see it, now you don’t. I half-expect Sebastian to appear in his chair again.

  I touch the ribbon, which reminds me of the other present I unwrapped earlier.

  “Open your present.” Mom taps on the box in frustration. Dad goes for his violin. A glare from Mom won’t stop him now.

  I take a deep breath and smile at my parents. No words can replace the empty feeling we all feel with Sebastian’s departure. I pull on the bow of my gift and slide my finger under the wrapping paper, trying to make the best of the worst day of my life.

  My eyes glow when I see what lays inside. I catch Mom’s grin as I pull out a leather vest she wore when she was my age, the one that hangs in the back of her closet for no one else to touch except her. I’ve tried it on many of time in her absence. When I was young, she’d leave me notes in the pockets because she knew what I did. The notes were always loving and dear.

  “Try it on.” Mom stands and helps me in it.

  The soft leather, worn from so many years of use, feels at once comforting. My hands glide into the pocket, as they did when I was young. There, I find a red pocketknife with a cross on it and a miniature flute.

  I turn to Dad. “A flute?”

  He blushes. “Something that kept me calm on my many nights alone when I was in camp. I hope you find the tone as soothing.”

  “I’m sure I will, Dad.” I blow into the flute. The noise comes out more like a high-pitched squeal than anything resembling music.

  “You’ll get used to it.” Dad looks embarrassed. “It takes practice.”

  His tone is so sad that I hug him. “It’ll be alright, Dad,” I say in his arms. “I’ll come home from camp safe.”

  “I’m not worried about that,” Dad says. “I’m worried you won’t be you anymore.” He glances at the door and I know he’s thinking of Sebastian. I am, too.

  “I’ll always be me, Dad.” I turn to my mom, take the pocketknife, and open a blade. “What’s this for, Mom?”

  “Survival,” she says. “Just in case. You should be able to conceal it in your uniform. Keep it with you at all times.”

  “I thought kids weren’t allowed to kill until after camp,” I say.

  “True,” Mom says. “The kids can’t but the counselors can—if they still have their tokens.”

  “This is about the blonde boy, isn’t it?” I ask. “He’s a counselor. You think he’d kill me?”

  “He’s killed others.” Mom fiddles with her knife. “Stay away from him…”

  Dad cuts Mom off. “Don’t start,” he says. “No one has ever been killed in Kill School.”

  “No one gets killed in Kill School?” I ask, emphasizing the slang used for Training Camp.

  “Um,” Dad says. He strums his fingers on the table in a rhythmic beat.

  Mom presses Dad’s hand into the table, so that he cannot strum any more. “Dad is right. You should be safe there.” She reaches for the pocketknife, with the same uncomfortable expression Dad had when I tried to play the flute.

  “You’re not taking this back.” I stuff the knife back in the pocket of the vest and clasp my parents’ hands. “I love your gifts. You have no idea how much they mean to me. I’ll take them with me and remember you every time I see them.”

  I want to tell my parents how much I love them, but can’t continue. I want to hide in my room and bawl my eyes out, but I can’t do that either. Instead, I sit back and listen to my dad play the violin, which my mom can no longer prevent him from grasping.

  Chapter Six

  I wake early in the morning too agitated and anxious to go back to sleep. The sun hasn’t risen, but I know it will soon. Four days have passed since my birthday. It is Monday morning and time to go to Training Camp. I sit at my terminal in the moments before dawn as I have done every day since receiving my token. I won’t have access to it in camp, so I want to find out as much as possible about the Regulators now.

  I have memorized all four of their names and faces. When I’m not at my terminal, I whisper them under my breath; reciting their statistics like poetry. Every detail is available to me. I catch my breath with the vast amount of information and wonder who else knows as much as I do.

  One women, three men. All live in houses around Clarkhaven House. I trace the map with my finger, memorizing the order of their houses. Entering Clarkhaven House is near impossible with its high walls and elevated height. The only way I can get in is to be a guest and I don’t foresee that happening any time in the future.

 
It will take me months to gather all the information I need, to make the decision to kill. My gut tells me to go after Regulator Krish because of his comments, but the Regulators may all be the same. I need to know more about them before I decide whom to kill.

  Two hours later, I stand at the door with my totecase at my side. I’ve packed light. Camp will furnish us with everything, including uniforms identifying our color. Turquoise for me, if I can pull off my ruse. How to kill a Regulator, 101. Somehow, I doubt they have that class.

  Sebastian meets me at the door with a hug and a pat on the head. His bruised eye has mostly healed and he has regained some of his humor. I will miss Sebastian the most.

  “Thanks for coming,” I say.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He grins. “Viv wanted to come too, but her parents won’t let her out of the house until that squirmy, little punk takes care of his termination.”

  “You know who he is?” I ask.

  “Not yet,” Sebastian says. “I’m keeping an eye on the list to see if I recognize him.”

  Every morning, the post office publishes a list of the terminated and terminators complete with photo biographies. My father reviews it daily on his Flatpad. He’s not a voyeur. He does it in case any of his students are on it, which has happened several times.

  Dad and Mom come down the stairs holding hands. Dad cradles Baby with his free arm.

  “Ready?” Mom asks.

  “Sorta,” I answer honestly.

  A quick glance in the hall mirror reveals my slicked back hair and mom’s brown leather vest. I am surprised at how tough I look. I am excited and nervous about being away from my parents for the very first time. I will be meeting kids from all over, not just our region. Our family doesn’t travel much and I’ve never been up north where training camp is located.