Kill School: Slice

by Karen Carr

Mom grabs her bag. “Don’t worry, honey. The first week of camp is boring. You’ll be with kids who know nothing about killing.”

  “Great,” I say. Looking tough and being tough are two completely different things.

  “Remember, we are riotous and merciful.” Sebastian places a hand on his heart and one on mine. It’s a ritual I’ve seen him do with his friends. He then touches his forehead to mine, a ritual of our own.

  “You’ll come back stronger than me,” he whispers.

  I raise my eyebrows to tell him I think he’s lost his mind. Me stronger than him?

  “Someone tossed a kid off the fountain bridge yesterday.” Dad speaks with feeling, although I think he is trying to be casual. “He didn’t have a chance. Cracked his head on a rock in the river.”

  “Dad.” I force a giggle so that he won’t feel embarrassed and touch his hand. “You don’t have to be so graphic.”

  Sebastian snorts. “You think that’s graphic, wait until you take camp’s version of biology.”

  I push Sebastian with my shoulder. “Don’t make me hurl.”

  “I dreamt about intestines for days after that. Watch out for Hammerschmidt. He’s a real Pwad.” Sebastian grins and pinches me in my ticklish spot.

  “Stop it.” I try to push his hands away, but in a few short seconds, he has me rolling with laughter.

  “We better get going or we are going to be late.” Mom crosses her arms and stares at me as if she’s determined to get us out the door whether we like it or not.

  “Sorry, Mom,” Sebastian and I say together, as we have many times before.

  She bites her lip and walks out the door ahead of us. She doesn’t want us to see her cry.

  Dad with Baby, Sebastian, and I follow her down the steps of our townhome filling the air with idle chatter. Everyone is a bit giddy, maybe overly so. Our family comradery helps me forget where I am going, much like the sunrise does.

  The sun casts bright yellow and orange rays down our street, steeping the large oak trees in a warm bath of light. The Monday morning sweepers hover in the air, suctioning up all the dirt and garbage from a weeks’ worth of living. A few microdrones buzz around. I expect they’ll follow us all the way to the station.

  Neighbors flow out of their townhomes and toward the MagLev or their PRTs on the way to school or work. Most of my neighbors know it’s my day. Some wave and smile, while others hang their heads to avoid eye contact. A few kids—classmates—shout out encouraging words.

  The train to camp is at the end of the MagLev line, so we walk the few blocks to the station. Dad and Sebastian walk by my sides while Mom leads the way. I watch her black heels click on the sidewalk. The light blue suit she wears is one of my favorites. She greets the neighbors like a politician, with brief comments and short waves. Always pleasant. Always firm.

  I wish we lived in a different era. Maybe the one where jet planes flew in the sky or where people still died of natural causes. Where kids still goofed around on the internet, instead of investigating whom they were going to kill on their terminal. Medieval Europe where castles were still made of stone. Prehistoric times where dinosaurs roamed the earth. Any era would be better than this one.

  We approach the elevated iron, steel, and glass structure of the MagLev station. The towering station, with pointed arches, ribbed vaults, and flying buttresses, intimidates me.

  A woman screams. I turn my head and see a gang of kids run toward us.

  Mom guides us to the glass lift as someone shouts, “Opals and pearls.” Those kids are supposed to be in school, but they are out on a hunt.

  Sebastian pushes us into the lift. “Hurry up. Mom and Dad are in danger.”

  Several more people squish into the lift before the door closes. The crowd pushes me against the glass. I have a perfect view of the city and the raging teenagers.

  “You kids are a menace,” a man growls. His elbow is in my ear.

  “It is not their fault,” Mom growls back.

  “You recognize any of them?” Sebastian asks me.

  I shake my head. Some of the kids wear scarfs colored pearl and others opal. I stare at a girl who has a woman by the neck. The woman clobbers her with a purse and runs away.

  “They’re not from around here,” Sebastian says. “It’s getting worse.”

  The same girl grabs another woman from behind. This time, I see the silver edge of a dagger in the girl’s hand.

  “Show mercy,” Sebastian whispers.

  I hide my head in his shoulder as the woman goes down on the ground. Sebastian holds my head to my chest as the others in the lift raise their voices in anger and anguish. I turn my head and catch another teen as he cracks an old man in the skull with a bat.

  Mercy, indeed. It’s all-out war down there.

  Finally, the elevator opens to the station and we pour out toward the gates. Mom leads the charge, with Dad carrying Baby right behind her. Sebastian and I jog to keep up, ignoring the stares and nasty comments of those around us. Hypocrites. They had to kill, too.

  Mom uses her family pass to get us through the gates and onto the Maglev track. People give us a wide birth, as they do with the other teens in the station. I can’t wait to be older, to have this all behind me. I hate the way people glare at me, as if I’m some kind of monster. I understand why some kids rebel with tattoos and blue hair, to give people a reason for their disgusted glares. I have nothing extreme to offer them. I am just an ordinary girl on my way to Kill School.

  After a few very uncomfortable minutes, a train glides into the station. Mom guides us safely into a private compartment and then dusts off her coat.

  “Sorry about that,” Mom says. “You shouldn’t have to see something like that before camp.”

  Dad sits next to Mom, who takes a crying Baby from his arms. Sebastian sits next to me, across from my parents. My stomach churns. I feel like barfing. The only thing stopping me is the scenery change as we leave the city.

  Soon, we all begin to enjoy the ride. Mom and Dad talk about updating my bedroom when I’m gone. They quiz Sebastian about Viviane and me about the lack of a crush. We pass through three more towns, a stretch of wilderness, and then another few towns before we arrive at the end of the line.

  Baby, cranky from having to wake up from her nap, cries softly in Mom’s arms. Mom whispers something in her ear and then blows. Baby giggles and soon is watching everything around her. Dad takes Baby from Mom and we leave our compartment. I am nervous about seeing the adults on the train, until I realize only families with kids going to Kill School are left.

  Dozens of kids gather around, some compare tokens, others stand by themselves. Parents hover over their young ones giving them last minute advice. The Vactrain to camp is on the far side of the station. Unlike the Maglev, which is primarily above ground, the Vactrain travels in an enclosed airless tube all the way to camp.

  The ride is supposed to be super-fast and secretive. The only people on the train at this time will be campers. No parents allowed. Other times, scientists travel back and forth on the train. Kalstein Barstow built a research facility as part of the camp. I have no idea what kind of research they do there, and I don’t want to find out. If it has anything to do with Kalstein Barstow, it’s most likely about death.

  My brother tells me the ride is fierce and fast, using gravity and the force of the vacuum. Some of the kids get so sick on the ride that they miss the first few days of class.

  Several moving sidewalks later, we reach the escalators down to the waiting Vactrain. I turn to my mom, suddenly frozen in panic.

  “Mom, I don’t want to go,” I say.

  She pulls me out of the river of families going down the escalator. For a moment, I lose sight of Sebastian, and Dad with Baby.

  “You have to. You’ll be sent to control if you don’t.” The sorrow in Mom’s eyes crushes me.

  Nobody ever comes back from control. “Maybe it’s better than killing someone.”

  Mom takes my face in her hands.
“A life for a life, Honey. We do this because we have to. Get through camp. They’ll teach you techniques to deal with days like this.”

  A whistle blows. We don’t have much time left. Dad appears by Mom’s side. The crowd jostles Baby, making her cry.

  “It’s too rough for Baby,” Dad says. “I’ll have to take her back upstairs.”

  “I’ll take her,” Sebastian says. He takes Baby from Dad’s arms. “Have a good trip,” he says to me. He then turns to our parents, and says, “I’ll meet you back at the MagLev.”

  Mom and Dad guide me down the escalators. I am sandwiched between them like precious cargo protected by their bodies. I wish I could cocoon between them forever. Halfway down the escalator, the sight of the train makes me gasp.

  The train gleams white against the black rock of the subterranean station. The platform trails off into a molded tunnel of white Corian that will take us around the lake and far north. It resembles a beautiful white bullet waiting to go down the shaft of a gun.

  At the bottom of the escalator, we wade through the crowd to the turnstiles where I will leave my parents behind. As we walk, I hear snippets of conversation and glance at the girls and boys having them. Their eyes trail over my body as well, looking for the ubiquitous token.

  Some of the kids wear their tokens prominently, some are nowhere in sight. Some of the kids recoil when they register my bracelet and the turquoise color. Yes, I can kill you. Others, when they see my color, react by showing me theirs. The same. Not really the same. I am living a big lie, the biggest one of my life.

  As my parents drag me along, I search for someone, anyone I know. The girl in my class who shares my birthday, the boy who is a friend of Viviane’s brother. I see no one and feel hopeless.

  “Are you alright, Aria?” Mom asks. “You are very quiet.”

  I search for the words. Everyone here seems so normal. They all will kill people found in everyday situations, mowing lawns, shopping for groceries, or like this morning, going to work. My kill targets live high on the hill in Clarkhaven house. They make plenty of public appearances, always surrounded by guards. Guards. Like they have any reason to be frightened.

  “What are the Regulators like?” I finally ask Mom.

  She tilts her head. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Her words stop me in my tracks. Dad trips and falls into me, pushing me into Mom. Mom catches Dad and almost drops her bag in the process.

  “What do you mean?” I ask once my parents have stabilized.

  Dad brushes his hair behind his ears. “They help guide you through the training process, and evaluate your progress.”

  “I’m going to meet the Regulators?” I shift my totecase to the other hand. “How come you didn’t tell me before?”

  “It’s of no consequence.” Dad takes my totecase. “They are only there briefly at the beginning of each week, and then for the games and commitment ceremony at the end.”

  Mom fixes my hair. “Make sure you keep your head low and don’t make eye contact with them. You don’t want to be on their radar.”

  We reach the silver turnstile. A guard stands on each side. Kids funnel through after saying goodbye to their parents. The crowd pushes us along in line, the squeaking turnstile calling me for my turn through its motion.

  I look down on the ground in case anyone catches the water welling in my eyes. Kids sniffle all around me. Everyone either has caught a cold or is feeling the same way I am.

  “No parents past this point,” the guard says.

  Two more kids go through the turnstile. Mom can’t let go of my shirt. I hold her hand. Dad hugs me from behind with a hand on Mom’s shoulder and whispers a goodbye.

  Suddenly a plump woman pushes me aside. Two boys and two girls follow her.

  “The quadruplets?” Mom’s wide eyes register surprise. “We were in the hospital together.” She taps my arm. “One of the best days of my life, when you were born.”

  “Why don’t I know them?” I watch the plump woman say goodbye to her children. “Where do they live?”

  The two girls are identical. One wears a short red dress, the other jeans, and a blouse. The two boys are not. I watch them interact. The kids are close. Their mom seems awkward, as if she doesn’t know whether to hug them or shake their hands.

  Mom watches the woman with a peculiar expression. The faraway look in her eyes tells me something doesn’t make sense to her. I decide to drop the subject when a guard ushers us along. I end up right behind one of the identical twins. The line pushes forward and away from my parents.

  “Mom. Dad.” Other parents step in between us. I am no longer in contact with my mother. I’m like a salmon swimming upstream.

  “Love you,” Mom and Dad call out at once. Heart hammering, I let the crowd push me forward.

  “Tissues,” the plump woman says to the quadruplets. She manages to stay with us during the crush of people. “I forgot to give you tissues.” She hands each of her children a small package of tissues. “Lily, Demi. Be good to your brother. Jack, be a good boy, and pick that up. Mathew. Be on your best behavior.”

  Jack reaches for his pack of tissues, which is near my boot. I pick it to save him the trouble.

  “Hi,” he says when our eyes make contact. “You all alone?”

  “Yea.” I smirk. “Single birth.”

  The boy, Jack, is tall and thin, but healthy with red cheeks and skin lighter than my mom’s but darker than my dad’s skin. The girls are slender as well, but not so tall. They both have wavy dark hair similar to mine, but straighter.

  One of the girls notices my bracelet and picks up my wrist to examine it.

  “We got the same colors.” She shows me her token. “I’m Demi, you should stick with me. It’ll be all right. Lily and Matthew have pearl and opal. Jack, there.” She points to the boy ahead of her, “he was lucky to pull emerald.”

  “Go on with you, then,” says the plump woman to Jack. “You’re holding up the line. No time to flirt with the pretty girls.”

  I blush and hand Jack the tissue.

  Demi grabs my hand and pulls me along with her. “The truth is, the Quad Squad has never been apart, and I’m a bit nervous to be on my own.”

  “The Quad Squad?” I ask.

  “That’s what we call ourselves.” Demi squeezes my arm. “We do everything together. It’s going to be strange and exciting to be apart.”

  “I’ve never been without my family,” I say.

  Demi touches my vest, the one my mom gave me for my birthday.

  “This is really beautiful,” she says. “So soft. Is it a real animal?”

  I shrug. “My mom gave it to me for my birthday. It may have been a cow. She said her mother gave it to her.”

  Demi feels the vest again.

  “See, you aren’t without your family,” she says. “You have a piece of your mother right here.”

  As we draw closer to the turnstile, I am glad that I have someone holding my hand. I am not alone, that we are all in this together. Everyone is leaving his or her parents, maybe most for the first time. Everyone is giddy, nervous, excited, and terrified, especially me with my amethyst token.

  Chapter Seven

  Demi, her sister, brothers, and I walk toward the turn style. As each kid reaches the turnstile, he or she touches the token to a reader on the side of it. When the light on the reader flashes green, the guard instructs the kid to walk through the revolving horizontal arms.

  The quads all go before me, each one cheering the other on as they pass through to the other side. When my turn comes, I glance one more time for my parents. I can’t see them above the heads of the others, even though I am tall for my age.

  “Token,” the guard says. His tone is cold.

  I hold my bracelet to the reader, scared that it may not flash green. I feel a slight shock when it reads my token. The light flashes green and I let out and audible sigh of relief. The guard snickers as he ushers me forward. I slide through the arms of th
e whirring turnstile to where the quads are waiting for me.

  “Move it,” another guard says. She has a heavy accent, one that is not familiar to me. She yanks me as if I am still not going fast enough.

  I gulp and trip. One of the quad girls, I can’t tell them apart, grabs my arm and steadies me. I catch the color of her token. Turquoise for Demi. Pearl for Lily.

  “You alright?” Demi asks.

  “Yea, I’m fine.”

  I take a moment to look at all the kids gathering in front of the train. There are six compartments down the long track. Some kids gather at each entrance, although the doors remain closed. Most of the other kids are wandering around aimlessly or frozen in place. No adults are in sight.

  Suddenly, a whistle blows, and all of the kids become animated.

  “Come on.” Demi grabs my elbow. “Let’s get to the front of the train. It’s the only place you can see anything.”

  Demi yanks me toward the far end of the platform. We begin to run as other kids get the same idea. The mass of kids all run toward an entrance to a compartment. Several dozen kids run after us toward the front of the train. I like being in the lead, with the wind in my hair and my mom’s vest flapping around me. I wonder if this is what she did, if she wore her vest to Kill School.

  All at once, a boy comes up next to me, and I tumble over his outstretched leg. The boy, a heavyset kid in black slacks, laughs at me on the ground. I hate him already. He flashes his bracelet—it’s the same color as mine, and leans in close to my face.

  “I’m going to kill you.” The boy makes a fist and shakes it in my face. His breath smells like onions mixed with dirt.

  “Get off of her,” Jack says. He puffs back his shoulders, but lurches when the boy stands with a closed fist.

  “You got your girlfriend with you?” The boy sneers and runs away.

  “You alright?” Jack asks as he helps me up.

  “Sure.” I dust myself off and pick up my totecase.

  We watch the boy trip another girl. He shakes his fist in her face. I am glad I am not the only one.

  “I know that boy,” Lily says. “I’ve heard of his family. I think his father was sent to control. His mother may have been sent there too. Poor boy. Maybe he should be your target, Demi.”