Kill School: Slice

by Karen Carr

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  Burke turns around. His muscles flex and relax with his movements.

  “Looks like you all have reviewed your schedules,” he says. “You have a great day and I’ll see you at lunch.”

  “I’m going to go shower,” I say.

  I grab my bag and head of to the showers behind the cabin. A dozen private stalls line the length of the cabin. I go inside and lock myself in one of them. The stall has a seat and a cubby away from the showerhead. I stash my towel and clean uniform there to turn on the water. The air is chill, but the water is warm.

  About half way through the shower, something lands on my shoulder and crawls down my spine. I swat my rear and come back with the longest, fattest, and hairiest centipede that I’ve ever seen in my palm. It must have dropped in from the rafters. It grosses me out, so I flick it over the door and rinse the mush off my hand.

  A few seconds later, several more centipedes drop in my hair. This time, I catch an arm by the wrist. Someone has been tossing them over the shower door. The arm slips away from me, leaving me to get a mass of bug parts out of my tangled hair. I curse the person who did this to me as I rinse the remains from my hair and down the drain.

  After I’m dressed and race to the front of the cabin, I see Erwin on the porch with a bucket of creepy crawling things. My heart pounds with anger as I approach him.

  “I knew it was you,” I say.

  I rip the bucket from his knees and dump the remaining bugs on top of his head, bucket, and all. I push past him, into the cabin and hear the clank of the bucket and wails. Serves him right.

  “What’s wrong?” Burke asks. He is still shirtless.

  A boy enters the cabin. “Erwin’s been hurt. She broke his nose.” He points at me.

  Crap.

  Burke makes his way down the narrow lane between the table and bunks, pushing the chairs as he approaches me. When he reaches me, he cocks his head and presses his hand on the back of my neck.

  “Out,” he says. “Let’s see what you did.”

  Burke forces me outside to where some of the kids have gathered around Erwin. Blood drips from his nose and down his chin. Several bugs cover his hair and his shoulders. He looks like a regular mess.

  “He did it to me first,” I say. My words come out sounding pathetic, like I am some kind of six year old.

  “What do you mean?” Burke asks.

  I explain to him how I caught someone dumping centipedes on me in the shower. While I talk, I see Mal cover his mouth. He’s snickering.

  “I didn’t do it,” Erwin wails. Someone hands him a wet towel and he wipes his face. “She broke my nose.”

  When Erwin wipes his face, I notice he is wearing a rope bracelet. His skin is more orange than the boy who dumped bugs on me.

  “Pathetic,” Mal says.

  I glare at Mal. It wasn’t Erwin. I made a mistake. Most of the kids are glaring at me now.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble.

  “Why don’t you all get out of here and go to class.” Burke shakes his head, mutters, and enters the cabin again.

  “You got some centipede in her hair,” Mal says. He sneers and turns his back on me.

  “Sore loser,” I say to Mal’s back. I see his shoulders tighten, but he doesn’t turn around. I’m mad at myself for letting him get a rise out of me. It makes me feel satisfied that I can get one out of him.

  I grimace and glance at the bucket. I’m doubly angry with him. I can’t clobber anyone else for the rest of the camp, or they’ll label me as a pathetic troublemaker.

  Mateo approaches. “Let’s go to biology,” he says. He reaches for my elbow.

  I’m grateful for his attention and walk past Erwin without glancing at him. The truth is I don’t want to see the blood. His nose probably isn’t broken, but I caused someone to bleed. It’s only my second day of camp and I am already hurting people.

  Vanessa, Mateo, and I tromp down the path toward campus. I didn’t bring my cloak because I knew we would be inside for most of the morning, so I am shivering and my hair is frozen by the time we reach campus.

  The warm air puts me in a better mood. Biology is back in the Kalstein Barstow Science Building. The three of us walk across campus, Vanessa and Mateo bantering lightly with each other.

  I notice a group of adults, one with a camera and a straw-haired woman with a microphone and a visitor’s pass around her neck. They are interviewing a tall man with a bunch of kids in different colored uniforms behind him. News shows like to keep up with things we do here, especially during the celebration games at the end of camp. I remind myself that Friday is graduating day for a quarter of the kids here today.

  “Do we get to go to the games?” Vanessa asks. She has her eye on a strong looking boy shorter than most.

  “He’s not your type,” Mateo says.

  “You mean I’m not his type?” Vanessa asks.

  Mateo puts his arm around Vanessa. “I’ll find you someone. Don’t worry. You’ll help me, won’t you Aria?”

  “Me?” I touch my hand to my cheek and widen my eyes. “I can’t even find someone for myself.”

  “Then, I’ll help both of you,” Mateo says.

  “No thanks,” I say. “I want to get through camp without any distractions. It is bad enough we have to learn how to kill. I don’t want to learn how to love on top of it.”

  We climb the steps and enter the science building just as a bell rings across campus. The classroom is on the second floor. We follow a dozen other kids up the steps and down the wide hall and enter the sterile smelling room.

  Instead of desks and chairs, five square blacktop counters runs the width of the classroom. Faucets protrude from the counter and into sinks below. Beakers and trays are laid out in sections, along with four sets of stools for each counter.

  “Grab those two,” Mateo says as he sits in the first free station. Vanessa and I sit on the stools, happy to be together.

  Two quads enter the class, Jack and Matthew. More kids come in that I recognize. Soon, the classroom is full except for the extra seat with us.

  The teacher enters the class from a door up front. His round stomach presses against a cart as he pushes it to the front of the class. A sheet covers a long lump on the cart.

  “Good morning class,” he says as he pushes. “I am Professor Hammerschmidt, your biology teacher for three short hours a week.”

  Professor Hammerschmidt stands in front of his cart and picks up a book that was resting on top of the sheet.

  “This is our carefully structured Regulator approved handbook. You only have twelve hours of instruction, so you better read it from cover to cover. We have a lot to learn, so let’s get right to work.”

  Professor Hammerschmidt whisks the sheet off the cart to reveal a cadaver.

  Some of the kids gasp, while others retch. I try not to do either. In biology at school, we dissected frogs and grasshoppers. I’ve seen people get killed and dead bodies lying on the ground. Most times, my parents have been with me and have ushered me past the corpse. This time, I am stuck in a room with it. I have a feeling I get to know that corpse inside and out.

  The door in the back of the classroom creaks open and all eyes turn in that direction. It seems as if none of us wants to look up front. Erwin stands in the doorway with a bandage over his nose.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Erwin says. “I was attacked.”

  Matthew and Jack snort and chuckle under their breath.

  “There’s one seat left,” Professor Hammerschmidt says. I cringe as he points in our direction.

  I don’t know what’s worse, having to sit next to Erwin or near a corpse. Apparently, he feels the same way, because when he sees me he stops in his tracks. He seems genuinely afraid of me this time. Part of me feels sorry for him, but then I remember what a bully he was to me on the Vactrain.

  “Sit down young man, or would you like to be the first to cut into Mr. Goodfellow here?” The professor poin
ts to the corpse on the cart.

  Erwin pulls the stool to the far corner of the counter and sits without glancing at any of us. I exchange looks with Vanessa and Mateo.

  Mateo mouths, “Be nice.”

  I shrug my shoulders and turn my attention to the corpse in front of the room. The biology professor goes on about how important it is to learn about internal organs, especially if we need to make them stop right away. We are vulnerable. More vulnerable than I thought.

  Professor Hammerschmidt points to the kidneys, the liver, the stomach, the neck, the heart, inside the mouth and ears. He tells us we are going to learn about each of these parts of the body. We will learn to respect them, to honor their function. We will learn their strengths and weaknesses. He talks about each organ as if it is his friend.

  Finally, after an hour of droning on about body parts, he instructs us to stand up.

  “Come up here in your table groups,” Professor Hammerschmidt says. “I want you to become familiar with him.”

  As I approach the corpse, the smell of formaldehyde is thick in the air. The corpse is a light-skinned man, average height, and build. Thankfully, a cloth covers his privates and his face. When I reach the corpse, the professor takes my hand and forces me to touch the chest, the inner thigh, the stomach, and the neck. The body feels cold. I wonder how he died.

  After class, Erwin and I get stuck together waiting for the rest of the kids to leave through the door. His eyes have dark patches under them. His nose is swollen.

  “I’m sorry,” I say to Erwin.

  He turns to me as if he’s shocked I’ve spoken, but doesn’t say anything.

  “I hate bugs,” I say. “I guess I was just more than a little freaked out.”

  He tilts his head a little. I’m ready for him to say something ugly. He frowns and looks down at the ground.

  “Centipedes, especially,” I continue. “They were all over my hair. I squished several with my bare feet.”

  A smile creeps up on Erwin’s lips.

  “Someone got you good. I wish it was me.” He pulls my hair and kicks me in my already-sore shin. “That is from me.” He sticks out his tongue and runs of down the hall.

  I am going to clobber that kid.

  My next class is grace, which makes me happy. I loved climbing up the pyramid of wood. I can’t wait to see what the next challenge is. I am motivated to do a good job.

  Grace meets at the lake. I am excited because I think we are going to go ice-skating. When I reach the lake, I am not happy to see Erwin and his friend Tane by the shore. Demi and Shah stand next to Priyanka. At least my friends outnumber my enemies. The rest of the kids are a mixture of different token colors from different cabins.

  Vladimir waves to me. He is wearing a furry hat and heavy gloves.

  “Welcome. Come over. We do something different today.”

  Several dozen wooden boards rest at the base of the lake. Each board is about three feet long, four inches thick, and six inches wide. The boards resemble a filled-in canoe, curved with a tip at the point and rear. Toward the front of each board is a T shaped bar about waist-high that looks as if you could hold onto it. They look like old-fashioned hoverboards without the hover capabilities. Next to the boards, dozens of L shaped sticks lie in the snow.

  Vladimir grabs the handle of one of the boards and brings it to us. There are two loops on the base, one to the rear and the other at a diagonal to the front.

  “We play a game called Pelota Purepecha. Easy,” Vladimir says.

  He jumps on the board and twists the handles. The board jets through the snow and into the air about a foot from the ground. It is an old-fashioned hoverboard.

  “You got to be kidding me,” Demi says with humor. “Doesn’t this school have enough money in the budget for new equipment?”

  I grew out of my hoverboard years ago, but still know how to use one. This class is going to be so much fun.

  Vladimir pulls up in front of us without using the handles and turns off the hoverboard.

  “What’s the handle for?” A kid asks.

  Hoverboards don’t usually have handles.

  “How you going to hold on while you’re swinging your stick?” Vladimir asks. “I show you that, too. Let’s get out on the ice. Who has ridden one of these before? The new, modern variety, of course.”

  Over half of the kids raise their hands, including Demi, Priyanka, and myself. Shah, embarrassed, keeps his hand to his side.

  “Don’t worry,” Demi says to Shah. “I’ll teach you. We’ll sneak out and practice at night.”

  “You kids who don’t know the game, watch the kids who do. It’s easy.”

  “Why does he keep saying that?” Shah whispers. “It’s easy. Is it?”

  Shah joins the kids who’ve never used a hoverboard on a long bench. He doesn’t look too happy about not being allowed to play. Vladimir explains the rules to Pelota Purepecha. I don’t remember all of them. It involves multiple balls, a flaming puck, and a goal.

  “We get used to the boards today,” Vladimir says. “Take a stick if you can.”

  “What part of grace is this?” Priyanka asks. She clearly doesn’t want to play the game.

  “Grace is balance,” Vladimir says. “We must first teach you balance in all sorts of situations. I suggest you learn on the lake before we take the boards into the trees.” Vladimir points into the forest on the edge of the lake. “You don’t want to crash in there. Now get going.”

  Vladimir claps his hands. “Games are fun. We play games.”

  “No blindfolds?” a girl asks.

  “Not today,” Vladimir says. “You want to see where you are going, don’t you?” He chuckles and rubs his hands together. “You’ll see. I’ll meet you in the center. Grab a board and a stick and come on out.” Vladimir jumps back on the board. “Twist the handle, like this.” He twists the handle and rides out into the lake.

  There are four different patterns painted on the boards. I pick out a yellow and white striped one with the number fifty-three painted on it.

  “We should pick the same color,” Demi says, pointing to two yellow and white boards. One for her and one for Priyanka.

  I put my foot in the front strap and twist the handles to start the board. It pops up from the ground. I have to grab the handle to steady myself while I stick my other foot in the rear strap. These old boards are much more sensitive than the new ones and I’m tilting and swaying all over the place. It takes me a few minutes to adjust. After that, I keep the thing level.

  “You forgot your stick,” Demi says. She holds up her L shaped stick.

  Vladimir skates up to me and hands me a stick. He then instructs us to get used to the board. He shows us how to move with our weight, how to go fast and slow, and how to stop. These boards are old, but they are cool.

  “You had fun today, no?” Vladimir asks at the end of the session. “Easy yes?”

  Most of the kids agree with him. Others, including Priyanka, say nothing. Vladimir tells us we can come out whenever we want to practice. There’s no extra credit, but we’ll do better in the celebration games. Demi, Shah, and I head back planning our next practice.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The sun shining in my narrow window wakes me up early in the morning. I roll on my side, thinking of the last few days. The classes are fun. I have grace every day and feel more like a regular high school student in math and English. However, today is Thursday and my first day of slice. I want to make sure I am ready.

  I open the curtains to my bunk and sneak out with my shower bag. When I get to the common room, Burke is reclining on the couch reading a Flatpad.

  “Hi,” I say.

  I’ve gotten to know Burke better over the last few days. He eats with us. He sleeps with us. He has become a friend.

  “Hi,” Burke says. He sits up and glances my way. “Where are you going?”

  I explain to him that I want to prepare for slice. I’m nervous about the class and don’t really w
ant to go. He seems to understand because he puts down the Flatpad and asks me to sit next to him.

  “Why don’t you come with me today?” Burke says.

  “How can I?” I ask.

  I sit on the couch and sink into the soft cushion close enough to Burke for our legs to touch. It’s a good feeling.

  Burke puts his arm on the back of the couch and twists his body to face me.

  “I’ll tell Messier you are sick.”

  “You would do that for me?” I ask.

  He leans in closer.

  “Actually I want you to start practicing your stealth. I think it’s more important than slice. Especially after what you told me about your red.”

  “But you said…”

  “I know what I said. I have another reason.” Burke points to the Flatpad. “Things are getting dangerous out there. I think it’s better if you practice your skills. It’ll just be you and me. You should be safe.”

  A headline from the Flatpad catches my eye. Sixteen Killed in Token Death Raid. I pick up the Flatpad and scan the article. I want to make sure the raid wasn’t near my house.

  “The raid was down in south,” Burke says. “Your family should be safe. Why don’t you grab your regular clothes, go shower and meet me on the porch. I’ll take care of everything else.”

  I shower as fast as I can, excited about my adventure with Burke. Mostly because I don’t have to do slice. I don’t have to learn how to stab someone today. I’m a little bit excited about spending some alone time with Burke too.

  I meet Burke on the porch wearing my mom’s vest, a white shirt, and my jeans. I still have the turquoise brooch pinned to my shirt and my turquoise striped sneakers.

  “Where’s your token?” Burke asks as he takes off the pin. “Dead giveaway,” he says. He sticks the pin in my vest pocket.

  “It’s locked in my drawer,” I say.

  “Grab it,” he says. “I want you to take it with us.”

  If he makes me use it to log into a terminal, he’ll know I don’t have a red one. “I don’t want to touch it.”

  “Don’t worry so much,” Burke says. “I know it’s hard. I’m here to make it easier.”