Kora (Kora Series Book 1)

by Marina Epley

  Hard work and plenty of protein soon change my body. Muscles on my arms and legs become tighter and stronger, my back less slouched. Yet for the time being I’m the slowest racer in the group. Even little Topaz and Martha are faster. I happen to have almost inhuman stamina, being able to run longer distances than everybody else. But I’m the last to cross the finish line during speed training.

  Joan lectures us on how we have to overcome our weak minds, breaking down all barriers and learning to think like winners. She believes that we slow ourselves down merely by thinking we can’t run faster. Personally, I think her mind games are worthless. No matter what you choose to believe in, you can’t outrun your own physical limitations. Once you push yourself past your limit, you’ll cramp up, become short of breath, vomit and maybe even pass out. This happens to Dennis. He drops to his hands and knees after hard intervals, gagging and choking. His body shudders and his face becomes a ghastly greenish-white. Even Joan chooses to give him a break.

  “You’ll be grateful later, boy,” she sighs. “The harder you train, the better your odds for survival.”

  Back in our quarters, Amy and I continue wondering what exactly it is we’ll have to survive. We come up with the same questions over and over again. Why do we have to run from the dogs? Why do we need to know how to climb ropes, do pull-ups or crawl through the mud? And whom exactly are we going to compete against?

  We have too many questions with no certain answers. Too many guesses with no real clues. Our fear of the unknown increases. I have a strong inner sense that I’m caught up in some sort of trap. A sinking feeling that I’m heading toward something horrible, with no idea when the trouble is going to start.

  One day during intervals I suffer a cramp and collapse in front of everybody. Logan, the boy who earlier called me a rat, runs past.

  “Loser,” he whispers. “Stinking piece of trash.”

  Joan dismisses me, and I wander off, limping and fighting hard to hold back tears. Once alone, I plop down on the ground and rub my leg, sobbing. I can bear it no longer. There’s just too much pain and suffering to go with this coming mysterious Terror Race on top.

  “Take it easy,” Brutus says quietly, approaching. “All racers have bad days. You shouldn’t get so upset over a little cramp.”

  “It’s not about the pain,” I wipe away my tears. “I’m just… the slowest. I suck at running.”

  “You’re strong and well-coordinated. It’ll help you more than just being fast.”

  Help me with what? I wonder. Why do I need to have good coordination?

  “Brutus, please tell me what the Terror Race is,” I plead. “You used to be a racer, didn’t you? You must know something.”

  His face darkens. He nods but doesn’t explain anything.

  “Please tell me,” I beg, anxious and worried. “Where are all the other racers from previous years? Are they free now? Are they still alive?”

  “Pull yourself together, girl.” His voice becomes strict. “And stop asking all these questions.”

  I watch as he leaves, heading back toward the track. I’d never dare to attempt a conversation like that with Joan. After the incident with the dog, she branded me a troublemaker. She warned how she was always going to be keeping an eye on me.

  ***

  Sunday is our recovery day. We don’t have to train and are even allowed to leave our quarters. So Amy and I stroll down to the Central Settlement to gawk at all the luxurious cars, huge mansions and stylishly-dressed people.

  One day we wind up on a deserted beach near our training facility. We sit on the warm golden sand, enjoying the breeze and gazing at the ocean. It’s quiet and peaceful. I smile, soaking up the sunshine and tasting the salt from the air on my lips. Amy shares stories about her village. I tell her about my mother, Augusta and Dimitri, suddenly feeling homesick.

  “No way! Can you really read?” Amy’s eyes widen. “How did you learn?”

  “We had school back in our village,” I explain, “although I did skip a lot of classes. It was Dimitri’s idea. He wanted his servants to have some sort of education.”

  “Well, our master preferred his servants dumb,” Amy smirks. “I so wish I could go to school. Maybe I’ll do so someday, when I’m no longer a servant.”

  “What else are you going to do when you’re free?” I ask. “I mean, who do you want to become?”

  “I still want to catch fish,” Amy answers. “That’s who I am. I want to buy a boat and have my own fishing outfit. And take care of my family. A few of the liberated servants in our village have already done so. I could borrow the money from someone, hire some workers.” She flashes an excited smile. “I know everything about catching, storing and selling fish. And I could also do some shell diving for pearls. I love pearls, look!” She dangles her bracelet. “I made this myself. These pearls are low quality, so the master allowed me to keep them because I was one of the best workers.”

  I tentatively touch the bracelet. The dark gray pearls seem perfect to me, all smooth and shiny.

  “What about you?” Amy asks. “What will you do once you’re free?”

  I mutter something incoherently. Any ideas about my future are vague at best.

  “You know,” Amy says. “I will need somebody smart, someone who can read and write, when I open my store. Do you think you’d like to come live in my village?”

  “Oh sure,” I answer. I envision myself wearing a business suit, exchanging pearls for money. The image is alluring.

  “We could buy houses next door to one another and be neighbors,” she suggests. “And your mom could come live with you. I can’t wait to meet her. And we’ll have lots of beautiful dresses, shoes and jewelry when we become rich.”

  Her gaze becomes distant and dreamy.

  “I’ve never owned any jewelry,” I say.

  “Are you kidding?” Amy takes off her bracelet. “Here! Take this one. I want you to have it.”

  I refuse to accept her generous gift, but Amy doesn’t listen to my objections. She places the bracelet on my wrist.

  “You’re my best friend,” she says defiantly.

  I thank her, staring at the pearls in astonishment. Back in the Recycling village, I once made a bracelet from metal wire I’d found while sorting garbage. Samantha and her friends laughed at me, and I threw it away.

  “It’s hot. Let’s go swim!” Amy grabs my hand, pulling me toward the water.

  I remind her that we have no swimwear.

  “So what?” she laughs. “We’re all alone out here!”

  She quickly undresses, running toward the water completely naked. I’m shocked, but feel I have to keep up with my friend. Anyway, it is really hot and the ocean looks so appealing. I leave on my shirt and underwear out of modesty, and join Amy. We swim far out from the shore, discussing our future business ventures. The water is pleasant and cool. Amy reminds me of a mermaid, looking natural and somehow still decent while gliding effortlessly through the waves.

  “I’m used to going naked or close to it,” she admits. “Back in my village, everyone went around in swimsuits most of the time.”

  I imagine myself living in her village. Well, I suppose I could get used to that.

  We get cold and head back to the shore. To my surprise, there are now two guys standing in front of our pile of clothes. I squint into the sun, trying to make out who they are. It’s Logan and his friend. I become nervous.

  “Hey guys,” Amy says sweetly, standing neck-deep in the water. “Would you mind going away for a few minutes? We need to dress.”

  “Come on out, beautiful,” Logan says, curling his lips into a mocking smile. “We won’t bite.”

  “Oh come on,” Amy’s grin becomes strained. “That’s not funny. Give us some privacy for goodness sakes.”

  “What do we get if we do?” Logan chuckles. “Will you give me and my friend a kiss if we let you come out? How about it, bashful?”

  They laugh. Amy glares at them. I stand beside her, trembl
ing. I wish I could kill those two jerks.

  “Come on out, honey,” Logan continues. “You have to choose. You can continue freezing in the water or agree to make out with us, so we’ll let you and your trashy friend dress.”

  Amy curses quietly, whispering words no decent girl should know.

  “Screw them!” she snorts, grabbing my hand. “Let’s go. They won’t dare touch us.”

  We walk side by side, holding hands and heading straight toward Logan and his friend.

  “Hold your head high,” Amy whispers. “And stare them down.”

  I straighten my back, teeth chattering. I realize that if these two creeps try to touch or further offend my friend in any way, I’ll attack them. I’d rather die than let them harm Amy.

  The guys freeze, staring at her open-mouthed. Logan’s friend is the first to look away. Amy and I march right between them, and she manages to bump Logan with a shoulder. He stumbles a couple of feet away, dumbfounded. I don’t think he’s ever seen a naked girl before.

  Taking her time, Amy dresses, without the least bit of shame on her face. I hurriedly pull on my pants and shoes. Then Amy shows a finger to the guys, cussing them like a sailor, and we leave.

  “What the heck?” she rages all the way to our quarters. “I mean what kind of sick freaks are they? Why in the world would they act that way? I mean, it’s just disgusting! No guy in my village would ever do anything like that. Girls often swam naked back home and nobody ever bothered us. What’s wrong with those two jerks?”

  I remain silent, being shaken to the core by the incident. I look at Amy in astonishment, still disbelieving I have such a brave and confident friend.

  ***

  One Sunday Dennis and Sandro come to our quarters, bearing bunches of wild flowers for Amy, Topaz, Martha and even me.

  “Oh thank you! That’s so sweet!” Amy murmurs, putting her arms around Dennis and placing a kiss softly on his lips. He grins, looking very pleased with himself, and promptly invites us on a date to the park. We all agree.

  I do realize that Dennis likely only wants to spend some time with Amy. He’s just too polite to leave the rest of us behind. But I don’t really mind, feeling grateful for the invitation. Nobody has ever brought me flowers before.

  So we all head over to a nearby park to stroll while gazing at birds and the tropical greenery. I’m wearing one of Amy’s nightgown style dresses, one which barely covers my butt. It hangs on me like a bag, but I don’t care, feeling pretty in spite of the poor fit.

  Amy and Dennis walk a few paces ahead, holding hands and talking non-stop about hunting and fishing. Dennis shares a story how he once killed a bear, and Amy tells how their fishermen accidentally caught a large shark that sank the boat. The rest of us trail along behind. Sandro is too shy to speak, and I’m quiet as well, having no idea what to say. Topaz and Martha tell us about their life in Central Settlement.

  “We used to serve in the master’s kitchen,” Topaz says. “I know how to prepare meals and bake. I used to sell cupcakes. My mom said I was really good at that. But it’s not really what I wanted. When I earn my freedom, I’d like to become a librarian and be around books all the time.”

  I envision myself being a librarian, reading books all day long with few people around. It seems like heaven.

  “Wow! You know how to read too?” Amy turns back, looking at Topaz with respect.

  The little girl nods. “Martha and I went to school where we read plenty of books.”

  “I love the old fairy tales about noble knights and princes,” Martha utters. “I wish a real prince would come to rescue me one day and then…” She closes her eyes, giggling. “Then we’d fall in love and get married.”

  “You mean, you want to marry… Gabriel?” Amy asks.

  “Oh no!” Martha exclaims, terrified. “Only not Gabriel, please!”

  “Well, he’s the only prince we’ve got,” Amy laughs.

  It’s a long lazy day and life seems so good. I suddenly wonder how many of us will earn our desired yet illusive freedom. Will any of us ever get the chance to fulfill our dreams?

  ***

  I sometimes cry silently at night, thinking about Trent. He’s been ignoring me since our last conversation. I wonder whether it’s my fault and if I could do something to change things. Should I approach him? Should I ask him point blank whether he likes me or not, and if he’d like to be my boyfriend? I just don’t know. But I do know I’m not that courageous yet. In spite of having such great friends like Amy, Martha and Topaz, I still feel like an outcast. And I often think how things might somehow change, if only Trent would fall in love with me. If only he would choose me over all the other girls. I’d know I’m not a freak, and that I’m worth loving. Unfortunately, Trent doesn’t seem to care about how I feel.

  Most of the other racers avoid me, still angry after the incident with the dog. It makes me want to cry. It’s all so unfair. Samantha doesn’t bother me, which is surprising. She mostly keeps to herself, quiet and absent-looking. Every once in a while I see her with Trent.

  The days drift by and in the fourth month of our training Gabriel arrives to watch us run on the track. He orders us to form a line in front of him, and unholsters his handgun. I get a really bad feeling.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Was I clear enough when I said I don’t tolerate laziness?” Gabriel says, his tone apathetic. “I asked you to perform one simple request, to work hard to achieve outstanding results. But I’ll be damned if any of you understood what was requested. Are you too stupid to understand? Or just too lazy? Maybe you think it’s my fault because I didn’t provide detailed enough instruction?”

  We all stand motionless, eyes averted, just listening. Gabriel holds up a stack of papers, shaking them.

  “Here!” His voice becomes harsher. “I have all your results recorded. And I can swear I’ve never seen another group of racers with results this bad.” He smacks the nearest girl across the face with the reports. “What’s this? Is this what you call hard work? Are these supposed to be the excellent results I asked you to deliver?”

  The girl closes her eyes, shivering. My heart races and I feel like I’m about to throw up.

  “Damn you all!” Gabriel shouts, tossing the papers into Sandro’s face. “You’re all worthless. Not one of you is worth the money my family paid.”

  “They’ve only had four months of training, master,” Brutus says. “It takes much longer to achieve satisfactory results.”

  Joan stands aside, brooding and silent.

  Gabriel smirks. “Have you just disagreed with my analysis, Brutus?”

  “No, master.” Brutus lowers his head. “You’re absolutely right.”

  Gabriel rolls his eyes and looks spitefully at him. I wonder why Brutus is so scared of Gabriel. Aren’t Brutus and Joan free? Don’t they have the right to do or say whatever they please?

  “What can I do to inspire you?” Gabriel says, walking down the line. “How might I convert you into hard-working racers?”

  He stops in front of Trent, pointing the gun directly into his face. He then approaches Topaz and Martha, smiling and softly brushing their chins with the weapon.

  I suddenly realize that our results have little to do with Gabriel’s anger. He’s just using this as an excuse to intimidate and torture us, enjoying our fear.

  I stand frozen, trying not to move, trying not to breathe, just as I always do when hiding from dogs during training. The problem is, Gabriel isn’t a dog. He’s something much worse. He’s a brutal, sadistic master whom we’re powerless against.

  “I know what we’ll do for starters,” he says. “We’ll have a little race. I want you to run three laps around the track. And the last to cross the finish line will be shot in the head.”

  He flashes a bright smile, waving the gun in the air. I can’t believe this is really happening. My legs turn to mush and I feel spineless. He wouldn’t really kill the last racer, would he? I look into his cold, blue eyes and realize h
e certainly might.

  “Come on,” he grins. “Let’s have a little fun.”

  Joan strikes the ground with her whip, causing me to flinch. “Hurry! Move it!”

  We obediently proceed to the start line, fear thickening the air. I suddenly wonder why no one attempts to do anything. There are no guards present. There is only Brutus, Joan with her whip and Gabriel with his gun. Yet we all remain silent and submissive.

  I don’t have time to ponder the thought.

  “Go!” Gabriel yells, firing his gun in the air.

  I spring forward, pure adrenaline shooting through my veins instead of blood. The space around me fills with heavy footsteps and ragged breaths. Amy runs beside me along with Martha and Topaz. It feels odd, as if being in a dream world. After the first hundred yards my mind finally clears, and I’m able to make out Dennis and Sandro running ahead. I have no idea where Trent is.

  After completing half a lap, I realize that I’m falling behind. Several guys overtake me, and a wave of terror begins to well in my chest. I can already envision myself kneeling in front of Gabriel, begging him to spare my life as he presses the gun into my forehead. I can’t let it happen. Panicking, I increase my speed, sprinting past a few others. I already know that the pace is too fast for me, but I can’t make myself slow. I’m running scared. Our group completes the first lap, when my injured knee suddenly starts aching.

  “Come on!” Gabriel yells. “Faster! Go, go, go!”

  My leg is killing me. It feels like something inside my knee is about to tear apart. I panic even more, anxiety overtaking me. I’m losing my breath, sucking in air in painful loud wheezes. I have to stop or at least slow down. But I can’t do it, not just yet.