We all go to our rooms after dinner feeling confused as to why the ominous cut hasn’t occurred yet. How many more days must we walk around on egg shells? Will someone come at night like our verbal test a few days ago but dismiss us? When is the cut happening? And are they trying to drive us crazy and test our reactions since “everything is a test”?
Sunday morning I wake up with a jolt and look around to see that I’m still in my fancy bed. No one came in the night to dismiss me. I find myself somewhat excited for the physical fitness test today, as I know that I have done more hard work than some of these girls. I’m also more so excited because I’m still here. Does this mean we have made it past the first cut and are that much closer to our families getting promoted? Or has the cut even happened yet?
Down at breakfast, Cadence is nowhere to be found along with two other girls. We have a two-hour break before our fitness test so we sit in the sitting area of the floor Attie is on and wait it out chatting with one another. It’s a relief that some girls are gone because it means that the cuts are happening, but since there isn’t a clear dismissal procedure, it’s unnerving that any of us could go missing next.
“I’m sure she’s fine. She even said she wasn’t sure she wanted to be here,” Marcia offers about Cadence.
“I know. It just sucks that we never even get to say goodbye or anything.” I shrug soberly.
“Oh, I agree with you totally, Reagan.” Attie sighs. “I thought there would be an announcement at the end of the day, or even a small ceremony, or just something with closure. Then those people would pack their things and say goodbye. Like they said, it’s a big deal they made it even as far as they did.”
“Yeah, that’s just not how we roll in Denver,” Vanessa says as if it explains everything.
“Well, how do you roll then? And why do you sit with us when you could be sitting with the Denver girls?” Renae demands, borderline haughty-like.
The stress of the last few days has obviously been getting to her. She looks worn out and the dark circles under her eyes prove it. For some reason, she doesn’t seem to like Vanessa very much. Probably because Vanessa is very pretty. But unlike Renae, Vanessa doesn’t seem to know she is pretty. She wears her dark brown hair shorter in a cropped style and always wears a light layer of makeup. It’s almost like she’s trying to hide that she’s that beautiful, which messes with Renae’s insecurities big time. Renae is all about flaunting it if you’ve got it.
Vanessa smiles at Renae, not at all mad. “I sit with you all because half of those girls were raised knowing they were the same age as Henry so they could be a potential bride for him, thus are here for him and him only. The other half probably have hidden agendas from their fathers in politics or the military. Plus, you misfits are way more entertaining.” She automatically looks towards Marcia.
“So which one are you? Here for Henry or here with an agenda?” Renae asks rudely again.
“Neither. Or I guess you could say an agenda. My dad would kill me if I didn’t give it my best, and he would hear about it too. So here I am. It’s not like we can quit if we wanted to. They tell us when we leave if you haven’t noticed,” she responds, ignoring Renae’s continued rudeness.
We all know now that Vanessa’s dad is some sort of important military man. She hasn’t really been all that forthcoming in telling us what he does, but she hasn’t been trying to mislead us about who he is either.
Attie’s eyebrows raise and she leans in closer in excitement as we broach her favorite topic. “So how long have they been training or whatever to be with Henry?”
“Since grade school. When he would come for yearly tests, all the girls would throw themselves at him, and I mean we are talking since first grade! I know you fancy him Attie, and I hope he likes you because you are a total sweetheart, but know that some of those girls would literally claw your face out in order to have him,” Vanessa says truthfully and quickly glances at Renae as if thinking that it sounds like something Renae would do.
“Thanks for telling us, Vanessa,” I say and mean it.
I would rather know that now versus later if I make it very far in this. It seems I’m already behind if people have been training for this. Even the other townships have been training for the Culling apparently.
The topic of conversation then leads to the other boys and Attie runs down the hallway to get her packet of information. We have the great debate on who is the most handsome from just the pictures and get insider information on the boys from the girls in the same township. We avoid Henry as everyone knows if they want to be Madam President, Henry is the best shot. Attie just holds on to his picture as we go through the rest.
When we get to the picture of Maverick, Vanessa actually sounds interested for once.
“Now there is a boy that I would chase,” she says proudly. “He’s got brains and looks. Hopefully, he’s taller than me.”
“Nope, I want this one,” Marcia picks up the picture of the very muscular boy named Bronson from Denver and imitates him by flexing her muscles, or trying to.
Vanessa snorts a giggle, knowing but seeming uninterested in all the Denver boys.
Agnes picks the almost laughing guy from Galveston named Trent. Renae picks Benjamin and winks at me knowing he is from Omaha. Everyone but me has sort of picked someone at this point. Marcia looks at me and gestures with her head for me to choose.
On a whim, I decide to pick Lyncoln, the lone man not smiling. Mr. Blue-eyes. I figure I will get teased the least about him. Like someone this intimidating and attractive would even talk to me anyway.
“Oh, really?” Vanessa smiles with raised eyebrows in surprise.
“He looks confident and…dangerous? Maybe mysterious? I want to know who ‘peed on his pillow’,” I explain, borrowing a Marcia phrase and wink at her.
“Go figure. Well you’ve got that right about the dangerous,” Vanessa laughs.
“What do you mean?” Attie asks intrigued although she holds on to Henry’s picture for dear life.
“You will just have to find out for yourselves.” Then she looks at me and shakes her head while smiling.
****
“I wish I never had to pee. Ever again!” Marcia groans, “My legs are killing me.”
I giggle as we leave to go back to our rooms after breakfast Monday morning. Since the fitness test on Sunday was quite long, the rest of the day we got free time to get to know one another and study up on our classes and the load of new information. I rather enjoyed the fitness test as afterward we were escorted by our guards out to the gardens around the inner building of Mile High. It was the first sunlight I had seen for a week and I loved it.
“So since it’s Monday, we have officially made it past the first cut, don’t you think?” I ask, still doubting I really made it.
“I would assume so. I better have. I can’t move. They’d have to wheel me home,” Marcia shrugs dramatically as we wait for the elevator.
Neither one of us comments on how we are that much farther to helping our families, but knowing how much Marcia adores her family, I know we are both thinking it.
“I just wish they would make an announcement of some sort or something. Like, ‘Hey, you made it!’”
“Screw that! I just wish I didn’t have to wear heels every day,” Marcia laughs. “I mean, come on!”
I laugh too, “Good point. How did the Madam President do it?” I shake my head in wonder. I have had to soak and massage my feet numerous times. Yesterday was fabulous as I wore my new tennis shoes we were given for the fitness test all day long. Glorious. Who knew tennis shoes could be so therapeutic?
We board the elevator and go to our rooms to freshen up. I’m really growing close to Marcia, more so than the other girls, and I hope for both our sakes we stick around for a while.
After adjusting my skirt suit, fixing my hair and makeup, and putting my heels back on, I’m ready to go with plenty of time to spare. I journal a little bit and then decide to head to Cullin
g class.
Since it’s morning, Jamie will be delivering me to class as he has been doing the day shift for now. I’ve made it a point to ask my guards questions every day to get to know them better. I know that Sarge has three children already and wouldn’t mind a few more, and not just because the country strongly urges it; he just genuinely likes kids. I know that Jamie is the youngest of four brothers who are all in the military at some position or another. Jamie reminds me so much of Ashton that it seems to help me not miss him as much.
“So are your brothers stuck here for the Culling too?” I ask.
I know Sarge says he’s missing his family because he barely gets to see them until we are done, or until I’m done, but he told me he wants me to make it as far as I can anyway.
“One other brother, yes. But not as a guard,” he says stiffly.
“Well can you tell me what he does?” I ask.
“No,” he responds, unusually short-lipped.
“Would I even want to know?” I ask with raised eyebrows. I’m finding there is a lot more going on behind the scenes to the Culling than I ever would’ve thought.
“No.”
Hmmm. Okay then. Time to change the topic so he doesn’t seem so tense.
“So does your mom like all of you being in the military? I know I said it before, but I will say it again, that poor woman!”
“She doesn’t have much choice, but yes she loves it. My oldest brother and his wife are expecting their first baby, so she is currently over the moon. I think she wants it to be a girl so she isn’t so outnumbered.” He lights up when talking about this brother, much unlike the other one.
“I can’t wait for my brother to get married and have kids,” I say thinking of Ashton. He is almost 23. Men have seven years to find a mate and must be married by 25, while women have only four years and must be married by at 22. It seems a little odd, but since the men have military training and the women are strongly urged to have at least three children by the time they are 30, it’s just the way it is. Most women get married around 20 and most men get married around 23.
“It’s something special. Marriage that is,” he says and smiles.
I know from our previous discussions that Jamie was married when he was 20 to his childhood sweetheart and then his wife sadly passed away from a brain aneurysm shortly after. He hasn’t yet remarried, although by law he will have to when the allotted five years is up since he doesn’t have kids.
“You’ll find her,” I smile sadly, full of empathy for his having to lose his wife so young. “She can never replace your wife, but you’ll find her.”
“Thanks,” he says and reaches over to ruffle my hair even though he probably shouldn’t. We are becoming more and more like brother and sister every day.
He leaves me at the door like usual. I grab a bottle of water, sit down, and quietly wait for class to begin. After waiting for what seems like forever, I look at my watch and see that our class should have started over five minutes ago. That just never happens. We all look around at each other wondering what we should do and if this is another test of some sort.
About that time, our instructor, Professor Bennett, and two guards arrive at the front of the room. Sometimes Professor Bennett is dressed in his military uniform, some days in a suit and tie. Today he is in his military uniform. For some reason it makes the gray hair he is starting to get look more noticeable.
“As you can see,” he begins very obviously upset and all business, “we are late in starting class. We have an issue that needs to be addressed.” He loudly calls out, “Ms. Julia Collins.”
We all stop and stare at her. From the tone of his voice, she’s in deep trouble. She’s the girl I sat by for the first written exam. In what little conversations I have had with her, she seems very intelligent, shy, but intelligent nonetheless.
She looks nervous but gives a confident, “Yes, sir?”
“Did you or did you not try to contact a boy in the Culling from your township?”
“I did. I jus--” she doesn’t even get to finish trying to explain.
“A simple yes or no will suffice. Did you or didn’t you?” he says more rudely than I have ever seen the professor. His voice is boomingly loud. Borderline yelling. He’s about to blow a gasket.
“I tried to,” she says honestly and looks a little ashamed. “I didn’t, but I did try to.”
“Did you or did you not know it was against the Culling rules, the ones which you were told and received on the day you got here?” He begins walking towards her.
“I did,” she says looking nervous and worried.
He slams his hand down on the corner of her table, making us all jump. “You are dismissed from the Culling. For not following directions, your family is demoted from your original positions in your township. You will serve a week in jail and three months community service in your township. You will never see Denver ever again. Do I make myself clear?”
Holy crap! That’s a bit harsh.
Julia’s face turns red and tears start to form as she struggles to keep herself composed. “I’m sorry. I just had to warn him…”
“ENOUGH!” he yells and grabs her by the arm harder than he needed to as he forces her to stand up.
I have never seen him lose his nerve like this, or be so…violent.
“You are done here. If any more discussion needs to be made, I should remind you that jails and community service aren’t the only forms of punishment this country has in its arsenal,” he says quietly as he moves her forward to the guards. I happen to be sitting near the wall by the door, so I hear every word of it. A shudder moves through me as I realize he’s talking about expulsion.
It’s a cruel form of punishment really only used immediately post-Trident for those trying to disrupt the balance of the new government. Expulsion meant you were on your own, no food, no water, in the middle of nowhere, and more than likely would find death by the populous numbers of predators in the wild. It’s basically a death sentence, but a seemingly more humane way of doing it. And it’s beyond harsh, even if he is just threatening her.
“Please. I will do anything. Just not my family!” she begs him, tears now streaming freely down her face.
“Too late,” he glares then gestures to the guards, “Go ahead and take her.”
They quickly remove her and we can hear her crying all the way down the hallway to the elevator.
He turns back to the rest of us. “Let that be a lesson to you all. You are not here for you. You may not do as you please. You are here to be molded into the next leaders of the country. You will participate, you will do your best, and you will follow the rules, or there will be consequences.” He looks around the room at every one of us as his threat settles in, and then his face softens for only a moment. “This isn’t an easy process. I should know, I was a candidate in the last one. But this is a matter of national security. We have to be able to trust you to run our country. If you can’t handle this process, you definitely won’t handle the presidency. Oh, and you all have officially made it past the first cut. Class dismissed.”
Our Culling class only lasted a few minutes.
No one moves until well after he storms out of the room and down the hallway.
What the heck just happened?
Chapter 5
Later that night, I can’t help but think that Julia knew something that I don’t. Who was she trying to warn and why? I look through my study guides over the things we are learning. Since I doubt it’s about etiquette, I study the other two classes thoroughly, coming up with nothing. We have a test on the second Culling coming up, but that’s mainly names and people. Something just doesn’t add up. The little I knew of Julia, it seems uncharacteristic of her to blatantly disregard the rules like that.
I then go to my packet and look through the Galveston boys. Which one was she trying to get to? She said she had to warn him about something. What was it? If it wasn’t something she learned from class, she must have heard it fro
m someone. Who were her friends? I make a conscious decision to try to get to know Honor and Haley better as they were both from her township and might know more. Maybe not tomorrow because I don’t want to seem snoopy, but definitely soon. What had that girl so concerned that she took such a huge risk? I don’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning about Julia.
The very next morning my week gets worse as Agnes is missing from breakfast. I try to tell myself that she just overslept and is skipping breakfast, but then she misses both morning classes and in Professor Bennett’s class we have the test on the second Culling. Then she is still absent at lunch. It would make it easier if there were more girls missing. I would know then that more cuts were being made, but the end of the first set of cuts was just yesterday.
After dinner, I finally summon up every ounce of courage I have and catch Elle in the hallway after our written exam.
“Elle. I know I’m probably out of line, but can you just tell me if Agnes is gone? Can you tell me that she’s okay? She isn’t in any sort of trouble like Julia is she?”
“You know I can’t, Reagan.” Elle smiles sadly which makes the tears well up in my eyes. She puts a hand on my arm and says, “Just trust the process.”
“Some days that is easier than others.” I shrug and leave to get in the elevator with Sarge. I’m almost in tears by the time I reach my room. I don’t want to go in there. I love my bed, but today this place seems more like a jail. First Julia and the way she left. Now Agnes? And no one can even tell me she’s okay? What the heck?
As I get to the door to my room, Sarge tries to give me a smile of confidence but I’m not in the mood for everyone and their empty support. I let myself in my room, change into my pajamas, turn out the lights, hold onto the picture of my family from home and hug it to my body as I cry.
****
The Culling: Book 1 (The Culling Series) Page 10