Kill School: Slice (4 page)

“You like my signs?” he asks. “You believe in the end of
the world? It’s coming. I tell you.”

“I’d like my box back.”

I dust myself off and stand up, thinking of ways to grab my
box and run.

He shakes his head. “Don’t do it. You are too good to kill.
The devil will get you. He will take your soul. He took mine and devoured it.
You will never get it back. Everyone is going to die. Don’t you see it? Younger
and younger and younger I see.”

The man’s words become incoherent. He stands and holds my
box high above his head. His tattered clothes feather out like a bird’s wings. I
have to get my box.

“Give that to me,” I say through gritted teeth. My vile
tone stuns me. I am my father’s daughter.
Act nice
.

The man lowers his hands and chants, “Kill to live. Kill to
live. Kill to live.”

I grab the box and run. The man’s voice echoes in my head
with each step. Kill to live. Kill to live. The weight of the air crushes down
on my head, my arms, and my legs. I am no longer happy. I want to melt into a
pool of water and drown. Somebody has to die by my hands.

I rush
up the steps and into the townhome, unnerved by my experience. As I enter, I
call out my brother’s name, but he does not answer. I wish I knew where he was.
I want to open my box with him. Instead, I retreat to my room, and close the
door. Just to be sure, I lock it.

I sit on my bed holding the box with trembling hands.
Before I open the box, I get my guide out and flip to the page with all of the
tokens, their color, and kill age range. I memorized this page years ago.
Before we learned read, our teachers would show it to us in school. I don’t
need it, but I am afraid my brain will not work after I see my token. I review
the list, speaking the words aloud.

Birth to Five: Ruby Red

Six to Fifteen: Garnet

Sixteen to Eighteen: Turquoise

Young Adult: Opal

Adult: Pearl

Senior: Sapphire

Elder: Emerald Green

Here it is. My sixteenth birthday present, all wrapped up
with a neat little bow. I wonder why they even bother to present it in such a
beautiful package. It’s times like these, when I want to be alone but not
really alone, that I wish I had a cat or a dog. I imagine my pet would be
sitting right next to me licking my face, encouraging me to go on.
Open the
box
. I close my eyes, pull the ribbon, and open the box, hoping for Emerald
Green.

When I open my eyes, my heart stops. My token is not ruby
red, or emerald green. Knowing both these facts makes me feel relief and fear
at the same time. I won’t have to kill a baby and don’t get to kill an elder.
My token is not garnet or turquoise or opal. In fact, it’s not pearl or
sapphire either.

A translucent purple token rests in the velvet interior of
the box. It doesn’t match any of the colors in my book. I pick it up and feel
the weight of it in my hand. It’s the same size as my brother’s, but heavier
and certainly not turquoise. I hold it up to the light and watch the rays
refract violet light around the room.

This object can’t be a token. It’s a fake or a mistake. It
doesn’t look like any material I learned about anywhere in science or history class.

I flip through the rest of the pages of my book, comparing
more gemstones to my token. Quartz. Malachite. Aquamarine. Nope. Nope. Nope. I
turn the token over and slide the back panel open to reveal the nine-digit
security code. The only way to find out if the token is real is to enter the
code into the terminal. The results will produce a list of people in my kill
range.

The security numbers reset every thirty seconds just like
my brother’s does. At least that part of the token is functioning. I watch the
numbers change three times before I go to my terminal.

My hands shake as I enter the security code on the keyboard.
I fumble the numbers and have to wait for the code to reset. I dare not use
voice recognition in case my dad comes home and overhears me. This time, I type
carefully and hit enter.

Another screen pops up with over a dozen fields asking me
for more identifying information, including security questions, which I filled
out on one of the forms at the post office. My first pet. Fluffy. The street I
live on. Brookhaven. After I double and triple check my work, I hit the enter
key a final time.

A picture of my token appears on the screen. Under it is
the word amethyst. My token is an amethyst, a beautiful translucent purple
amethyst.

Four names appear on my list. There should be hundreds
broken down by neighborhood.
Maybe there is a glitch in the program.
I
recognize a few of the last names, Thorn, Halsted, but not their first. I
switch the list to map view to see where they live.

 What I see makes me gasp audibly and then turn around
quickly to make sure I haven’t been heard. The four people on my list are all from
Clarkhaven House. Thorn. Halsted. Krish. Azarian. No wonder I recognize their
last names. The four names on my list are the Regulators, the only people who
are supposed to be out of the termination pool.

It has to be a mistake. I can’t be assigned to terminate a
Regulator.
A Regulator
?  

I click on the name of Regulator Thorn, the Regulator
representing our city. She is a dark skinned woman with short brown hair. Like
the profiles we examined in class, the form lists her every detail. Her
address, her schedule, where she works, eats, and shops. If this is a mistake,
why does the computer have a record on her? I can’t kill a Regulator. That
would be the craziest, most impossible and dangerous thing to do.

Dad will be home soon. I can’t let him see my token. I
don’t want anyone to know, not even my brother, not until I figure out what to
do. Dad will want to see it. I can’t hide it. I have to change its color.

I jump off my bed and race into my bathroom. Rifling
through nail polish colors, I look for one that matches another token. It’s too
hard to match without the book, so I scoop up the lot of polish and drop them
on my bed.

The red nail polish is too red, the green not sufficiently translucent.
Several other colors are close, but not close enough. The only color that is a
match is turquoise. I sigh. The same color as my brother’s token. Everyone will
think I have to kill a sixteen to eighteen year old. 

I paint the token with the turquoise nail polish and dry it
with my hair dryer. I apply two more coats. Finally, when the job is complete,
I admire my work. It will pass. For now. I grab my mom’s bracelet and carefully
lay the token in the compartment. I close the clasp on the bracelet around my
wrist and smile. The turquoise color glows through the gold bracelet. My secret
is safe.

A crash
coming from the kitchen disturbs me. Someone is here, but it’s too early for my
dad. I rush out of my room to find my brother sweeping up a broken bowl. He has
a black eye and a gash across his chin. Twigs matt his unruly hair. Viviane,
his girlfriend of three years, stands by his side—a perfect semblance of beauty.

“Sebastian,” I say. “How bad are you hurt? Should I call Mom?”

“No,” Sebastian says. “Don’t you dare?” He holds his ribs,
as if it is painful to speak.

I regard Viviane warily. We are not close. She thinks my
brother spends too much time with me. I squeeze between her and my brother,
which makes her fold her arms across her chest. I don’t care what she thinks. I
need to make sure Sebastian is not hurt.

“Mom is worried to death about you.” I tuck his hair behind
his ear and look at the bruise on his face. By the purple-blue color, it must
have happened last night. “She needs to know you are alright. So does Dad.”

“We have to go, Sebastian.” Viviane pushes me aside. “I
want to go home.”

“Sebastian, did you use it?” I regard the chain around his
neck. The end, where the token should hang, hides under his shirt.

He shakes his head and brings Viviane into his arms.
“Someone from South tried to kill Viviane. I couldn’t let him. Cowardly savage,
going after her for no reason at all.” He presses his lips to Viviane’s head.
“I wish I could have traded places with you. I would have killed the puny
little runt if I weren’t saving...” Sebastian’s voice trails off.

My eyes narrow at him. He’s hiding something. He glances at
me with a look so hopeless and lost, that it clutches at my heart. Instead of
asking him more, I turn my attention toward Viviane.

Viviane looks unharmed, but shaken. I may not like her, but
I feel sorry for her. I see Sebastian marrying Viviane and having a family. The
way they hold each other, I know they will last. If no one uses a token against
them. Instantly, I feel protective over both of them.

“Why don’t you stay here awhile,” I say. “You’re safe as
long as we keep the door closed. Maybe the puny, little runt will forget about
her and choose a new target.” I smile as politely as I can at Viviane. It’s
painful to watch my brother suffer, both physically and mentally.

Sebastian splashes water on his face and regards Viviane.
“What do you think?”

“Please say yes.” I hand my brother a dishtowel to wipe his
face, regarding Viviane hopefully. “It’s my birthday.” My heart skips a beat at
the mention of my birthday. I touch Mom’s bracelet, now holding my nail polish
covered token.

“You’re sixteen?” Viviane asks.

Viviane’s face flushes and her hand moves to her token,
which she has captured in a silver mesh brooch pinned to her shirt. The
sapphire color shines through. Senior. Someone too old to have children, but
with a long and healthy life left ahead of them.

I nod. A warm tear drops down my cheek.

“Don’t cry.” Viviane wraps her arms around me, a gesture
I’ve seen her do to her closest friends in school. Viviane. Popular.
Cheerleader. “I mean, I cried too. Don’t feel bad about it. We all do.” She
glances up at my brother.

 “Oh crap, Aria.” Sebastian hugs Viviane and me at the same
time. He’s like a grizzly bear holding us in his arms. “I totally lost track of
the day. We’ve been up all night.”

“More reason for you to stay,” I say softly. “You need to
rest.”

My brother grabs my arm and examines the token hidden
beneath the bracelet. He extends my arm to Viviane so that she can examine it
as well.

“Turquoise. You too?” Sebastian searches my eyes. My nail
polish trick worked.

I nod. “Me too.”

“That’s crazy,” Viviane says. “A brother and sister both
turquoise. More kids in my class were too, over a dozen.” She regards Sebastian
with lowered eyes. “Why do you think that is?”

“The algorithm adjusts automatically depending on how many
babies are born,” Sebastian says.

“So what?” Viviane asks. She can’t read Sebastian’s mind as
I can.

“The algorithm was created to control the population.” I
meet Sebastian’s eyes. “Kids like us grow up to be mothers and fathers.”

Sebastian regards Viviane with an intensity felt only with
lovers. I pull away from his arms. Viviane is wrong. He doesn’t love me more
than her.

“Right, Aria,” Sebastian says. “We’ll bring too many babies
into this world. Aria, you have no idea what it’s like out there. People are
starving. Out of the city, into the country. Farms are failing. Crops freezing.
They keep so much from us, Aria. You have no idea.”

Viviane glances at me and tilts her head, as if she’s
trying to figure something out. I want to ask my brother more but Viviane stops
me by touching my shoulder.

“Aria,” Viviane says slowly. “What does Sebastian do all
those nights at home? By the way he makes it sound; your parents never let him
out.”

Sebastian is rarely home. I assumed they were out together,
running through the streets, searching for a target. This news surprises me,
but after what Sebastian has just told us, it shouldn’t. Viviane and I both regard
Sebastian suspiciously.

“We play games,” Sebastian says with a shrug of his
shoulders.

Just then, the door opens and my father walks in, breaking
the tension between us. Dad rushes over to me without acknowledging Sebastian,
although I think he’s seen him.

“Aria, how was your birthday? What did you get?” He hugs me
and hands me a bouquet of daffodils and tulips.

“Turquoise.” I hold out the bracelet for him to examine.

“Oh, I was hoping for emerald.” Dad frowns. “I’m sorry.” He
looks truly hurt. He then turns to Sebastian and registers his bruised eye and
matted hair. “Are you staying for dinner?” Dad’s tone is more of a command than
a question. In fact, it’s quite strong for my dad.

“Sure,” Sebastian says.

Dad insists that Sebastian and Viviane go upstairs and wash
up while he cooks my birthday dinner. When I offer to help, he sends me
upstairs as well. He picks up the phone and I hear him talking to mom as
Sebastian, Viviane, and I ascend the stairs.

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?