The Sowing

Just ahead of Boaz, Crowley soars from a flashing red disc across the finish line.

Jorgen drops to his knees, hands in the air. “Yessssssssss!” Then he’s engulfed by a sea of holographic body parts, the remains of the nearby prisoners. He drops his face into his hands, his shoulders heaving.

Boaz leaps through him and disappears behind Crowley, in second place. Dahlia and Leander exchange a quick look of relief. They’re both safe—for now.

“Don’t worry, Boaz made it through. You’re both going to be fine,” Tristin coos into Corin’s ear.

But the words are as hollow as the images being projected all around us. The discs start flashing faster…

Only three Recruits left.

Including Cage.

Preshea moves into the lead, followed by Cage and the injured Drusilla.

“Please, oh, please, you can make it… come on, sweetheart!” Mrs. Grimstone’s face looks like that of a madwoman illuminated by rainbow lightning.

Arrah’s eyes are glued to the struggling Drusilla. She sinks to her knees, her forehead slick, eyes puffy, breaths short and quick. “C’mon, Dru…” she whispers.

Leander grabs her by the arm and pulls her to her feet. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

She rips her arm away. “Let go of me.”

Leander points a finger at Rodrigo, whose olive skin is pale as he stares at the field in silence. “You’re as bad as your little traitor friend Spark. Rod’s completely on his own and you’re on a first-name basis with Dru? Just how tight are you with this insurrectionist scum? How long have you been doing each other?”

Mr. Ryland steps between them. “Careful what you call my daughter—”

“Shut up!” Leander shoves him away and Mr. Ryland falls flat on his back with a loud crunch.

I lunge at Leander, pushing him back. “Leave him alone.”

His body’s a blur as he leaps forward and topples me. Then we’re rolling, fists connecting, my body exploding with the agony of his blows as I struggle to breathe. My knuckles crunch against his jaw, but he keeps pummeling me.

“Stop it, you two!” Tristin’s voice. “You want to end up in solitary?”

Then hands are pulling me away—Arrah and Mr. Ryland—while Dahlia and Rodrigo try their best to contain Leander, who’s snapping his teeth and spewing saliva like a rabid Canid.

“I swear I’m gonna kill you!” he spits, his voice muffled by his bloody nose.

Tristin points down the obstacle field. “Look!”

Preshea’s almost at the finish line, Cage not far behind her.

But it’s Drusilla that surprises us. Not bothering with leaping from one blinking disc to another, she’s decided on the most direct path. Right over the prisoners themselves. Using their writhing and screaming bodies as a living pathway, she jumps from one to the other in a straight line, her boots tromping on foreheads, cheeks, wrists until she soars past Preshea and disappears over the finish line. Leaving Preshea and Cage behind.

Arrah lets go of me, half-sobbing, half-laughing. Mrs. Grimstone is on her knees, hands clasped.

Preshea prepares to leap for the final disc with Cage right on her tail. Her image blurs in a green and crimson haze as she crosses the finish line. Cage is just an instant behind her.

Tristin’s hand feels warm against my ice-cold one as she squeezes it. She knows what’s coming.

I’m dead.

Cage’s jaw is set, rigid, his lips clenched. I’d have thought this would be an easy decision for him.

But Preshea’s smile vanishes, her eyes suddenly confused as she looks down at her abdomen. Cage’s eyes follow her gaze. Wisps of smoke swirl around her midsection.

Then the upper half of her body falls away at the waist, revealing a smoking stump of charred intestines that topples after it.

Mrs. Grimstone’s shriek tears through the entire chamber as the rest of us just watch in stunned silence.

Recruit Preshea’s poor performance has resulted in termination of her participation in the Trials. As such, both of her Incentives shall now be shelved.

Cassius’s words barely have enough time to register when two metallic claws descend from the ceiling and grab Rodrigo and Mrs. Grimstone, pulling them toward their cell.

Rodrigo looks like a frightened child. “What’s going on? Lee-Man! D! Help me… !”

“Hang on, Rod-Man!” Dahlia shouts as she and Leander try to grab his hands. But they’re no match for the powerful steel pincers clamped around his body.

Mrs. Grimstone is wailing over and over again, “My baby. They killed my baby.”

Then both Rodrigo and Mrs. Grimstone’s bodies are flung inside their cell, which seals behind them.

Rodrigo presses his face and hands against the glass, so much like that little boy in the prisoner pens. He’s sobbing. “Please. I don’t want to die. I wanna go home, man…”