The Selection Read online

  "Yeah, I think so. It hurts bad. I hope I didn't break anything. I'm not sure how much more I can take."

  Phelan turned his head slightly, looking over Eron. "We've got some catching up to do. Can't sit here all day. Time is short. Come on, let's go," Phelan said.

  The boys cleaned the area to cover their tracks. Eron found another large stick to use as a staff, and off they went on their search for the boys. If they didn't find them, then at least they were headed in the right direction to finish.

  Several times they thought they'd spotted the boys, but each turned out to be a false alarm. Once it was a tree stump; another time, a bush. They'd crept up close to a form that turned out to be one of the Forgotten; a shorter one. They quietly backed away, not wanting to startle it. They watched it for a while before it scampered off into the forest.

  Eron moved well enough with the staff. His ankle was stiff at first, but it finally loosened and didn't send shocking bursts of pain through his leg. His ribs were another story. Twisting felt as if he was being stabbed by hundreds of tiny knives, which he discovered when he bent to pick up his staff. He cried out in pain. Phelan ran to him.

  "What is it? Did someone attack you?" he said.

  "No, just my ribs. It'll pass," Eron said. It took a moment before he could continue.

  Just after noon, they heard familiar laughter in the forest somewhere ahead of them. They dropped to the ground and slowly raised up, wary of being spotted. Eron stifled a scream of pain, but it was masked by the mocking laughter.

  "Stay here. I'll check it out," Phelan said.

  Hiding behind a bush, he watched as the boys toyed with a smaller boy.

  "Look at him! He's begging," said the red-haired boy.

  "Yeah! What a wimp," said the taller blond boy.

  "Laird, he's ready to die. Should we help him?" the red-haired boy said.

  Kumo leaned against a staff, his foot wrapped in cloth. He egged on his friends. "Come on, give it to him, Steen! He's ready to die. Look at the little boy. He's not ready to be a man. He'll never make it as a man."

  The red-haired boy, Steen, smacked the boy's mouth. His head jerked back, blood and spit spraying.

  "That's right, boy," Laird said, "you aren't a man. You don't deserve to make it through the Selection. Your mommy should've taught you better. What's your name?"

  "It's Connor. My name is Connor. I'm from Rippon. Please, don't hurt me. Don't kill me. I want to make it to the end." Kneeling before the three boys, Connor lowered his head and stretched his arms out. "I'm not a threat. I'll leave you guys be. Please, just let me go."

  Laird punched Connor in the eye, sending his head lolling to the side. Kumo swung his staff, narrowly catching Connor's stomach. Steen kicked at the ground, dirt clinging to the sweat on Connor's face.

  Phelan watched the boys, unaware that Eron had snuck up behind him.

  "Are those--hey, it's Connor!" he said, startling Phelan.

  "Be quiet! They'll hear you," Phelan whispered.

  "But I know him. That's Connor! He's from the colony. He's my friend. We've got to do something."

  Phelan raised his hand to his forehead. "I don't know Eron, maybe we should leave them alone. We’ve got ourselves to worry about. Are you really able to do something? Are you willing to act?"

  "We have to. He's my friend!"

  Phelan paused. "All right, I think we can help."

  CHAPTER 24

  "Listen, Eron, we've got to act fast. I can't have you wussing out on me. We may have to kill them. Can you do that?"

  Connor cried out as the boys poked him and smacked him around.

  "Yeah, I think I can," Eron said.

  "No, you have to be sure. Once we make our move, there's no turning back."

  "Please, don't hurt me! I'll help you. I'll do whatever you want," Connor said to the boys. The sound of his voice made Eron's heart drop. His friend was in trouble. He had to do something.

  "Yes, I'm positive, Phelan. I'm ready. I have to help him."

  "Ok, here's what we need to do. I'll get their attention so they leave him alone. When they get over here, swing your staff and hit them as hard as you can. Your ambush should distract them enough so I can attack with my knife. It might get bloody. Are you sure you can handle this?"

  Eron closed his eyes and lowered his head. He'd never attacked anyone before.

  "Please! Let me go. I won't do anything to you, I swear. I won't hurt you. I'll go back towards the colony if I have to. Please leave me alone," Connor begged.

  "I can handle it, Phelan. Let's do this," Eron said.

  Moving into position behind heavy cover, Eron clutched his staff with white knuckles. Phelan looked from him to the boys. With a deep breath, he stood.

  "Hey. Let him go. There's three of you picking on someone much smaller. Why don't you come over here?" Phelan said.

  "Who was that? Look, over there!" said the tall blond boy. Phelan stood waving his arms.

  "Are you stupid? Or weak? Or both? I can take all of you on by myself. Look at you, messing with that boy. He's weak! Cowards." Phelan's face turned purple as he provoked them.

  "I'll kill you myself! I don't need their help," Steen said, taking the bait. He raced towards Phelan, but they had not counted on only one of the boys coming after him. It was too late to change tactics.

  Steen charged through the brush directly at Phelan. As soon as he passed Eron, he swung his staff. Steen screamed when it struck his back. Blow after blow rained down on him, Eron’s anger fueling each swing. The sickening sound of bones crunching accompanied the loud smack of stick meeting flesh. Though his body hurt from the effort, Eron pushed through. Connor's life depended on it.

  "Eron!" Connor yelled, recognizing his friend.

  "Connor, we're here to help!"

  Phelan took off towards the remaining two boys as did Eron, though moving much slower. Phelan raised his knife. "Now, it's my turn!" he said as he charged.

  Laird smiled. Connor still on his knees in front of him, Laird calmly pulled a large black-handled knife from its sheath on his hip. Holding Connor's head with one hand, he slowly drew the knife across the boy's throat. Crimson blood flowed from his neck. Without a sound, Connor fell face down, staining the red ground a darker crimson.

  "No!" Eron yelled. Laird grinned at him. Kumo laughed.

  "Looks like you struck a nerve, Laird. And in that boy over there, too!" Both boys laughed.

  Eron struggled through the thick brush. Phelan approached the boys and stopped, holding his knife in front of him defensively.

  "You cowards! Fight me! Come at me!"

  "Look, Kumo, a blue face. I always heard they were bad luck. You can't trust them. I bet he kills that other boy back there. If we let him live. Which we won't," Laird said.

  Kumo and Laird flanked either side of Phelan. The boys poked at him, pushing him back.

  "What's wrong, blue face? Scared? I thought you people were tougher than this. You're weaker than I expected. I wonder if your blood flows red like his," Laird said, pointing his knife at Connor.

  "Why don't you shut up and find out?" Phelan said.

  "I'd love to," Laird said. Taking a step to the side, then back towards Phelan, Laird lunged. Phelan jumped to the side and swung his knife, missing the boy. Kumo stumbled towards him and swung his staff, catching Phelan's leg and tripping him. Phelan landed and rolled out of the way before another strike came. Laird swung his knife from side to side, almost striking Kumo in the process.

  "Hey, watch it, Laird! You almost got me!" Laird didn't reply. His face was frozen in a twisted sneer.

  Before he could strike Phelan, Eron beat back Kumo with his own staff. Wood crashed on wood as Eron pushed him back. Laird continued to swing his blade, seeking a soft target.

  "I'm gonna kill you all!" Laird said. "I fear no one!"

  Phelan ducked the wild blade and swept Laird's legs out from under him. He fell to the side but roll
ed back to his feet.

  "You'll need to do better than that, blue face!" Laird said. Phelan stood ready with his knife, waiting for the attack. But Laird remained still.

  Kumo tried to flank Eron. He was forced to step near Connor, and he dropped his gaze for a moment. Kumo swung his staff, thumping him in the back. Eron fell on top of Connor, and he put his hands out to catch himself, covering them in his dead friend's blood. Rage grew hot inside him. Jumping up, he slammed the other boy with his staff and crunched his fingers. Kumo cried in pain as Eron swung his staff again like he'd done with Steen. Kumo backed away, but his injury made it difficult to get too far from Eron's furious swing.

  The staff struck him in the face, the arms, his chest. Bones snapped and crunched. With all his rage behind it, Eron swung hard toward Kumo's head. A loud pop sounded and Kumo's eyes rolled back. He fell in a heap next to Connor.

  The final blow snapped Laird out of his trance.

  "Forget you, blue face! I'll get my revenge. I swear it!" Laird swung his blade, forcing Phelan back before running off into the forest.

  Eron's staff was covered in blood.

  "Connor," he said. "I'm so sorry." He dropped his staff and fell to his knees, crying.

  Phelan inspected Kumo. "Turn away, Eron."

  Phelan slid his knife in the base of Kumo's skull. The boy's body twitched, then stopped. Eron turned away as Phelan did the same to Steen.

  CHAPTER 25

  "We have to bury him," Eron said. Blood stained the ground around Connor, his lifeless body face down in the crimson pool. "We can't just leave him like this. He was my friend. He deserves better."

  Phelan was checking himself for wounds and looked out at the forest. "Don't think he'll come back anytime soon. If so, at least he's the only one left. We can take him by ourselves."

  Dropping to a knee next to Connor, Eron wept.

  "I should've done something for you. I'm so sorry this happened. I should've been there for you," he said. Phelan moved to his side and put his arm around Eron's shoulder.

  "It's all right, Eron. It was quick. Maybe he didn't have any pain. At least he doesn't have to deal with those idiots ever again."

  Phelan let Eron grieve, leaving him to be with the body. When he had composed himself, Eron approached his new friend.

  "Can we bury him now?"

  "I've been thinking about that. We don't have anything to dig with but we can cover him."

  Eron closed his eyes. "It'll have to do."

  The boys set out to gather rocks. It took some time, but they found enough to cover the body. They arranged the body and placed the stones on top. Eron squeezed Connor's hand one last time as they covered him.

  When they were finished, the boys stood a distance away. A tear rolled down Eron's cheek. "Goodbye, Connor. I'll never forget you." They rested nearby, Eron staring at the pile of stones in silence.

  Though in Eron's mind, it was anything but silent.

  It started soon after they covered him. Screams. Timo's screams. They were back and louder than ever. Eron wanted to tear at his skull to get the awful noise to stop. Soon, Mina's voice called to him, blocking the screams. Asking him if he was going to make it. Asking if he was ready to cross over and be a man. His mother's voice followed. She cried. She begged forgiveness for not training him properly for the Selection and apologized. And then, Connor's voice. He called out to Eron, accusing him of not being there to help. His voice had an unusual tinge of anger. Eron felt horrible as he listened to Connor's accusations, knowing he couldn't have done anything for him.

  Then his mind turned on him. What if we'd have taken the boys back at the cave? What if I attacked them earlier after Bello brought them towards me? I could've done something then. Connor would still be alive. His death is on me. I let them live. My unwillingness to do what needed to be done is what killed him. I can't be weak again. I won't be weak. I caused his death.

  By the time the sun rose, Eron made up his mind to never be weak again. Strength was the only thing to carry a boy into manhood. He expected to beat the Selection and to do so, he'd need to be strong. Weakness brought only death.

  "Phelan, we need to go," Eron said after daybreak. "I can't stay here any longer. We need to get to the end. I'm done with this."

  Phelan nodded.

  The boys travelled south to where the promise of a long and wonderful life waited for them. Eron wanted nothing more than to hold Mina in his arms and never let go. He'd be strong for her.

  For the next several days, the boys marched in relative quiet. Eron had no desire to speak and Phelan seemed to sense there was no use in trying to get him to open up. It was a welcome change for Eron not having Phelan constantly badger him with questions or small talk. Unless Phelan asked if he needed a break, not a word was spoken between the two. When they reached a large clearing in the forest where only tall grass grew, Phelan spoke up.

  "Hey, Eron, I know it's been tough on you. The Selection has always been about separating the boys from the men in a very real and cruel way. Fortunately for you, you're still here. You have a chance at an idyllic new life if we make it to the end. We're closer now. We have ten days left. This is the halfway point. We're that close! If we can just be careful, we'll have an easy second leg of the journey. Except for in the valley, but we'll see how bad it is when we get there."

  Eron turned to face him.

  "Connor deserved to see his way to the other side. What makes us different than him? Why do we get to continue? This entire process is messed up. Don't you think so, too? Who makes boys go through horrors like this, just to prove our worth as men? It's insane! None of it makes sense. Hasn't anyone ever questioned it?"

  "Rippon must be an odd place. We're taught the validity of the Selection at an early age. None of it seems odd. It's the way it is, because it has to be. Don't you understand?"

  "No! Not at all. We weren't taught any of the reasons why the Selection makes sense. None!"

  "Are you sure about that? You also said your colony had no name, but I clearly heard your friend mention Rippon before..." he paused. "Before he was killed."

  Eron thought back to the events of Connor's death. He'd been over them a hundred times or more looking for ways he could've saved him.

  "Yeah, he did say it," he said quietly. Phelan stared at him.

  "Then, are you sure you weren't taught all this stuff and forgot, or did you stop paying attention? Maybe you got hit in the head and it caused you to forget. Maybe there was some other trauma that removed everything about the Selection from your mind."

  Eron slammed his fists together. "I was not hit in the head! I know what I know, and the stupid Selection isn't part of it!"

  "All right, then; calm down. I'm just trying to help. Hey, why don't we make camp here for the night? It'll be dark by the time we get past this clearing. We can start fresh tomorrow."

  "Yeah, sure. I don't care."

  CHAPTER 26

  When they started across the clearing the next morning, Eron's mood had changed considerably.

  "Phelan, are we really that close?" Orangish stalks of thin grass waved back and forth, brushing their knees as they walked through the field.

  "Yeah. We're just about halfway there. From what I understand, this last half is different than the first. By now most of the other boys in here have been..." he hesitated.

  "Have been what?" Eron said.

  "I don't want to sound insensitive, that's all."

  "Go ahead, I'm fine. You were about to say most of the boys have been thinned out. They've been culled from the herd to make way for the stronger ones. Like us."

  Phelan nodded. "Something like that. Sorry. I know it sounds harsh, especially after Connor."

  "It is harsh. It has to be, right? That's the way of the Selection." His voice held a tinge of anger.

  A black figure raced across the clearing.

  "What was that?" Eron said. It was right in front of them before
they saw it, and disappeared just as quickly. He'd grabbed his staff and held it up, ready to defend.

  "I'm not sure. A Forgotten, maybe? I thought the clearing would give us a visual on anything trying to sneak up on us. Did you see where it came from or where it went?" Phelan said.

  "It showed up out of nowhere, then vanished. We should go that way," Eron said pointing left, opposite from where the figure went.

  About an hour later, another black figure streaked across the clearing in the same direction as the other had.

  "Did you see that?" Eron said. Phelan nodded.

  "Yeah. It's like the other one. Stay alert."

  The boys were quiet as they continued on. Scanning the clearing for any other surprises, they'd made it across the waving grass. By midday, they neared the other side. The trees offered welcome shade from the hot red sun.

  "Let's take a break here," Phelan said. There were berry bushes near the tree line. "We can eat these. They'll help us until we can find something more substantial."

  They picked almost all the berries off the bushes and devoured them with abandon. Bright yellow juice dripped down their chins.

  "Compared to grubs, these are spectacular!" Eron said. The berries were sour with a hint of sweetness. Phelan grinned, his teeth stained yellow from the juice.

  "They are pretty special. I haven't had any in a long time," Phelan said.

  As the boys gorged themselves, another black figure darted ahead of them in the forest. Eron almost choked on his mouthful of berries.

  "Phelan! Over there! I saw it again!" he said pointing into the forest.

  "The Forgotten? In there?" Phelan said. He'd been crushing the berries in his hands and licking the juice off his fingers.

  "Yes! I think we're being watched."

  Phelan cleaned his fingers and stared at the forest. "I don't see anything."

  "It was going that way," Eron said pointing out a path with his green-stained hands.

  "Do you think it's following us?" Phelan said.

  "I guess it's possible. Do you think it was the one we fought off before?" Eron said.