The Culling (23 page)

thirty-two

Everything’s a slow-motion blur. I bolt toward Gideon and his turret, ignoring the searing pain in my leg, the piercing shriek of the Squawkers overhead—nothing matters except the cold gleam on the barrel of the gun, blinding me. For a split second I can taste its metal, but it’s only the blood of my lower lip as my teeth sink through.

One second …

CLICK!

The sounds of the guns locking onto our movements are like gigantic tumblers shifting into place, crushing my brain …

Gideon’s a blur almost parallel to me …

Two seconds …

“DIVE!” I shriek at the top of my lungs, half expecting the blast of the gun to rip me apart before the word’s last echo fades into nothingness. I drop, slamming against the hard earth. The breath I’ve been holding bursts free. The flesh on my palms and cheek burns as my momentum slams me into the base of the gun placement …

BAM! BAM! BAM!

I shove my palms against the sides of my head, barely able to suppress the blasts ripping through my eardrums. Then the turret above me bursts apart in a flaming ball, singeing my hair and spraying the air with a geyser of smoldering shrapnel. I clamp an elbow over my eyes to shield them from the onslaught digging into my uniform and roll away from the impact.

My eyes risk a peek over my arm.

One by one, the gun turrets topple over in a haze of smoking, twisted metal until they’re all nothing but silent, steaming heaps, casting wispy trails up the hill.

Hot tears sting my eyes.

It
worked
.

I spring to my haunches, ignoring the pain. “Is everyone okay?”

“I-I-I think … so.” Cypress calls back. I can make out her silhouette through the smoke as she crawls to her knees.

“Looks like I’m still in one piece!” Ophelia shouts, hands waving from further down the slope. Despite the hard edge in her tone, I can almost hear the giggle hiding just beneath it.

Ahead, Gideon sits up, his face smudged with blood and dirt. His glasses hang askew on his nose. “Still breathing,” he mumbles, sounding more cursed than relieved.

But what about—?

I leap to my feet. “Digory!” My heart pistons up my throat. “Are you hurt?” I stumble down the slope, wiping my eyes against the wet haze obscuring everything.

Smudges of blood and dirt glisten through the sweat on his forehead, contrasting against his noticeably paler face. “Guess I banged myself up a bit.” He climbs to his feet and moves his hand to rub his injured shoulder, jerking it back as though he’s touched an electric fence.

“Careful!” I hold him steady, gently grazing his exposed shoulder with my palm.

He flinches, squeezing his eyes shut. “You think it’s broken?”

I shake my head, studying the angle of his shoulder. “Nope. Looks dislocated to me. We have to reset it.”

He shakes his head.“No time. Let’s go.” His hand grips my arm as he struggles to retain his balance. Another flash of pain on his face.

Touching his good shoulder, I hold him firmly in place and gaze right into his eyes. “I just want to look at it.”

“Okay.”

Digging my fingers into his shoulder, I yank on his hand.

Pop!

The snap echoes through the valley. Digory drops to his knees. “Son of a—!” His jaw flexes and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. Then he looks around at the fallen turrets, turns back to me, and winks. “You did
good.”

“We
all
did good.” Turning, I make eye contact with Gideon and give him a thumbs-up.

He nods and returns the gesture.

The entire valley thunders with the hum of the Squawkers’ engines.

They’ll be on us again any second …

“I’m not waiting around!” Ophelia dashes toward the wall.

The Squawkers are directly above. Tiny black shapes drop from their underbellies and zoom toward us, reminding me of the bees that stung Mrs. Juniper to death.

Cypress grabs my arm. “Run!”

Without bothering to answer, I haul Digory to his feet and motion to Gideon.

Then we’re all scrambling down the rest of the hill toward the wall.

KABLAM!

Another of the Squawkers’ bombs plows into the field behind us, striking with the force of a major earthquake, scattering us like paper dolls in a breeze. Waves of heat emanate from the fireball, shoving me forward with fiery hands.

Then the next bomb hits, and the next, rocking the ground with a deafening roar that transforms the entire field where we stood just a moment ago into a raging inferno.

A black cloud covers everything. I choke on the thick, pungent smoke, trying in vain to cough out the gritty intruders lodging in my lungs. I drop to the ground, gasping for air and only succeeding in inhaling more dark death, smothering me with each breath. My eyes water, and I can’t help but think how unfair this all is … how close we were … making it past the guns, just to suffocate … I lose focus … as if I’m drifting into a nightmare …

Digory latches onto my arm, rousing me from my stupor, pulling me through the smoke until I can glimpse the small scrap of sky. He half carries, half drags me from the smog. We stagger to the wall a few feet ahead. His strong hand is slapping my back over and over again. I alternate between gulping fresh air and hacking out ash.

My eyes regain focus.

Everyone’s crowded around us, staring up at the wall’s smooth surface. It must be almost thirty feet high, with no footholds or handholds in sight. Something glistens on its top surface, reflecting the deep oranges and reds of the blazing tongues that lick at our backs.

Bracing against the steel of Digory’s arm, I pull myself to my feet for a better look. There’s a metal ring embedded at the top of the wall. A metal ring attached to … is that what I think it is?

“Up there!” I shove a finger in the direction of the ring. “It looks like a rope ladder!”

More explosions rock the terrain behind us. The Squawkers fly past. I can already see the angle of their flight pattern arcing in the sky, preparing to zoom in for another run. With the blazing field behind us and the wall blocking the path ahead, we’re boxed in.

“What good is a rope going to do us up there?” Cypress shouts over the aircraft’s growing buzz. “If we could reach it, we wouldn’t need it!”

Ophelia sucks in her cheeks. “Looks like the Establishment has a sense of humor after all.”

Digory and I exchange glances. He shakes his head, probably thinking the same thing I am.

There’s no way out of this.

But that makes no sense. If the Establishment wanted to murder us outright, it could have done so at any time.

I glance above and then back at the others’ faces. “That rope
has
to be there for a reason. It’s a test, just like the gun turrets were. Somehow, someway, we
have
to reach it and pull ourselves over.”

“Maybe only one of us is meant to reach it.”

We all turn to look at Gideon. He takes off his glasses and wipes the sweat from his eyes, focusing on me.

“Gideon’s right,” I say. “We need to form a human ladder.” My eyes bounce from one to the other of them, estimating their different heights, adding them up and figuring the distance between the ground and the top of the wall.

Ophelia’s eyes roll. “That’ll
never
work!”

The hum of the circling Squawkers gets louder.

“Doesn’t look like we’ve got too many options. Let’s go.” Cypress holds out her uninjured hand to Gideon. “You coming?” She fixes a tender gaze on him.

He shrugs, and his eyes drop to the ground. But he takes her hand and slips his fingers through hers.

Digory’s staring above us. He squeezes his injured shoulder and winces, then turns to me, shame flooding his eyes. “I’m not sure how much weight I can take on this damn shoulder.”

I smile at him. “Don’t worry. I got you covered.”

“What order do we go in?” Cypress asks.

Ophelia steps forward. “I’m the lightest. I’ll go
first
—”

Digory bars her way. “Not a chance. The moment you get up there you’ll climb over without tossing us the rope and leave the rest of us behind.”

Her eyes become angled slits. “How surprisingly self-righteous of you, Tycho.” She circles him. “What’s to stop
you
”—her gaze burns through the group—“or
any
of you from doing the same thing?”

Gideon swats cinders away from his face. “She does have a point … ”

Cypress avoids eye contact with all of us.

I can’t blame any of them for having doubts, especially Gideon and Ophelia. They know better than the rest of us what’s at stake.

I clear my throat. “We don’t have time to debate this. The Squawkers will be here any second. Even though Digory’s the strongest, with his shoulder in the shape it’s in, he won’t be able to support any of our weight. So he’ll have to be the one to climb to the top—”

Digory shoots me a shocked look.

“But—” Ophelia interrupts.

“All of you, especially
you
, Ophelia, believe that Digory and I have each other’s back. Which is why we’re going to be on opposite ends of this task. He’ll be at the top of the wall, and I’ll be at the base of the ladder. If you truly believe we’re working
together
, then you must believe he’ll never go over the wall and leave me behind.”

For a few seconds, the only sounds are the steady crackling of the flames growing closer and the purr of the returning Squawkers, which soon becomes a steady growl.

“You’ve convinced me.” Cypress breaks our silence at last.

Gideon nods.

I back against the wall. “Ophelia, since you don’t trust me, you get to stand directly on
my
shoulders. Then Gideon, so he can lend Cypress a hand because of her injury. Cypress, you’re next, so you and Digory can help each other.”

Another burst of flame billows our way, narrowing the gap between us and the smooth stone.

Bracing myself against the wall, I hold out my hands to form a cup. “C’mon. Let’s move.”

Ophelia rushes over, slides her foot in between my hands, and hauls herself onto my shoulders. Gideon’s next, teetering slightly before settling on Ophelia’s shoulders. Then comes Cypress, who, despite her blood-soaked bandage, darts up me and Ophelia to perch on Gideon’s shoulders as easily as a mouse scurrying up a pipe.

I grip Ophelia’s ankles, trying to hold her steady against the tremors racking my body. It’s already too hazy to see more than a foot ahead of me. Heat bakes my skin. Every inch of me’s dripping. My mouth fills with the taste of acrid smoke
already clogging my straining lungs.

Digory pauses in front of me and touches my cheek. Unable to pull away, I can only stare at him, quenching my thirst in the blue waters of his eyes.

“See you on the other side,” he whispers. Then he steps into my hand and pushes up.

My knees buckle from the added weight, but I force my muscles to lock down despite the agony coursing through me.

The fire’s devouring everything in its path, eating away the field we came through, getting closer and closer until the searing heat ripples my vision as if I’m looking through a burning waterfall.

“Hurry,” Ophelia groans.

Every bone in my body creaks from trying to hold steady against the constant wobbling of Ophelia’s feet on my shoulders. I hear Digory reach the top and grip the end of the rope. Our teetering ladder lurches—

But Digory scrambles up and pulls himself on top of the wall. Free of his weight, our human chain holds steady.

“
Here!
” He tosses the ladder down.

Cypress grabs it and scampers up toward Digory, followed closely by Gideon and Ophelia. One after the other, Digory hauls them onto the ledge. I snake up the wooden planks until I’m standing at the top alongside them.

Below us, the fire’s reached the base of the wall, burning through the lower part of the ladder.

Above us, the Squawkers swoop in for the kill.

“Hurry!” I shout. “We have to get down the other side
now
!”

I grab the remainder of the rope and start to reel it back up the parapet. Then it’s burning through the flesh of my fingers and palms. I glance behind me at Digory and Gideon, their arms pistoning like the gears of a steam engine as they pull along with me until the ladder’s frayed ends reach the top. Cypress slams a foot down on the ladder, trapping it in place before it can skitter off the edge and over the other side.

“It’s not long enough anymore. It won’t reach the bottom.” The incoming craft nearly drown her words in a surge of roaring engines.

I peer down over the other side of the wall. A strong feeling of vertigo nearly overtakes me. My body teeters from the wave of dizziness and I have to grip Digory’s arm to steady myself. The distance seems much greater from this vantage point than it did from the ground looking up. Far below, a moat of dark sludge oozes against the wall’s base. At least it’s not a solid surface, though I shudder to think what could be lurking underneath.

Digory yanks the ladder free from under Cypress’s foot. “We only have to drop about ten feet or so. That muck down there should be able to break our fall.”

Explosions rock the terrain nearby. The wounded ground shudders as if in pain. There’s no more time.

“
Out of my way
.” Ophelia grabs the ladder and swings off the other side without looking back.

Digory flinches as the ropes go taut and tear into his skin, streaking it with glistening darkness. He stumbles and slides halfway over the edge before I grab his leg and drag him back to safety.

Below, Ophelia’s half swimming, half crawling through the mire toward solid ground, with a clear, unobstructed path to the finish line.