elimination

I lie shivering in bed on my back covered by a thin blanket and engulfed in a cloud of my own dread and apprehension. For a second I simply lie there sucking up a meager amount of warmth before an ugly buzzing sound penetrates my skull, forcing me out of bed and into a cold, unforgiving shower. This morning a notification on my wrist port has called me to the Practical Training room first thing. As I stand shivering in the shower I catch my reflection in the shiny metal knob that turns the water on and quickly avert my gaze. Once questions would have been racing through my mind. Now it is blank. Only two words float around my brain in a childlike voice: tired and cold, tired and cold. I dress quickly catching my gaze in the mirror. I quickly turn my head and head out the door. Lactic acid licks at weary muscles as my feet slap the tundra.

I slowly open the door to the Practical Training room to find all of my fellow Titles are there already. I realize with a start that there are only eight of us left. Eight out of how many remain? 300? 500? I shiver. I stand between 12 and 14, head down, teeth chattering. Doomsday and Toady walk into the room with sour faces. They have no props today, save a small black bag in Doomsday’s right hand. I expect her to launch into a long speech ending with something about the greater purpose. Instead she says one word. “Come.” We follow her down the hall and outside.

She points to a tiny black spot on the horizon and says “run.” So we do, as fast as our legs will carry us. Something about the air is different. We regard each other like stringy pieces of meat that we don’t necessarily want to eat, but will if given starvation as our only other option. Finally we arrive at the black dot with panting tongues and freezing sweat. Somehow Doomsday and Toady are already there. It turns out that the black dot was a rectangular metal surface built into the ground. It’s about 2 meters by 2 meters with a tiny straight groove going down the middle.

We are told to stand in rows facing the rectangle. It’s nice to be able to choose who you stand next to for once. I stand between 14 and 12 in the back row. Switch stands next to 12. In the front row are Titles 61, 102, 73, and 50 respectively. Doomsday clears her throat. “The following task is a lesson in obedience and logical prioritization of values, both integral skills to fulfilling the greater purpose.” With this she pulls a small black gun out of her bag. It’s a shiny evil looking thing that glitters in the sunlight. It’s archaic, technology at its most outdated.

She puts five bullets in it and places it on one side of the groove that cuts across the black rectangle. On the other side she places an identical gun with another five bullets. Doomsday clears her throat. “Kill your partner before they kill you. You are to work with the Title to your right.” I look over to my right to see 14 staring straight ahead, fists and jaw clenched. He emits coldness. I hold my breath as 61 and 102 go up to stand on either side of the black box. They pick up their guns and cock them, pointing them at each other’s heads. They look into each others eyes for a moment. A second later I hear the gunshot and 102 hits the ground with a skull cracking smack, a bullet in her brain. Then to everyone’s utter shock the black rectangle opens up at the groove and the ground swallows her up.

The rectangle slides back together within seconds with a metallic click. The blood has been cleared from where she stood on the right side. 61 goes over to stand next to Doomsday. We regard him with hunger coursing through our veins. By the time 73 and 50 take their places they both have kill in their eyes, Doomsday barely gives them the signal to begin before they both pull the trigger. 73 is narrowly saved by jumping to the right 50′s bullet whizzes by. 50 falls to the ground and gets swallowed up by the black hole.

I walk up to my place in slow motion. Cold air caresses my lungs. I can hear Bump Nose’s voice in my ears: the last generation, make things better. I look into 14′s eyes. He has beautiful green eyes. Doomsday gives the signal. He cocks his gun. I pull the trigger. The bullet lodges itself between his eyes as he falls. Brain matter and blood adorn the ground.

I look down at his lifeless, wide open eyes. The ground swallows him up leaving a spotless metal surface. He has beautiful green eyes. Had. Something inside me begins to quiver.

Doomsday nods with approval, she gestures for me to come to her. I comply. As I step off the platform my foot hits a chunk of ice and I begin to slip. I hit the ground with a loud smack. No one tries to catch me. I lie there for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest, before slowly rising to my feet. I speak quietly, my voice like foam-soaked silk. “So you want me to shoot someone?” I hold up my gun up and cock it. All eyes are on me. I speak again, this time so they can hear me. “So you want me to shoot someone? They are all frozen. A tiny bead of foam trickles down my chin. Doomsday begins to speak, “Now Seven...” I pull the trigger. She falls. I pull the trigger again and Toady falls followed by 61 and then 73. I turn around. Switch and 12 are the only two left. There is a look in 12′s eyes, an indescribable look in 12′s eyes. Why is she staring at me like that? I feel something bite me in the chest and I stagger forward. A bullet? Switch holds the other gun. I look down at my gun. It was pointed at 12′s head. I drop it and I run.

I set off across the tundra as fast as I can. Blood soaks my chest, but somehow I continue to move. I don’t know what direction I am going. I don’t know whether I am running after something or away from something All I know is my heartbeat. It pounds in my chest ever louder ever faster. I can’t take it. I can’t take the noise. I think that’s why I run. I run to hear the quiet.

I look up to see that I have run straight into the wall of a station. I read the sign. Station 14. I stick my left foot in one of the grooves in the wall and my weight holds. I reach my right hand up to grab another one of the grooves. I repeat until I am sitting on the roof. I try to catch my breath, but it’s hard to breathe. I can feel my heartbeat slowing as the cold sets in. I lie on my back and let my hands fall outstretched on either side of me. My palms up, my frozen fingers crinkle inward. My breath is shallow and with every exhale I can feel the warmth leaving me.

It occurs to me that I failed Bump Nose. I could have saved thousands of future Titles from suffering, but I didn’t. I look up at the grey sky. The sun is setting. I’ve always wanted to see a sunset. I peel my eyes against the ascent of darkness and search for the colors I have imagined. But I can’t really see them through the grey. They must be over on the other side of all the ash and dust.