Page 16 of Starside

The sun is relentless. By the time day turns to night, my cheeks are pink, the top of my nose burned. Kira’s freckled skin is tanner and deep red at the shoulders. For once, I’m grateful for all my fabrics.

All I want to do is sleep, but just as I consider it again, a yell cuts through the darkness. Then, our cart jerks to the side as one of the wheels runs something over.

A body.

Another one.

Another.

I swallow, a chill rippling through my blood. The Culling hasn’t started, but under the cover of night, it’s hard to know if someone fell … or was pushed.

I keep my eyes open, and my sword gripped tightly. Kira and Zane seem nice enough, but we all want one of those fifty spots. I can’t trust anyone.

Time crawls forward, until finally, night bleeds into day.

A screech peels through the morning. I look up and see a flash of silver. The hawk. A moment later, the Watchman comes riding along the carts with his horse. We know what that means. Another break. “Everyone up,” he yells.

The carts park at the edge of a forest, and I stare up at the trees in awe. It’s not the woods of the painting in the ruins. There’s hardly any green at all. It’s mostly dirt, and twisted branches, and tiny, prickling leaves. But I haven’t seen anything like it in years.

A few people dart farther inside the trees to take advantage of the relative privacy. I stretch my cramped legs, fingers trailing along the bark, looking around in wonder.

There’s a stream trickling nearby. A few challengers run toward it with their pouches. I stay in place and roll my neck.

Stellan’s trips to the king never took more than three days total, which means we’re close. The king will likely feed us before the Culling starts. No use in taking a chance on water that could very well make me sick.

Kira takes a step toward the spring, and my arm juts out. I don’t even know why I do it. Her death would only help me. Friends are liabilities.

Still, I say, “I wouldn’t.”

“But I’m out.” She lifts her pouch.

Zane steps next to me. He stretches his neck with a satisfying crack. “I once knew someone who drank from a bad spring and shit himself to death.”

Slowly, she tucks her pouch back into her bag. “Okay, then. How much longer, do you think?”

“Half a day. Maybe less,” I say.

Kira’s shoulders slump forward in relief. “Good. I can’t take another moment sitting in that cart. I have about a dozen splinters in my ass.”

That almost makes me smile as we walk toward the Watchman, silver hawk now perched on his arm.

Instead, I freeze.

The carts are gone. Murmuring starts to spread through the challengers like wildfire.

Only when all of us have emerged from the forest does he speak. “There are two hundred and sixteen of you here.” The number sends a chill through my blood. Ten challengers were killed on the road. “And there are only a hundred and fifty horses.” I turn and squint. There they are, at the top of a distant hill just beyond the forest, saddled and standing in a line.

“The Culling starts now,” the Watchman says.

And all hell breaks loose.

4

Run.

If I can run and get onto a horse, I’ll have a third of a chance at making it into Starside. I could actually do this.

I’m not the only one with that idea.