Grid Seekers (Grid Seekers Book One) (4 page)

“User S-434FH99U, David Brussel, male, aged fifty-three years,” Gordana said, as a picture of an older gentleman showed up in the next frame.

“User S-8375-BNMK990, Gregory Masters, male, aged thirty-eight years,” Gordana said.

“Who will join them?” Chet asked.

“User S-129HJFYU, James Branson, male, aged forty-eight years,” Gordana said.

“There you have it, folks, the participants representing Seattle are now in!” Chet said.

“Wow, those poor men,” my mother said.

“What about the girl? She’s in it too,” I said.

“Yeah, but she’s young. She has the stamina and youth to try to survive. These older guys don’t have that, and even though they might be a little smarter, it won’t help if they can’t run away from someone chasing after them. You always have the nuts inside who try to take people out,” my mother said.

The map exited Seattle before zooming in on Los Angeles, another four frames popping up.

“Gordana, will you please commence with the Los Angeles choices?” Chet asked.

“User L-WER777433, Jason Wilson, male, aged sixteen years,” Gordana said.

“User L-65890PPLKM, Angelina Jameson, female, aged twenty-two years,” Gordana said.

“User L-34577NMBV, Francesca Kaske, female, aged twenty-four years,” Gordana said.

“User L-RREWQ9974, Bridgette Berman, female, aged seventeen years,” Gordana said.

“I bet that guy is blushing right now. All those beautiful women and just him. What a dream come true!” Chet said, much to the delight of the crowd, who laughed at anything and everything he said.

Their faces looked so scared, their file pictures showcasing them as wide-eyed kids who didn’t belong in this kind of place. Sure, three of them were older than I was, but I only saw kids when I looked at them.

Gordana zoomed out of Los Angeles before going to Denver, a megacity filled with less young people than some of the other ones.

“Gordana, please proceed with the Denver picks,” Chet said.

“User D-98733KKLP, Kurt Wright, male, aged forty-four years,” Gordana said.

“User D-2309BNJUY, Julia Steiner, female, aged fifty years,” Gordana said.

“User D-23084NNMBV, Cassandra Adams, female, aged fifty-three years,” Gordana said.

“User D-HJFG8863, Daniel Rothmeyer, male, aged thirty-eight years,” Gordana said.

“I hope somebody gives them the senior rate inside,” Chet said, smiling.

Gordana zoomed out of Denver, going into Austin, which always seemed like the wildcard selection. They were definitely a large megacity by area, the people there seemingly more in touch with nature and their surroundings, more so than the people in the other cities, especially New York and Chicago. They were lucky to have a large walled-in area outside the normal city walls that let them walk freely amongst the wildlife.

“User A-YYUN9834, Gordana, please start with Austin,” Chet said.

“User A-POKK9952, Jamal Brown, male, aged thirty years,” Gordana said.

“User A-GNHU87110, Jessica Berman, female, aged sixteen years.”

“User A-NMBRT7758, Nigel Yancey, male, aged forty years.”

“User A-HNBIO99011, Peter Ho, male, aged twenty years.”

I didn’t know what to make of the Austin pick; all of them looked like random choices who had nothing in common. The girl, Jessica, looked a little like me, though smaller. I wasn’t sure how she’d fare in there, though I was sure Jamal and Nigel would do okay based on their appearance alone. Jamal looked bigger, maybe six feet tall, at least two hundred fifty pounds, like someone who could hold his own. I wished them the best.

“Thank you, Gordana. Now, could you please pick for Chicago?” Chet asked.

“User C-0129MNUI, Ivan Jannsen, male, aged twenty-nine years,” Gordana said.

“User C-FGHU889HJ8, Amy Peterson, female, aged forty years.”

“User C-FGHU0098IK, Katarina Jannsen, female, aged thirty years.”

“User C-VBFU883455, Tyson Bauer, male, aged forty-one years.”

“Wait, do I see that right? Is that a husband and wife in there, Gordana?” Chet asked.

“Yes, Chet, what you are seeing is correct,” Gordana said.

“Wow, folks, imagine that! He’ll be fighting for his life and he
still
won’t be able to get away from her nagging,” Chet said.

The crowd gasped, as if they couldn’t believe he’d just said that.

“Oh, I’m just kidding, folks. Lighten up! This is a fun occasion!” he said.

Fun occasion for who, him? This wasn’t a fun occasion for the people on the screen, all twenty of them, with their lives in the balance. It was likely that all of them would be spending the next three years in a prison camp doing who knows what.

“Gordana, would you please zoom in to our final city, our city, New York City?” Chet asked.

“Certainly, Chet, it would be my honor,” Gordana said.

My mother crossed her fingers, whispering under her breath, and I felt some butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t know why I had them; I knew nobody I knew would be chosen, though I wasn’t averse to my boss being picked up for it. I didn’t think that hard labor would be a bad sentence for him.

“Now, without further ado, Gordana, would you
please
commence with New York City?” Chet asked.

The letters and words scrambled on the screen, turning into a blur of motion, before Gordana spoke.

“User N-JKIU998210L, Jamie Green, female, aged thirty-two years.”

“User N-KLOP993278, Liam Jacobson, male, aged seventeen years.”

“User N-MNBV99345, Matthew Blanc, male, aged fifty-nine years.”

“And finally, Gordana, who is our last entrant into the competition?” Chet asked, his hand to his mouth.

“User N-9989NMBYR, Alexia Meyers, female, aged seventeen years.”

I froze, my mouth just slightly open. My stomach dropped and my ears started ringing. The sound of my mother sobbing and screaming seemed muted in the background, even though she was right next to me. I felt numb; my body felt cold. I couldn’t believe my name was called and I was chosen. How could this be? There were millions of people in this city, and I, a seventeen-year-old girl, was chosen from the mix.

“No! I won’t let them take you!” my mother screamed, grabbing me, bringing me back to life, as the ringing stopped and my mind woke back up.

I felt a tear run down my cheek as my mother buried the side of my head in her bosom and my sister jumped on top of me, both of them hysterical. I was still slightly numb, unable to sob, unable to scream, unable to even be mad. I was just…numb.

“Remember, folks, if you were chosen, no matter what megacity you’re in, you’ll be picked up in the morning by our esteemed regal guards to be transported to the training facility where you’ll start your preparations for the competition. For those watching at home who weren’t chosen, stay tuned, because in two weeks, the competition will start. You’ll get full twenty-four-seven access through your television, free, sponsored by WorldNet, so stay tuned!” Chet said.

The show ended, the final scene showing Chet on the stage. I felt myself start to breathe again, my mother beginning to run her fingers through my hair, her heartbeat beating loudly against my ear.

“You haven’t even said anything,” she said, sniffling, her eyes puffy and red.

“There’s nothing to say,” I said.

“I know you’ll win this. You have to win this. You have to do it for you, but for us, for all of us. If anyone is capable of winning this, it’s you,” she said.

I looked at her, feeling her breath tap against the stream of tears running down my cheek, seeing the look of pain and desperation in her eyes—in her face. I grabbed her hand, holding it tight. Saraia’s arms were around my neck, the side of her head against mine.

“I’ll try not to let you down,” I said.

Chapter Four

I woke
up the next morning completely unsure if I had ever even really fallen asleep. My life seemed like a dream, a nightmare, really, and I desperately wanted to wake up. My mother had sobbed all night, the large vein in her forehead pressing outward, her eyes completely bloodshot and puffy. I hadn’t seen her like this since my father died, and by the looks of things, you’d think I had died as well.

Saraia slept in my bed with me, clinging onto me for dear life, like she would never see me again. I knew she would, I knew things would get better, but when? How would my mother be able to take care of her without me here to help out? Just getting her to school was hard enough, since I already had to take her or pick her up multiple times per week because of my mother’s schedule. Being gone for three years wasn’t really an option for us, but it looked like it was going to have to be an option, because I didn’t see any other way.

“Is it morning?” Saraia asked, seeing the sunshine peeking through our dusty drapes.

“Yeah, it is,” I said.

“Oh,” she mumbled.

“I’m going to miss you,” I said.

“I’ll miss you too. I love you,” she said.

“And I love you, my sweet girl,” I said, kissing her forehead.

“How did you sleep?” my mother asked from the doorway, as she leaned against the dark wood frame.

“I didn’t, at least I don’t think I did. I think I closed my eyes but I definitely don’t feel well rested,” I said.

“Me neither. I wonder when they’ll be here,” she said.

“Probably soon. What time is it?” I asked.

“Almost seven. You should get ready,” she said.

She seemed lifeless, like her soul had been sucked out of her body, her eyes as lifeless and gray as a statue’s. Her face looked barren, her expression devoid of any life or exuberance whatsoever. It hurt me.

It took some prying, but I was able to get up, and Saraia finally let go of me. I felt the cold wood floor against my pale bare feet, my toes curling up, before I got up and picked out some clothes from our dresser, nicer ones, just in case there would be cameras, which there usually were. I remembered one year, three years ago I thought, when I was home and watched the morning festivities, if you could even call them that. Camera feeds from around the country caught the participants coming out of their homes, the guards with them, the crew bombarding them with flashes and just overall annoyance. I guessed that was going to be me soon. Maybe some girl in another megacity would see me on her screen, and maybe, just maybe, she would be chosen one day. I hoped not, for her sake at least.

It was soon eight in the morning. I was as ready as I could be. I clasped my bracelet around my left wrist, like I did every other morning, this one no exception.

“Are you sure you want to take that? What if you lose it?” my mother asked.

“I need to have it. I need to have a piece of home with me while I’m away. Besides, it’s my good-luck charm. Grandma said so,” I said.

“Okay, then. If it makes you feel better, then take it. Just don’t lose it,” she said.

“I won’t. I couldn’t,” I said, touching it.

There was a knock at the door. The guard yelled that I had three minutes before I had to come out and that I should say my goodbyes now. My eyes welled up, my lungs filling completely before letting go of all of my precious air, sending shivers up and down my spine. This was it. I was leaving…for real.

My mother cried, though not heavily like she did after my name was called, now giving off the first inkling of real emotion since last night. I hugged her, tightly, her arms tightening around me with such strength that I was sure I would bruise a rib.

“I love you,” she whispered into my ear.

“I love you, too,” I whispered back, closing my eyes.

She let go of me, putting her hands on my shoulders, and gazed into my eyes before looking at me up and down, biting her lower lip, trying to hold back the floodgates of tears that I knew were building up, about to break the dam that was holding them back.

As soon as my mother let go of me, Saraia grabbed onto me, her head in my chest, sniffling frequently as I wrapped my arms around her, savoring my last remaining seconds with her. She’d be a young woman by the time I got back, almost grown, and I would miss it all. I didn’t feel as though I was as mad about doing the competition as I was about that.

“Hey,” I said.

She looked up at me, tears running down her cheeks, as she sniffled again, her arms still tightly around me, like she was trying to keep me from leaving.

“I’ll be back soon…I promise. Promise me you’ll keep trying your hardest in school until I get back?” I asked.

“I promise,” she said, sniffling again.

“I love you…more than you know,” I said, as I kept back my tears, trying to stay strong for her.

“I love you too…” she said.

My mother put her hands on Saraia’s shoulders and she backed away before I wiped my palms against my skirt, took in a deep breath, and walked towards the door.

“Don’t open the door once I close it. I don’t want them to take you two down with me. Okay?” I asked.

“But Alexia,” my mother said.

“Promise me,” I said, interrupting her.

“Fine, I promise,” she said a few seconds later, staying back.

Without saying another word I opened the door just enough for me to get out, quickly closing it behind me, as the quick, bright flashes of the cameras blinded me, making me squint. I saw two guards down at the foot of our steps.

“Ms. Meyers, what is it like to be chosen?” one reporter asked.

“Will you try to win for your family?” another asked.

“Is there a special man in your life you’re fighting for?” another asked.

“Please come with us,” a guard said.

I walked down the steps, the guards forming a wall around me, as they escorted me into a vehicle to take me wherever it was the participants were held.

I got in the vehicle, the doors quickly closing, the tinted windows inside muting the flashes of the cameras as I looked up to the front window of our apartment, not seeing my mother or Saraia there, the drapes closed, just like I wanted. At least there was one thing I could control, and that was the media exploiting them.

•••

Twenty minutes later, at least I thought it had taken that long, I arrived at a large building just outside of town. I had never been outside the walls that blocked everyone inside, but this place wasn’t exactly out in the open, either. There were walls around it, though a different sort of walls than the ones around the city. They were probably fifteen feet tall, gray, and slightly weathered.

We pulled into a large open space inside the building, what seemed like a loading dock, before stopping in a line behind two other vehicles, both of which just sat there in front us.

“What are we doing?” I asked.

“Just sit still, miss. We are waiting for the signal to unload,” the guard driving said.

I sat back, tapping my fingers against my thigh, as I nervously looked out the window, looking for something, anything, to give me any clue as to what was going on. I was terrified of getting out, like I was almost marching to my death sentence, even though I knew I would ultimately be fine. We had to survive in there to even have a chance at winning, but being eliminated, whether through dying or not finishing the competition, wouldn’t have any effect on our physical bodies. The only true punishment was having to go to the labor camp. It was only three years…how hard could that be?

“Okay, we can get out,” the guard said, abruptly ending my thought.

The guard in the driver’s seat got out, walking to my door and opening it up for me. There were no handles on the inside for me to open it myself, which I guess was a good security feature when you were picking up people to take them to this kind of thing. I got out of the vehicle, stepping firmly onto the polished concrete floor, before looking to my right, seeing two other people getting out of their vehicles as well. They were two of the other people from my city who were selected. I recognized them from their pictures on television, Jamie and Matthew. I gave them a sort of a smile, though it probably came out like a deflated balloon instead of something friendly. They returned the favor, none of us exactly thrilled to meet one another, though I was sure they were nice people.

The doors of the dock opened and another vehicle pulled up right behind ours, and the guards got out and opened the side door, a pair of feet planting onto the concrete as the person stood up. It was Liam, the final guy from our draw. He was at least six feet tall, his hair swept upwards, a slightly mahogany shade of brown, his light olive skin clear and soft. He was handsome, and just like staring into the sun, I stared too long, and he quickly looked over at me, our eyes locking, before he flashed a small smile that had far more life in it than the one I’d given the other guys.

“Good morning, and welcome to your home for the next two weeks,” a man said, grabbing my attention.

He looked to be in his mid-thirties, average height. He took long strides as he walked, like some kind of giant bird. His skin was dark, tanned, and his shaved hair was so blond it was almost white. He wore an all black suit, his tie the only thing standing out, as it was rather shiny, and his shoes clanked against the polished concrete floor.

“This is the place where we keep, sustain, and manage WorldNet, who are the sponsors of the competition and the place where you will be facing one another inside the grid itself. My name is Christian, and I will be your managing director of operations. If you need anything, even a single cracker to fill your empty tummies, I’m the man you need to see. All of the other competitors are already here, their jets got in just an hour ago. So if you’d all follow me, we’ll get you all checked in,” Christian said.

We all walked forward across the expansive loading dock, following behind Christian, as all of the guards from the vehicles walked beside us, as if they were preventing us from getting away somehow, though I wasn’t sure how we would. I didn’t think I was exactly capable of scaling a fifteen-foot wall and jumping into the river.

Christian scanned a key card and his fingerprint onto a scanner, the light turning green before the hulking metal doors opened, creaking a little as they moved. We all walked through, Christian strutting ahead, a digiboard in the crook of his elbow as it glimmered with a bunch of to do lists.

“And here we are,” Christian said, as we stood in front of another hulking door, this one with a man in a white suit sitting outside of it behind a desk, a scanner larger than the one I used in the café sitting atop the ledge.

“Please come forward one at a time so I can get you checked in,” the man said.

Jamie walked up first, the worker behind the counter grabbing her wrist and placing her right hand against the scanner. It turned green before spitting out a purple bracelet. The man clasped it around her hand.

Matthew was next. His band was also purple, which I was sensing was a theme here.

I walked up, flashing a nervous smile at the man as he looked at me with a straight face, clearly not amused with me or just in a horrendous mood, I wasn’t sure which was better. He placed my hand against the scanner; it turned green just like it did for everyone else, and another purple bracelet came out. The man clasped it on my wrist and I felt it click and lock.

I moved to the side so Liam could go, touching the bracelet. It was slightly hard, and there was a shiny silver holographic New York City etched into the top of the material. It looked like this was their way of telling us apart and seeing who was from what megacity.

“Okay, now we’re going to go and group you up with the other participants. If you watched the drawing last night, and I’m guessing you all did, you’ll recognize some familiar faces, though don’t get too chummy with them. You’re still competitors first. If you should get comfortable with anyone here, it should be each other, even though you’ll be competing against two of the people currently around you. Anyway, on we go,” Christian said, scanning his key card and handprint.

The hulking metal doors opened, a red light flashing on either side, and the bottom of the door made a scraping, screeching sound, making me wince. We walked through a series of hallways, guards completely enclosing us in, as Christian walked briskly ahead with his right arm slightly out, his digiboard cocked in place, with a certain ever-present flair.

Two automated doors opened and we walked into a large, open room decorated with shiny white tiles and a massive video wall against the far side of the room, where the other participants were all sitting on couches, separated by city.

“There they are! Finally!” a man said from my left.

I looked over, seeing Chet walking towards us, a camera crew following behind him, as he smiled from ear to ear and held a gold microphone in his hand.

“Are we ready to roll?” Chet asked a cameraman.

The cameraman nodded. I looked at my group members with a confused look, and before I knew it, Chet started talking.

“I’m here today with the final group of participants to enter the fray, so to speak. We have here the participants from New York, four bright people, all of whom are vying for a chance at their one wish,” Chet said, turning around.