Nice Day to Die (2 page)

The iAm decides the rank of every sixteen-year-old in Faya.

I am standing before a Gatekeeper when a boy shoves me from behind. I lose balance, bump into the Gatekeeper and fall to the ground. The Gatekeeper makes sure I am all right, but I am angry about wrinkling the dress my father bought me for Ranking Day.

“Out of the way, Monster!” another boy snaps at me, as he walks
down the hallway.

“I am not a Monster,” I shout, still on the floor. “I will be a Seven.”

Every sixteen-year-old whose rank is below Five is called a Monster. Monsters are considered to be teen freaks and the society views them as a danger. The Summit believes that Monsters have nothing to offer the nation. Being called a Monster basically means you’re the black sheep, the scapegoat of society, or the humiliating scar that the nation wants to get rid of. In school, they teach us that the Bad Kidz, or Monsters, were the ones responsible for the apocalypse that ended the civilization before us. A civilization we call the Amerikaz. Teen Monsters are the greatest threat to Faya.

“At least you were bumped by a Nine. That’s good luck, Pixie,” a boy says to me.

I look up from the floor. It’s Timothy Rabbit, sneering at me with his scrubby, red hair, and childish face with freckles. He has all kinds of wires, headphones, and iAm plug-ins crawling out of his white shirt, which he wears under a loose red tie. Timmy is a computer hacker that is trying hard to fit in. He is a predicted Five.

“Don’t call me Pixie,” I say. “My name is Decca, pronounced like the second part of Rebecca.” I have to explain since everyone mispronounces my odd name.

“Okay. Okay,” Timmy grins. “Just making conversation.”

“Buzz off, Timmy.” Ariadna says as she lends me a hand. Faustina, standing next to Sam, calls me a dork again.

“I was just trying to help,” Timmy lies. “The dude called her a Monster.”

A number of students turn their heads and look at us when Timmy says the word Monster.

“The Monster has to die!” a couple of pre-Eights rant with smirks on their faces, showing a V-sign with their fingers. These are the exact words written on the t-shirt that Sam is wearing.

No one likes Monsters. Even though the boy who shoved me said the word, it is perceived differently when uttered by a pre-Five like Timmy who is one rank away from being a Monster himself. Everybody knows that Timmy is a kiss-ass. He would sell his own mother for a higher rank – which is the case with almost everyone else. A higher rank changes your life for the better. After he was arrested by the Summit for hacking the iAm system, Timmy was offered the chance to help them catch teens who escaped schools and homes after being labeled pre-Monsters. It was his only chance of escaping Monster status.

In Faya, teenagers who break the law don’t go to jail. They are given the rank of Monsters, which is far worse than jail. Monsters are punished by participating in our yearly human sacrifice called the Monster Show, where they must compete in deadly games on live TV.

If they survive, they get ranked. But the truth is that no one ever survives the Monster Show and they’re not meant to. We all know that. It’s a cleansing ritual ,disguised as a live show on TV, where people clap at the sight of blood.

A teacher, Madame Delacroix, calls for Faustina among others to attend her initial checkup in Classroom Z, a special room designed for the Ranking tests. Madame Delacroix is a Six. Most women who are Sixes become schoolteachers. Men who are Sixes become military soldiers. It’s obligatory. My father is a Six, but he is retired.

Even though Madame Delacroix looks lovely like your regular school teacher, she frightens the bejesus out of me. Madame Delacroix and Madame Dunbar both killed their children. Madame Dunbar sent her kids away to the Wastelands across the border last year, but we don’t know how Madame Delacroix killed her children. They did it because their kids were pre-Monsters. Parents get punished and downgraded if their kids become Monsters.

As Faustina walks gracefully toward the classroom, the boys and even some girls in the hall start to drool.

Faustina Flare, what can I say?

Faustina is a Teen-Gene, which is a set of serums, pills, and injections sold to rich parents who want to have Nine babies. Her parents bought her a Teen-Gene package before she was born. They are sold in the pharmacies, but are ridiculously expensive. If parents can afford it, a Teen-Gene is the easiest way for their children to be ranked as an Eight or Nine. Not that beauty is always ranked that high, but the Teen-Gene beauty doesn’t need brains with it. If I describe to you how curvy and sexy Faustina’s legs are, you’d think I was a boy infatuated with her.

“If only I were a Teen-Gene, I would have been a Nine, and I could travel the world,” Timmy says. Only Nines and Eights have a chance to travel abroad, but only if the Summit approves first.

“I doubt it would have worked on you.” I word-slap him back for not helping me when I was on the floor.

Nines have the best opportunities in society. They are celebrities in whatever they do, becoming actors, singers, athletes, and even high-caliber scientists.

Fives, Sixes, and Sevens envy the Nines, claiming Nines are mean, which is usually true. All but Ariadna. She is a sweetheart that is funny, and she loves me unconditionally.

We watch Faustina as she blows a kiss from her hand to Sam. He is our school’s best player at Crazeball, a violent game that I don’t like. I only watch it because Ariadna is a cheerleader. Sam tried to hit on Ariadna before, but she shut him down so he ended up calling her bad names. Thankfully, he never talks to me. I am virtually invisible to most boys in school anyway. Sam bullies students all the time, gets into fights, and harasses girls. The iAm ignores those kinds of things. Bullying doesn’t affect the results negatively.

Ah, yes, I forgot to tell you. The Teen-Gene package comes with the name of the baby on it, so Faustina is actually the name written on the box her parents purchased sixteen years ago. Faustina, the beautiful package, is all beauty and no brains. Ariadna is so right about referring to her as Barbie.

“Shame on you, Faustina,” Ariadna giggles. “Was Sam’s name written on your Teen-Gene box too?”

“Maybe the iAm matched him for her,” I suggest.

“Can’t be,” Ariadna explains. “You can’t get matched with a Teen-Gene. Only pure humans do. It’s called ‘Tattooed’, not ‘Matched’. And it rarely happens.”

“Do you think Faustina could make a Ten?” Timmy wonders, unable to take his eyes off her while she enters the class.

“No way. She’s dumb,” says Ariadna. “And you know that it’s not possible. There are no Tens.”

“Ten is a myth,” I back up Ariadna. The iAm has never ranked anyone a Ten before. Ever.

“It’s not a myth,” Timmy says. “It just hasn’t happened… yet.”

“Speaking of Tens,” says Ariadna, gazing over my shoulder. “Who is that hottie? I’d rank him a Ten myself. Hell, I’d trade my rank to have him!”

I turn around as a breeze of murmuring runs through the students. There are six soldiers walking toward us through the main door. We spread apart to make room for them. Why are there soldiers in school on Ranking Day?

They approach us while guarding some criminal. I can’t see who it is. I can only make out a silhouette of a person that is wearing a black leather jacket with silver pins. I rub my eyes carefully so I don’t mess up my makeup.

It’s a boy. He is held up by two soldiers who grip him tightly. The other four are escorting him. Are they protecting the boy, or protecting us from him?

The boy is being pulled by his arms because his hands are chained behind his back. His legs are also chained in such a way that he has to bend his knees. His jeans brush the ground with every step. I wonder why he looks so defeated. His thick, silky black hair dances down his forehead and covers his eyes. His haircut is rather unique in a wildish way, like musicians and magicians. His ears are pierced, and his arms are well-built with a tattoo on each side. One tattoo is a number nine, the one you get when you are ranked a Nine. The other one is a golden tiger-like figure. I don’t know what it means. I have never seen a golden tattoo before.

The boy is not fighting back. He is two strides away from me.

“Who is he?” whispers Ariadna in my ear, standing behind me.

I can’t take my eyes off the boy. I want to see his eyes. For some reason, I want to brush away the hair covering his eyes.

“That’s Leo,” Timmy explains. There is that look of mixed envy and fascination in his eyes. I think I know why he feels that way. The boy, who looks about three years older than us, looks like a celebrity, but is treated like a Monster. “He was a famous singer. He had that hit song three years ago if any of you remember it. It was called I Am Alive.”

“Really? That’s him? The boy who won the Burning Idol TV show when he was only Sixteen?” wonders Ariadna. “I loved that song. I was just too young to notice. He is hot.”

“That’s him,” nods Timmy. “He had just been ranked a Nine that year. I heard stories about girls ready to throw themselves off a bridge for this guy. You know how Faya worships celebrities.”

“So why is he chained?” I ask.

“
I am alive, I am a Bad Kid, I am a Monster, and I won’t back down
,” Ariadna hums the chorus to herself as if hypnotized.

Since I don’t remember the song, I pull out my iAm to search for it.

“Don’t bother searching for the song. It’s banned,” says Ariadna.

“Banned?” I ask.

“Do you actually live here on this planet?” Timmy wonders. “Yes. It is banned because he dedicated his song to the…” Timmy glances around suspiciously, and lowers his voice. “
Monsters
,” he almost whispers. “Leo Van Piearcy, a Nine, a celebrity at sixteen, who foolishly decided to rebel against the Summit with his song. Why did a guy like him oppose the Summit? He was unranked and exiled from Faya for the last four years. I wonder what brings him back.”

“I wonder,” I sigh.

The boy suddenly raises his head and looks at me.

My heart feels like a ball of fire stuck in my chest. Although it burns, I don’t want to let go of it. Leo is handsome, in a wicked sort of way. There are cuts and bruises under the tattoos on his arms, some healed, some recent. Since I still can’t see his eyes through his dangling hair, I am looking at his edgy jaw line. It’s as if it was drawn carefully by an ancient artist, fleshing out every detail and bone so magically and tentatively. Leo’s lips are sealed and tense, as if he is afraid to open them. The visible pressure spreads up to his reddened cheeks and tightened jaw.

The way he is wearing a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt with black leather pants and boots, makes him look like all he’s missing is a motorcycle. I can see how girls would fantasize about him and how boys would be angry and envious of him.

Unconsciously, I take a step forward, inching closer to him. What has gotten into me? I feel as if I’m possessed by him. He stares back pleadingly…

When a breeze brushes his hair off his eyes, I feel like I’m standing in front of a hurricane. The air seems to flow against my face. He has ocean-blue, beautiful eyes with a strange shade of honey-color in them, which you could easily mistake for teardrops at first sight. I’m dumbstruck. My hands feel numb, and I feel I am about to start sweating. Oh, no. I don’t want to do anything foolish. Why can’t I just stop looking at his eyes? Why is he looking at me? It’s all happening a bit too fast, and that unnerves me a little. I know I haven’t been around many boys in school since Ariadna was always the crowd magnet, but there is something striking about Leo.

I am silently mad at myself for being so vulnerable to his gaze. He still looks me in the eyes. I am almost glad he is chained because of the way he disarms me, but I can’t help feeling that he should be set free.

The tension is broken as the soldiers lead him away and lock him in one of the classrooms.