Page 5 of Failed State

Thad chuckles and I hear the sound of him opening the nutrient shake shit they give us. I feel like it’s also part of why supes have stayed so weak—poor diet and the unidentifiable supplements we’re forced to take or go without food and drink. “You’re practically a nun, Syd.”

Lowering my book, I press my lips together then respond. “Thad, nuns are human shit, and choosing celibacy doesn’t make me a religious zealot. It means I’m exercising what little right to my own body I have left because I’m focused on getting the fuck out of this hellhole.”

“But if you didn’t, you might be in a better mood occasionally,” Huck says with a grin. “A little meaningless release is good for the soul—or lack thereof.”

Dudes are the same no matter what species and it’s almost comical.

“No thanks. The FSHA gives us enough drugs I don’t trust; why add their form of birth control that’s probably secretly sterilization to the list? It’s not like Iwantkids, but I sure as fuck refuse to let them take that choice, too,” I mutter quietly.

They both frown and I cut my gaze to a blinking light just outside of our table area. There’s a Confession Enforcement Drone flittering about and I don’t want to be caught explaining further. Huck growls and mumbles something about six shooters and Thad leans back in his chair with a dark look on his face. Their bad boy looks paired with our loner status means girls actively look for them for a good time, while my bristly exterior brands me a ‘challenge’ for assholes to conquer.

“I refuse to be someone’s high score,” I say a bit louder so if the drone is close enough it will hear. “Guys can keep their fucking conquest lists to themselves in my opinion.”

“Aw, sweet pea, that will disappoint nearly everyone I know.” Huck tsks, then looks around the room for someone to feed off of. His eyes turn to slits when he locates a suitable target and I go back to reading and ignoring Thad.

After all, he earned this.

The period’s nearly over when the huge speakers on the walls crackle and I put my book down, lacing my fingers on the table as the screen comes down from the ceiling. Everyone knows that sound means we’re going to be forced to watch a video either from the administration here or from the government officials at some level. We’re taught to sit straight, look up and have our hands where they can be seen every time and punishment for fucking around during their indoctrination bullshit is severe.

“Good afternoon, students of the Federated Human States of America’s Supernatural Sector Academies.”

I have to strain not to roll my eyes at Taterman’s sheer laziness. He does absolutely fucking nothing in that gilded mansion in the capital, but he couldn’t be arsed to record a few different takes for the academy names so it was almost like he gave a shit. Nope, that Spraygolf Pissler wanna-be has recorded one of these announcements for the entire nation and we’re probably all watching it.

“Sincethe glorious victory overthe virus is now fully in effect, and we have gathered those responsible for its spread in your new homes, your government has been working hard to find more ways for you to show your gratitude to your nation.”

“Oh, yeah, we’re so excited to be in prison camps where you try to brainwash us,” Thad mumbles and I give him alook. That damn drone is here for a reason, and I might be mad now but if they kill him, I’ll be inconsolable.

“I am so pleased to announce that classes in the university-level academies will be altered for the next three months as we prepare our amazing students for the opportunity of a lifetime. “

The jackass pauses and if you look closely, you can see the evil in his piggish eyes. I shiver, but I don’t avert my gaze. I’m not afraid ofhim, only the power he wields like a goddamn guillotine.

“In three months, students from ages nineteen to twenty-three will have the honor of competing in the first annual Supernatural United Challenge of Endurance!”

No one speaks; hell, I don’t know if anyone is even breathing in the cafeteria. Taterman is still smirking at the camera, the lights in his office glinting off his veneers coated in Vaseline. Finally, he shuffles what are likely blank papers on his desk and winks.

The motherfucker who killed ten million supes in two years just winked at their survivors.

My hand tightens around the spoon I was eating with as if I could stab someone with it, and if I could I sure as hell would. The souls of the lost relatives and friends in our world are screaming for justice, but this asshole is pretending to be a fucking character from the goddamnHunger Games. I just… I can’t, but I can’t move or they’ll put me in the isolation area.

“The Challenge will be fraught with danger, but never fear my loyal citizens, for the entire world will be able to subscribe to the live video feed from every academy as your competitors level up through their sectors towards the main event. The final challenge will include one team of six that are the champions of their home school battling it out for the prize.”

“That son of a bitch thinks the sun comes up just for him to crow,” Huck grits out. “He’s picturin’ himself as a fuckin’ Roman emperor, guaranteed.”

I don’t respond. The amount of shock and resignation flowing through me is making it hard for me to formulate an answer.

“You’re likely wondering what the winners of this globally watched battle of ferocity will receive? My personal Cabinet and the very auspicious members of your governing bodies have worked long and hard on that answer. There will be a small, modest town constructed in the Southern part of what was previously California where the winners will live in comfort with non-menial jobs. They will be allowed to bring their immediate families and will not be required to stay in the sectors or supernatural only areas.”

My eyes widen and I almost stop staring at the screen. The gasps around the room tell me Taterman achieved what he set out to: instant obsession. No one will fight the entry to thesestupid games or challenges now that they’ve heard what the prize is.

Of course, they’re forgetting these are the same people whosworethey would never use supe status to deny us anything.

That went away the moment they realized they could put the blame on supes for the man-made bullshit they lost track of and started killing off half the planet. Supes were a perfect scapegoat because human media has been predicting the takeover of their feeble race by ‘others’ in every format for centuries. The dumbasses Taterman courted simply stopped evolving in the 1950s, and they liked having someone who agreed with their bigotry.

“Syd, say something,” Thad whispers. “You look ready to keel over.”

I shrug, unable to force sound from my mouth. There’s simply no way they will allow anyone who is able bodied to refuse to participate and I have a feeling you’re only out when you’re maimed or dead. This is the new version of the Infected Being Sweeps, and people all over the world are going to pay those wrinkled old dickbags for the privilege of watching us kill one another.

Huck kicks my foot with his booted one, his dark eyes glittering with concern. “Syd, you’re makin’ us worry, darlin’.”

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