Igazi (excerpt)
27
6:00 AM, 28th June, 2116
And Kuwafa was never to be seen again.
Or was he?
THE END?
1
6:00 AM, 20th June, 2116
I woke up frightened. I just had a dream about me being face to face with Kuwafa, the most evil soul that ever walked the universe. Standing in the middle of the street, on top of the gushing and splashing water, was Kuwafa, with his facial features so contorted, with a smile so evil as never seen before, staring with his unforgiving eyes’ piercing gaze at me, taking revenge just by staring at me. The only thing I could say for the next 10 minutes was “He’s back”
‘No, it can’t be…’ I said, fear engulfing me like a bog in the jungle. ‘This can’t be true’, I said. I always had a fear of bad dreams, because one of them had come true. The mishap had occurred when I was 11. I had a dream that the next day, a man in our neighborhood would be hanged to death for sitting on the road. Yes, this came true. It could only come true in a place like Stentoria, where people were tortured for paying 20 Stents instead of the due 19 to the shopkeeper and hanged to death for parking in a no-parking zone…
What I had just seen was blowing the wits out of me. Today was my 12th birthday, when I had envisioned that I would be selected to be the next participant of the Igazi. The Igazi was an annual event, almost as competitive as the Olympics, which used to take place a 100 years ago. The last ones happened in 2016, in which a country named U.S.A had had the highest tally of medals.
Now, we live in a country called Stentoria, which stands on the ground on which once upon a time, an island called Atlantis used to stand. Here, every year, an event called the Igazi is held. It consists of participants from all the zones in the country, locked up in a horrible place they don’t know, and are tested for survival skills in conditions extreme to the extreme extent.
I woke up. It was the Day of the Selection. I was so terrified about the dream that I almost forgot to fill up my bag for school (as it was called a hundred years ago. Now, it was known as Preparation Organization). When I finally did, my dog, Czar, just barked, his signal to give me a reminder to come back early from PO for the Selection. The selection was held in the Town Square. The Selection was a compulsory event for everyone in the zone to attend, and those who didn’t, well, God Forbid.
*
I came back from the PO early. Well, not just me, everyone in PO was sent home early. As soon as I reached home, I dressed up in a casuals, being sure of my safety. I still had memories of my mom. I was an orphan, but I could almost hear her as she said “Oh, look at you, my sweetie, cuddly little darling… I wish you all the very best for the Igazi Selection.” Okay. To be true, I felt that my mother was with me. But now I was too busy with remembering my trapdoor number.
For the Igazi selections, all the people in the age group of 14 to 50 had to stand in rows of 100, and out of each row, there was one, and only one, the unlucky one, who was to be selected. The worst, you couldn’t volunteer for someone else. People had lost their loved once in seconds, and had seen their horrible deaths. A grid of a 100 rows and 5 was made in the middle of the country, and each person had to stand on a block, which was actually a trapdoor. As soon as the machine-government’s machine operated announcement started, the numbers of the trapdoors were announced. Those who were unlucky, in they fell, year after year, into their fates. Moreover, those who died were buried right at the spot of their death, in the warzone of the Igazi. A competition between the 5 unlucky people, and well, there hardly was any year when one person won. It was far from seldom for there to emerge no winner, all being killed.
I had been very fascinated by the way machines operated, and had always known that there was some pattern to everything. I had at last been able to deduce the pattern of the trapdoors, over the years. And now, I stood on the trapdoor which was not a sequence of the pattern. And I was confident enough.
There came the clanking of machinery and the announcement started. I was standing in the fifth row, trapdoor number 17 in it. Each row’s trapdoor number was being called out. “Row one, trapdoor 95” In fell the Man, aged around 35, strongly built, and aggression convulsing his face. But wait. I had expected no. 19, but this was 5 times what I expected! Wait. Did my calculations go wrong? No. It can’t possibly be. I had spent days and days and days for this? No.
But then I relaxed. If all the numbers would be 5 times what I thought, I couldn’t possibly be chosen, because 17 doesn’t appear when you count by fives, does it? A huge sigh of relief escaped my mouth. “Row two, trapdoor 74” What? My mind was going haywire. I couldn’t understand anything. I didn’t see the woman, around 20 years of age, hefty enough to be equal the volumes of three mes, fall down into who knew what terrible fate. But I went calm once again, as I thought about my odds of being selected. One in a hundred said I to myself. “Row three, trapdoor 54” I had always been good at patterns at the PO. And now I knew it. A hand colder than an iceberg clasped my heart. Starting with row 5, trapdoor 17, they kept adding 18, and then 19, and 20, and finally 21 to the resultant, the answers being 17, 35, 54, 74 and 95, from row 5 to row 1. And I was standing on trapdoor 17, row 5. No. This can’t be happening. “Row four, trapdoor 35” I panicked as my fate approached me like a predator approaching its prey which it has cornered. My head felt heavy, my knees buckled under my weight. I was about to faint, when I heard it. The decisive announcement. “Row 5, trapdoor 17” My dream had come true.
The last thing I knew before I woke up was that I was falling into blackness, into infinity, into nothingness. I woke up dazed. In front of me I had 5 doors in which I could enter, and I guessed that I had to choose one. I looked around, and perceived that I was sitting on a patch of grass, with two others. They looked like a couple to me, happily married, with no downs in their life, just the terrible fate of the Igazi. The man, around 25 or so, and the woman, about the same age, were neatly dressed in formals. I noticed their facial features, the man’s square face, with green eyes, a bent nose, and thin lips. The woman, on the other hand, had a thick coil of hair down her right side, with black eyes and a certain charm of nature. They asked me if I would ally with them, and I was taken aback. Alliance was near to suicide. But I took my chance, and shook hands with them. Right then I realized that there was something black and shiny sticking out of the man’s back pocket. Oh no. Not that. I said to myself. I knew that projection of the butt end of a gun well. It was the very thing which had caused my parents’ deaths 7 years ago, and I was not to be mistaken about the gun. I believed that it was with them for their safety, but my fate soon seemed to be the opposite. We went into the fourth door, which looked a little un-trodden as compared to the rest. In we went, and kept on walking for around half an hour, with no other living soul in sight. It was a melancholy walk up to the two-third point, and I was frustrated. They hadn’t said anything to be before that, leave the only question related to alliance. Not even their names.
I finally decided to break the rock-hard silence. “What are your names?” I asked. Within the time I could blink my eyes, I was pinned to the ground by the man and was staring into the barrel of the gun. I saw his forefinger close around the trigger, and stiffen. “Oh, wouldn’t it be good to finish off an opponent even before the competition starts?” he said. “Oh, sure, honey, why not?” she replied. My wits were scared out of me, and I couldn’t get the cloud of blankness out of my mind. Adrenaline soaked my nerves. I closed my eyes, and payed my respects to my parents. The few seconds’ road to death seemed to stretch for hours, and my eyes remained shut.
And suddenly there was a loud bang that filled my ears, the bang of the release of a bullet. The bang of a gunshot.
The bang of my death.
2
3:00 PM, 20th June, 2116
A shrill scream forced me to open my eyes. I first thought that the scream may have been my own, but when I opened my eyes, I saw her, towering over him, and he, limp as anything, lying sprawled in front of me. She had shot him in cold blood, and looking at me being a witness of the crime, made a dash. In she ran, and I was too terrified to follow. I sat there, leaning against the wall, with adrenaline coursing through my veins. I looked around me, as to expect some form of help, but all I saw was hopelessness.
I gathered my courage, and went on. The few minutes’ walk seemed to stretch to hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, millennia, eons of time. As I went on, I thought about who the man could be, as I had never seen him in the neighbourhood before. And who was the woman? How was he related to her? Why did she originally take his side to kill me, but then double-crossed? What if the bullet had missed and had hit me instead? Was she actually aiming at me? Or did she really want to kill him? Where was I heading to? What challenges would I have to face? How long is it between me and my death? I could get the answers to these questions in only one way. And that was to go and to live in who-knew-what.
As I reached the end of the tunnel, light spat at my face. I thought about the man lying prostrate in front of me, still, motionless, frozen. 1 of 5 gone, but did that do me any good? Will the ones inside forgive me for this? I think. The gleam of the sun at the mouth of the tunnel forced me to shield my eyes and squint for signs of life.
Suddenly, I jerk to look back as I hear a noise behind me. It sounded like the shuffling of feet, but I couldn’t be sure. Moreover, I had no kind of flashlight or for that matter any source of light except the sun. I thought about what I could do, and ended up with two options. Either I could flee and run for my life, into an unknown world, or I could go and make friends with whoever was there inside the tunnel. Well, since the start of this trip, friendliness and alliance had not been something to my advantage. But I decided upon taking a risk and chose the latter option. I advanced with careful steps back into the tunnel, and called out.” Anyone there?” I got no response. I called out again, and this time a dark figure jumped out at me without a moment’s notice, and it sprang straight at my face. I had a vague vision of a huge, black, furry creature jump out at me and licking my face as I fell down. Wait. I knew this smell. It was Czar!
“Hey Czar! Here, boy! Here!” I was overjoyed. And intrigued. How could he have followed me till here? Did he also jump with me into the trapdoor? No, it can’t possibly be. If he had, I would’ve seen him in the hallway. Or somewhere else. But I didn’t. anyways who cared? As long as he was with me, I had no fear! My Irish wolfhound was the dearest thing to me in my life. I always cared for him more than myself. I have gone without food for several days, but have fed him every single day. He was the heart to my body, the breath to my life.
And now here he was, playing with me, companioning me for who-knew what. I asked him if he wanted to go and get a sneak peek at our new neighbours, and he pranced on his feet with excitement. Suddenly, I realise that I hadn’t payed attention to what was the scene in the, the... What do I call this place? I didn’t know. . I decided to call it the Fallaciouso. My first interpretation.
(There's a lot more action, mystery, suspense, and thrill to come)(And this NOT going to be another hunger games.)