Free The Fear Trials by Lindsay Cummings

Chapter 1
    I live in a walled-in world.
    The Perimeter stretches as far as the eye can see, a massive expanse of titanium. Only the seagulls can soar above the wall, see what destruction lies on the other side. It should make me feel safe.
    But there is always the Dark Time. There are still the hundreds of murders that happen every night when it comes.
    â€œ Focus , Meadow! You’re daydreaming again.”
    I look up. My father stands across from me on our houseboat, his silver eyes staring into mine. Sometimes I am convinced that he hates me.
    The waves rock the boat up, down. It is near dusk, and my father’s scars are illuminated by the dying light like hundreds of watching eyes. They are proof that he is a killer. A survivor.
    He keeps us alive, and someday, he expects me to become just like him.
    â€œSteady hands, Meadow,” he says.
    I put my fists up. But for one moment, I glance away as a seagull swoops past and dives headfirst into the waves in pursuit of a meal. It’s hardly a second—but it is long enough for my father to lunge forward and land a punch across my cheek. I taste blood, metallic and bitter.
    â€œPay attention to your opponent,” he says. His Catalogue Number, a tattooed barcode that we all bear on our foreheads, wrinkles up as he frowns. “ Never look away.”
    â€œYou hit me.” I spit out a mouthful of blood.
    â€œNext time you lose focus, I’ll use my dagger.”
    We circle each other, both light-haired, our bodies covered in scars, skin dark from years under the hot sun. The sun drips down into the sea. The world is illuminated in red. Blood red.
    My father punches me in the nose. I whirl to the side and land a blow across his shoulder, but he is always faster. Stronger. He grabs my arm and twists it sideways, so close to snapping bone that I cry out.
    â€œNot good enough!” he snarls. “Coexist with the pain. Fuel off of it. I won’t have a weak daughter, Meadow. Weakness is death.”
    â€œI’m not weak,” I growl. “I’m tired.”
    A wave rocks the boat, and nausea sweeps over me. I drop to one knee, but my father rushes forward. I have just enough strength to roll sideways, toward the railing. A body floats past below. Though we all have nanites in our systems to keep us healthy, there are still ways to die in the Shallows.
    Starvation is one. Murder is the other.
    â€œI’m done!” I scramble back, away from the railing.
    My test is still two years away. I have plenty of time to learn how to defend myself. Tonight, I just want to sleep.
    â€œYou’re not done until you win,” my father says. He crosses his arms.
    I cross mine, too. “I’ll never win against you. It’s impossible.”
    â€œNothing is impossible if you want it bad enough.”
    There are other boats around us. Almost all of them are wrecked, half-submerged, like jagged teeth biting through the surface of the ocean. In the distance, on shore, palm trees sway with the sea breeze. People, looking like ants from here, hurry from the beach, rushing to find shelter for the night. A place to hide.
    Suddenly the alarm sounds, whooping high, then low. It is loud enough that I almost believe I feel it in my bones. I shiver.
    The Dark Time has come.
    â€œWe’ll finish this later,” my father says, motioning for me to follow him inside the cabin, where the rest of our family waits.
    No one, not even my father, wants to be out when daylight fades.
    Darkness brings nothing but death.

Chapter 2
    I remember the first time I saw a dead body. I was seven. My older brother, Koi, had just completed the Fear Trials. It is a rite of passage in my family, a series of tests devised by my father to prove to him that we’re strong enough, brave enough, to leave the boat and work in the city without his protection.
    Koi took me out in our dinghy. He paddled fast and hard, eager to make it to shore. But we never got there.