Free The Elect: Malevolent, a Dystopian Novel by Tamryn Ward

though,” I admit, feeling like I need to own up to some weakness. I don’t deserve the admiration I see in their eyes. I’m not that special. All I did was climb a tree. “First, I know that was a setup, a test. I’m sure Claire and Jay knew how to get across. I was just the first one among the trainees to see the solution. That’s only because of how I grew up. And when it comes to computers, I know absolutely nothing. I’m sure being able to use computers is much more important than knowing how to climb a tree.”
    “Don’t worry. We can teach you,” Mattie reassures me.
    “Sure,” says Paul.
    Alice rolls her eyes. “Why would you do that? It’s a competition, remember? Only the top three get to choose their positions.”
    “Maybe there’s more to life than being at the top,” Mattie offers.
    Alice smirks. “That’s what losers say. Because otherwise they would feel like losers.” Alice leaves. I’m glad she’s gone. Because I was thinking the same thing. And I don’t like hearing my thoughts spoken aloud.

Chapter 9
    I still remember, more vividly than I wish, my first day of school. I was nervous. I recall standing outside, in line, looking at all the other kids’ faces and wondering if they were nice or mean. Would they be my friends? Or would they tease and torment me? I remember my teacher, her warm smile and sparkling eyes. She made all the butterflies in my belly settle down.
    I’m just as nervous today as I was then, though for different reasons. And the butterflies? Well, Jay is stirring them up. It feels like the whole swarm is spinning and whirling and whipping through my insides. It’s his eyes. They are so sharp and penetrating. I feel like he can see straight to my soul.
    I know in my head that I need to get a grip on my fascination with him. First, there are my feelings for Sam. I love Sam today as much as I loved him yesterday, even though I probably won’t marry him. But even setting the issue of Sam aside, Jay is my teacher. I am his student. There is a lot I need to learn. I need to be focused, to concentrate. Making matters worse, the consequences of failing isn’t just a bad grade. It might be…it could be…death. We do dangerous things. We are training to go to war. We are training hard so we don’t die. Not everyone will make it through this. I may not make it through.
    Somehow I need to get my head out of the clouds and pay attention.
    Like now. It’s our first full day here. We’re all dressed in identical black uniforms. I’m sitting at a table in our classroom, Mattie to my right and Tom on my left, I haven’t been listening to what Jay has been telling us. I haven’t been taking notes like Mattie. Or listening attentively like Tom. I’ve been watching Jay move. Noting the flex of his arm muscles when he lifts his hand to write on the chalkboard behind him. I’ve been thinking about Jay’s eyes. And about how fast those butterflies are somersaulting through my belly.
    “…hand-to-hand combat,” Jay says.
    Hand to hand combat? As in, fist fight? Really? We have to learn how to fight?
    Around me the other recruits mumble and grumble.
    “What do we need to learn that for? We’re fighting with computer-controlled drones,” Alice says. She’s sitting at the table next to ours, with Paul and another girl I don’t know.
    “Because we will be fighting hand-to-hand sometimes too,” Jay informs us.
    “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Hand-to-hand fighting? It’s uncivilized.” Alice rolls her eyes. “And unnecessary.”
    Jay glares at her. “The first lesson all recruits need to learn is to keep their mouths shut. If you don’t agree with our training procedures, you’re free to leave. Any time. Be my guest.” He jerks a thumb toward the nearest exit.
    She remains frozen in place, except her eyes. They flick around as if she’s searching for something, probably some help.
    No help comes.
    “What’ll it be?” our trainer asks, sounding