Cull: The Cull Stories, #1

Cull

Zhané White

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Copyright

Copyright 2012 - Zahra Brown (pseudonym: 'Zhané White')

All rights reserved.

License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold, or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

www.zhanewhite.com

Image: ixpert/Shutterstock.com

CONTENTS

Your Story

Damon Janesh

Leo McGregor

Ivory King

The Death Penalty

Homecoming

Cull

Too Late

The Fittest

I Tried

Dear Reader

About the Author

Dedications

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This book is written in British English.

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Your Story

I would like to apologise for killing you.

A long time ago, I made a fatal mistake. I set off a chain of events that destroyed your life. Events that killed everyone you love. Events that stole everything you worked so hard for. Events that will not go down in history. Events that have changed history, forever. Events I will share with you now.

I know what you're thinking: I've heard it all before. You think you know, and you do. However, you don't know the truth. I am here to tell you the truth, the version that was hidden from you until it was too late. Until you were too weak to act, to fight back, but still strong enough to surrender.

You've seen everything from an outside perspective. You've seen the media reports. The headlines. The front page. The chaos online. The madness on your street, outside your front door, in your home.

They thrive on fear. When I explain to you what's been happening, you will still be afraid, if not more so. So what's the point? you ask. The point is that informed fear can be overcome, overpowered. When you know who your demons are, you can face them. Right now, you have no idea what you're facing.

You will know soon enough.

Once again, I'm sorry. I dreamed a monster, but I should have left it in my nightmares. Instead, I tore it from the inner workings of my mind. Awake, I shaped and moulded it, and then showed it to my superiors. I still remember the evil glint in their eyes. A week later, my monster was unleashed onto the world.

It will kill everyone.

Even me.

I deserve it, I know.

I am ready to die.

Damon Janesh

"Demon Janesh, a guy whispered. My kid can't afford a degree 'cause of him!"

I turned round and headed straight for the man. He walked away but I called him again and again until all eyes were on us. Red-faced and sweating profusely, he turned to face me.

Excuse me, young man, I said. Were you speaking to me?

No, sir. I was talkin' to Mickey.

I eyed up the guy standing close by, his white cheeks turning pink. I pointed at the floor next to me and he moved over, his eyes focused downwards. Then I circled them both as the workers gathered around us.

I could have sworn that you mentioned my name.

No, sir, I was talkin' about Mickey.

Mickey? I turned to Mickey, who saluted me when I approached him. Is your name Janesh too?

Mickey shook his head.

"Is your name Demon?"

He shook his head again, his hands trembling.

So who was he talking about? I clasped the taser gun on my holster. Should I repeat the question?

No, sir! Mickey gulped. I...I can't remember who he was talking about, sir.

Really? I pulled out the gun. Really, 788956?

Please, sir! Mickey dropped to his knees and clasped his hands. I didn't say anything! I agree with all your policies! You're my idol!

And what about your friend here?

Duncan isn't my friend. Just an acquaintance, sir! Mickey saluted me again. There's no friends around here!

Why not?

Because Cull leads by example. Everything and everyone is disposable. Mickey stood to attention. Everyone including Duncan, 788955.

Good, good. I turned back to Duncan. Any last requests before I terminate you?

Please, sir! It was Duncan's turn to drop to his knees. If I lose this job, I can't send my kids to school. My son's skipping uni because of last week's ruling. We're struggling as-

Any last requests before I terminate you?

Duncan's head and shoulders drooped.

Then get out.

––––––––

Mister Janesh? asked the dumpy blue-eyed blonde offering her hand. "Miss J Reed.

An American...Who are you?

Your new secretary.

Where is the old one?

She is on medical leave, she said. The bomb attack was a bit too much.

It's permanent.

No, just temporary.

"No, it is permanent. I took the former secretary's card off the desk and handed it to her replacement. Put it on. Do not leave it lying around like she did, understand?"

I wouldn't dream of it! She pinned the card to her breast and smiled. How can I help you?

How is expenditure?

Reed took the black folder from the desk and turned to the last page. She skimmed down the figures and stopped at the bottom.

Savings were going up until August, she said. Then expenditure rose again.

I thumped the desk and shoved the papers onto the floor. Reed backed away, the folder shaking in her hands. She waited patiently until I got my breath back, and then showed me the figures.

Where's the leak? I asked. Don't show, tell! It's your job! God, that bloody woman didn't say a word! All this time she kept her mouth shut and let...Remember to cancel any injury compensation. She doesn't deserve to be rewarded for her incompetence!

Yes, sir. Reed scrawled on the notepad on the desk. I looked over the figures this morning and saw what a fantastic job you've done thus far. Unfortunately, there is one area left to cut.

What?

The animals.

But the animal expenses went up, didn't they?

Yes, sir. A small dog licence now costs five hundred pounds, a healthy rise from the three hundred this time last year.

The insurance?

One thousand per year. There was a low uptake rate until the veterinarians agreed to raise their fees. A routine health check-up was priced at fifty pounds last month. Coupled with the January rise in VAT, it now costs one and fifty pounds. They may throw in some extra test or two. So far, there are many complaints.

Who cares, I said. Britons love to complain. Trust me. They won't do a thing about it.

Britons do love their dogs! Reed poured herself a glass of water and I wagged my finger. Sir?

Do not drink on the job.

I just need a brief break, sir. I have worked since 8am.

I cut the breaks! Why take an hour off when you could leave work an hour early?

Yes...

Reed put the glass down and took the notepad and pen from the desk. I paced up and down, muttering to myself. Suddenly I spun round and thumped my fist on the desk.

It's time, I said. No more pissing about!

What do you mean, sir?

These morons keep breeding the bloody things! The prices have gone up and up but these morons still breed the animals like they're on the verge of extinction. What do we really need dogs for? They could die out and it wouldn't make a difference.

I agree, sir.

Do you really?

Reed nodded slowly and smiled.

Your loyalty will be tested, I said. Are you ready?

Just say the word!

Good girl.

––––––––

After Cull's announcement, the media was silent. No one expected it. This was a good thing because it meant the press couldn't speak out right away. They'd prepared false reports and wrong headlines that needed to be trashed. While they were readying their stance, I sought out the public's reaction.

Reed, turn on the television!

Yes, sir!

She scurried over to me and took the remote control lying on the desk. She turned on the television and then slipped the remote into my hand before stepping back.

I didn’t have a favourite station - television just isn't the same when you control the media - so I picked the channel with the hottest news reporter. Her natural blonde ponytail, perky breasts, and supermodel legs were the perfect start to a cold, rainy Monday morning.

The new legislation was on every major station. The reporters were still on the fence, so they let the public do the talking.

It's madness, a woman cried to the reporter. They're not taking my Jessie away! I won't let them.

The camera flashed to a grubby man sitting by a store entrance. He flashed his yellow teeth at the camera and stood up to speak into the microphone.

What do you think of Cull's recent legislation? the reporter asked.

It's crazy, innit? The man wiped his snotty nose on his sleeve. My dog's the only friend I got out here. No one cares but him.

Cull's latest act will get Royal Assent by 12am. Do you understand what this means for your pet?

The man patted his knee and an Alsatian rushed over. It licked his dirty fingers and rolled over. The man rubbed the dog's stomach and then stuffed a treat into its mouth. The camera zoomed in on the dog panting, its tail wagging.

No one's taking my boy, the man said. He's mine and that's final.

The camera cut to a little girl playing with a kitten in her front garden. Her mother carried the kitten over with her daughter following behind. The reporter stroked the cat and thrust the microphone into the girl's freckled face.

Have you heard about the new law?

The girl nodded.

This means they'll take away your little kitty. The camera zoomed in on the girl's teary eyes. Does that make you feel sad?

The girl burst into tears. Her mother put the cat down and grabbed the microphone. The camera followed the little girl running back into the house before it returned to the mother angrily tapping her foot.

Those Cull bastards have gone too far! she spat. All these cuts are killing us! My daughter ain't at school because the head can't afford the teachers. My boy graduated with a first class degree in Law, but he can't find work because Cull cut business funding, which cut all the bloody jobs! I want those Cull bastards to stop screwing Britain over! We ain't giving in to their demands. We ain't moving out of town so those rich plonkers can swan in. Oh, and we definitely ain't killing our pets! I paid damn good money for that friggin' cat!

Turn it off, I said, tired of the constant moaning. Wasn't anyone on our side?

...No. Reed sighed heavily and flicked through the channels. No one.

Every station had angry citizens bashing my policies. The media was neutral, for now, just waiting to confirm whether the tide would turn.

Now I had to make sure it did.

Reed, call Miss Ivory King.

Who, sir?

She is Chief Executioner. Tell her I need her services immediately.

Reed picked up the phone and flicked through the phone book.

What if she's busy? she asked.

I don't care, I said. If she doesn't come now, she's fired.

––––––––

Ivory King strode into my office and sat opposite me, and crossed her slender tanned legs. She offered me a stick of gum but I declined. I hated chewing like a goat at the office. She placed a stick on her tongue and slowly rolled it into her mouth. I shifted uncomfortably and she laughed.

How can I help you, Mister Janesh?

Time to act.

What should I execute?

Nothing major this time. I need some dead animals.

Ivory smiled.

"I heard about Cull's latest order. Must I kill my lovely cat?"

You know it's just for the masses, I said. Just keep her indoors and no one will be any wiser.

So what's this about dead animals, then? she asked. I can bring some hunted carcasses but-

"No, I need dead pets. I need you to kill them."

Ivory nodded slowly.

I need some today.

It will be done tonight, she said. It will make a lovely headline tomorrow morning when the Leaks have worked their magic.

What's the plan? Reed asked.

Doesn't she know protocol? Ivory snapped.

We never discuss business matters in detail, I said. We make a request and it is granted. That is all. How it was granted is none of our business.

Yes, sir!

Reed stepped behind me again.

Which animals would you prefer? Ivory asked.

Dogs and cats. The epitome of domestication.

Do you want to write this down? Reed asked.

Ivory rose from the chair and planted a kiss on my cheek. I felt my groin burning as she walked away, swinging her hips from side to side. At the door, she