The Wheel: A Young Adult Dystopian Novel (Nightfall Book 1) by Cynthia Hickey (new books to read .TXT) 📕

told in hushed whispers? I stared at shelves of supplies, weapons hanging on hooks, and piles of what I thought was clothes.

I disrobed, tossing my thin yellow dress onto the pile in favor of thicker clothing. I donned some tights and sturdy boots. A leather skirt and jacket lined with fur over a dark tee-shirt. I tied several scarfs around my waist and shoved a pair of tinted goggles onto my head. I stuffed gloves into pockets.

After locating a sturdy canvas bag I could carry on my back, I added the food Mam and I had filched from the feast then approached the shelves of supplies, stuffing as much freeze-dried food and water inside as the bag would hold. How much time did I have left? I dropped a bottle of something called purifying tablets into the bag.

I had no idea how to use any of the weapons hanging on the wall. I shoved a dagger in each of my boots and slung a scabbard and sword over my shoulder. The door opened as I reached for a white box with a red cross on it. Holding the box behind me, I turned and faced the man who’d locked me in.

His gaze roamed over me. “You don’t look like the pretty young thing that came into this room. You actually look the part of a Stalker. Let’s hope you last longer than your predecessor.”

“I’m still confused as to—”

“It will all be explained.” He poked a needle into the flesh of my right forearm. “Your tracker. Follow me. Your orientation starts now. You’ll be dropped off in the morning. You might want to put the first aid kit into your pack. You can only leave the room with what you are wearing or is in the backpack. This is a test to your wisdom. I hope you chose well.”

My boots slapped against the stone floor as I hurried after my guide. This time, he led me to a room and ordered me to sit in front of a long table. At the other end were three empty chairs. Without a word, he backed from the room and closed the door.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before another door opened and two men and a woman entered. All were of indeterminate ages and covered with scars. The woman stood close to six-feet tall, the men not much shorter. One man missed an eye, a dark socket where once an eye had been. My fear and apprehension grew.

“She looks rather small,” the woman said, her lip curling into a sneer. “If the former leader lasted less than a moon how will this one endure?”

I scowled. “I’m stronger than I look.” My legs might tremble at the thought of my unknown future, but I would not be looked down on by anyone.

“Perhaps. You do seem to have chosen well from the outfitting room.” She took her seat between the two men. “Crynn Dayholt, the wheel has chosen you as a Stalker. With the leader having passed, you, being the next chosen, takes his place.” She folded her hands and focused a sharp gaze on me. “Question?”

“Why a leader? I’m not even aware of what a Stalker is.”

“I’d prefer one of the more experienced Stalkers had taken the position, but they all refused.” She set a jar on the table in front of her. “Smear a line of this across each of your cheeks, then put the jar into your bag.”

“What is it?”

“The stripes signify you’re the leader.”

I frowned. “There’s something about these stripes the others didn’t like, isn’t there?”

She shrugged. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

As I dipped my fingers into the thick paste and painted on the stripes, she continued, “A century ago a plague wiped out most of the human race as I’m sure you learned in your six years of education. Then war and bombs. What was left behind is a world of danger, fire, and bitter cold. Dark days that vary little from the night. A handful of humans survived. Others survived but are not the same. Those are the Malignants, a species intent on our destruction. They eat anything with a heartbeat. The Stalkers have the job of ridding the cities of them so one day mankind can reclaim the lands they lost.” Her eyes narrowed. “This is the most dangerous occupation on the wheel. The three of us were once Stalkers.”

That explained the scars. The stripes were a mark. “The Malignants target the leader, don’t they?” My blood ran cold.

The man with one eye nodded. “We were all leaders once. If you survive for ten years, you are brought back here to live a life of peace and luxury, such as we can attain.”

Somehow, I didn’t believe many made it ten years. “Will you train me?”

“You will train tonight, have a few hours of rest, then more training. Day after you’ll be dropped in the city.” She stood and motioned for me to follow. “When you are in the city, you will have to find food if you run out of the weekly provisions dropped inside the wall. I suggest you make your food and water last. There is little to hunt on the other side of the wall except those creatures.”

Realizing her talking was part of my training, I soaked in her words, branding them on my brain. The next room she led me to resembled a wasteland full of discarded metal, bins of burning debris, and steel bars the type used in building. “Is this what the city looks like?”

“In a very small way.” She ducked through a door, leaving me alone.

Okay. I turned in a slow circle, freezing as something scraped against the floor. My mouth dried up.

Someone in a hood that obscured their features screamed and rushed me. I scrambled backward falling to the floor. I scuttled