The Black Trials (The Trials Duology Book 1)

  The Black Trials

  Book One

  Tara Benham

  The Black Trials

  Copyright © 2017 Benham Books, LLC

  No part of this may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, recording or otherwise without the prior express permission by the author except as provided by USA Copyright Law. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of copyrighted work is illegal. Copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonments. This book is a work of fiction and does not represent any individual, living, or dead. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imaginations or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Suzanna Lynn at Funky Book Designs

  Interior Design/Formatting: Wit & Whimsy Designs

  Editor: Watch Jane Write

  ISBN-13: 978-1976150463

  ISBN-10: 1976150469

  First Edition: 2017

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my Billy, for loving and supporting me.

  One

  Eighteen minutes. I had eighteen minutes left before I turned sixteen, and I was awake. I was sure the Council would not be happy that they didn’t get to monitor the last eighteen official minutes of my childhood, but I just couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about how we had learned in history class that many years ago, sixteen was a happy year for kids. Now, it was a year of terror and training in hopes of getting to advance to adulthood. I wasn’t sure where the breakdown of our society began that caused dream monitoring to be necessary, but it has been the biggest change in how we function ever since. Our reoccurring nightmares are monitored and used as trials against us to determine what our futures will hold. If we pass, we get to become an adult. If we fail . . . well, failure is not an option for me.

  I will wake up no longer a child, and the process of using my dreams to make me an adult will begin. We are not allowed to be told what will happen, but six months prior to our sixteenth birthday we are given a handbook on what we are allowed to bring with us, and what general expectations we should have for the trials. Cold chills spread throughout my body as the fear and reality sank in. This could be the last time I get to sleep in this bed.

  I sat up and took in the view of my room, hoping I’d be able to remember it after the trials were completed. Nothing had changed since I was born except the size of the bed and the few decorations I’d hung up throughout the years. The walls were still a pale pink, and there was a pink and purple carpet in the middle of the floor. My mom had been so excited to finally have a girl after three boys that she made everything as girly as possible. I had pink and white curtains, and even now she made me buy pink and white bed sheets. Thankfully she didn’t enforce the pink requirements onto my clothing choices.

  The room wasn’t much, but it was mine—at least for the next twenty-four hours. The rules of our society allowed my family the day of my birthday to celebrate and help me pack, but then I would be escorted to the Center of Advanced Placement, and I would begin my training.

  Glancing back at the clock beside my bed, I saw I was down to seconds before I turned sixteen. I held my breath, closed my eyes, and waited.

  Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.

  There was a knock on my door just as I opened my eyes.

  “Happy Birthday, Fanya!”

  My mom walked in carrying a single cupcake with a candle on it. She looked as if she’d been awake all night like me. It was just us these days. My brothers were out of the house, and my dad had passed away three years ago.

  “Thanks, Mama.” I tried to make my voice sound as excited as hers did; I didn’t want to let the fear that was gripping my heart come out.

  Crossing my legs, I made room for her on my bed. She sat down on the space in front of me, holding the cupcake up so I could make a wish with the candle. I knowing she expected me to, I closed my eyes, counted to three, and blew out the candle. I didn’t make a wish because nothing I could say or wish for would help me through the trials I was going to have to face.

  “Okay. Eat the cupcake, then try to get some sleep. Your brothers and their families are coming over in the morning to celebrate, and then we’ll have to pack before the Guardians arrive. We want to show them that you’re ready for whatever.” She grinned, but it was sadder than anything else.

  She worked at the Center, so I was sure she knew I had severe nightmares on a regular basis. The closer we got to my sixteenth year, the stress of worrying about my birthday had caused an increase in wrinkles on her beautiful tanned skin. I didn’t remember much about my two older brothers turning sixteen, but I remembered Miro’s big day. It had been very hard for my parents . . . but I don’t think it took its toll on Mama’s aging as much as my impending birthday had lately. There were gray traces in her dark hair now, and her sparkling brown eyes had lost some of their vibrancy. Sadness had filled me the past few months, knowing all those changes were my fault, so I’d been trying to be upbeat about my challenges to encourage her.

  She gave me one last hug before leaving me to eat my birthday cupcake alone. It was still warm, so I knew it was fresh. The lingering heat from the chocolate cake made the vanilla icing a little runny, but it was still delicious. I devoured it slowly, unsure if I would get another taste of a fresh cupcake again. The trials were rough, each sixteen-year-old had to complete them based on the data collected from the dreams that had been monitored for the past ten years . . . mostly their nightmares.

  Not long after the last bite, my eyelids started feeling droopy and heavy. I laid back down and was asleep before another thought of the day crossed my mind.

  My alarm startled me awake around six-thirty, causing me to sit up straight up in bed. I hadn’t planned on sleeping any last night. I looked over at the cupcake wrapper, growing suspicious that my mother had drugged me to sleep. Seeing as I felt better, I decided not to argue with her about it. My clothes for the day were laid out on the end of my bed, meaning my mother was already up and had been in to check on me. I showered quickly, not wanting to waste too much time away from her and my brothers. I put on the light pink sundress she had laid and braided my hair back so that I didn’t have to worry about it for the remainder of the day. Opening my bedroom door, I could hear the voices of my family. I stopped in the hallway, listening as they laughed.

  My chest felt like it was tightening around my heart. I had a bad feeling—not because I had any reason, as I hadn’t even had any nightmares. I just felt like everything was off. By the end of the day, I would be at the center. I would have to face my nightmares. I wasn’t sure what was scarier . . . the thought of my nightmares becoming real, or the knowledge that I might not survive. Survival wasn’t guaranteed and making it through without scars wasn’t either. Miro had a gash on his face and a permanent limp from whatever he had to face. Adults weren’t allowed to talk about their dreams or their trials. They couldn’t even provide training on how to survive.

  “Fan?” Miro’s wife, Tierney, was standing in front of me.

  I hadn’t even noticed her approaching. I tried to smile, but unshed tears fell off my lashes, giving me away.

  “Oh, honey. It’ll be okay. You need to keep it together for your mom. She looks about as good as you do. We will be here tomorrow with her. But if she thinks you’re frightened, she might fight—and you know that wouldn’t be good for her. You’ll survive. Just remember, not everything as it seems.”
She lowered her voice greatly as she said the last part so no one could hear her guiding me. She hugged me in silence for a couple more seconds while I dried my tears. “Okay, let’s go face them with a big smile.”

  She grinned at me in an attempt to get me to perk up. She was beautiful, with dark green eyes and olive-colored skin. But there was a streak of white in her dark hair that was caused by shock during her trial five years ago. She and Miro had gone through their trials the same year. We were excited when they both survived, because they had hoped to be able to get married when it was legal.

  I knew she was right. When I left at the end of the day, I needed to know my mother would be okay. So, we made our way to the living room to join the rest of the family, smiles on and dry eyes.

  “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

  My whole family threw pink confetti into the air as I walked in. Mama watched intently to see how I would react. I didn’t want to spoil her fun, so I jumped and made myself laugh. The joy on her face popped up quickly as she saw that I was happy. I decided I would actively enjoy the day. My brothers and their families took turns hugging me and presenting me with gifts, as was our tradition. My nieces and nephews weren’t old enough to understand, but they clapped and danced around the adults. I took each gift and set them on a table beside me, and then hugged the giver every time. My mother was last. Her hug lasted longer than the others, and I could feel the tears begin to well in my eyes again. I scanned the room and locked eyes with Tierney, knowing that she would provide me with the smile I needed to get through the hug without breaking down. Mama turned as the hug ended and discreetly wiped her eyes.

  “Shall we open presents first, or have cake?” Mama looked to me to make the decision. Before I could answer, my belly rumbled out loud.

  “Well, Fan’s stomach says cake!” Filip, my oldest brother, responded, and the rest of us laughed.

  Mama brought out a pink cake that had Happy 16th Birthday written in black lettering. I was really confused because usually everything for me was pink and white from her. I stared at the letters and the doom they implied and suddenly felt like I needed to run away in an attempt to survive without having to face my nightmares. I opened my mouth to blow out the candles but had to close it quickly to swallow the sobs back.

  “Mama, what’s with the black letters?” Miro asked, sounding as shocked as I felt.

  “New Council rules for celebrating. You have to have something black incorporated into the party, and I felt this was the best and least shocking way.” Her eyes looked sad and worried that I would be upset.

  “The black against the pink looks nice, Mama.” I was fairly sure that the fear was no longer hidden in my voice, as it cracked when I spoke.

  The cake was delicious, but my throat was dry and scratchy as my pending future crept closer. I had to drink extra milk to get it to pass smoothly. I finished first, then took in the scene of laughter and fun that was happening around me. I was surrounded by survivors, so why should I think I would be anything less but one too? They each had their own strengths, and I had been raised by them; hopefully, aspects of their strengths had been ingrained in me.

  Whenever anyone would make eye contact as we ate, I made sure to smile and put on a happy face. I needed them to remember me as their Fanya. I knew what my fears were even though I didn’t know which ones would be chosen for me to face. But I also knew that if the worst were chosen, I had little hope of surviving.

  “Present time!” Mama stood up and started hauling my gifts to me to open.

  Most of the gifts were clothes that I could take with me to the center. My nieces and nephews presented me with fruits and other sweets. The last three presents I saved were from Tierney, Miro, and Mama. I opened Miro’s first and felt such love for the precious present. It was a knife that fit the parameters of what I could bring with me to the trials. The knife in and of itself wasn’t what made it special—he’d had the casing painted pink just for me. I leaned over and hugged him. We were not allowed to discuss our nightmares with others, but he’d somehow known the knife was something I would need. I picked up Tierney’s gift next. It was a leather bracelet that wrapped around my wrist four times and tied in a knot. It was beautifully made, and I loved it, but I was confused as to why she would buy me something decorative right before my trials. I thanked her, and when I leaned in to hug her, she pulled me close enough to whisper to me.

  “That’ll come in handier than you may think,” she winked as I sat back down to open Mama’s gift.

  I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant, but I knew I needed to keep the bracelet with me for the trials.

  Mama’s present was in a big box. I wasn’t sure what she could have gotten me that would be that large yet still useful, but I tore into the present as if I was too excited to wait. Inside the box was a survival bag that fell into regulations for what I could bring with me. Working for the Council allowed her to know beforehand what I might need more than what was provided in the handbook, and I was thankful for that. I was sure her position with the government had something to do with the success of her children, another thing I was grateful for at the moment. I gave Mama another hug for the gift and spent the next couple of minutes putting all my new things into the bag. There wasn’t much left for me to do but spend time with my family before the Guardians for my trials came to escort me to the center. We told stories about me growing up and laughed at the antics of the little ones in the room. As the sun began to set, one by one my brothers and their families said their goodbyes. Miro and Tierney were the last to leave.

  “I’ll see you on the other side, Free One.” Miro choked out as he squeezed me in one last hug.

  Free One was something he had always called me because of the meaning behind my name. The dam holding back my emotions began to crack. Tierney was next to hug me, reminding me in a private whisper that I was strong and could do it. She gave me a sad smile before turning quickly to rest her head against Miro as they left. Finally, it was just down to Mama and me in our house.

  “Fanya . . .” her voice cracked. “They’ll be here soon. Do you have everything you need?”

  “Yes, Mama.” I couldn’t make eye contact with her because if I did the crack would burst wide open and there would be no stopping the flood waters.

  “Look at me, Fan.” Her tone had grown more serious. She didn’t continue until I looked up and saw her looking at me, eyes fierce. “I need you. I need you to survive. You have to promise me that you will do everything in your power to come back to me.” She seemed to be getting more frantic as she spoke each word.

  I wrapped my arms around her.

  “I promise, Mama. I promise I will do my best.”

  “Do better than your best, Fanya.”

  “Yes, Mama.” And with that, the dam broke, and the tears began.

  We stood locked in the embrace until the knock on the door signaled that my time had come. I wiped the tears from my face and watched as Mama straightened herself and went to answer the door. Two Guardians, one female and one male, dressed in all black and looking very stern stood there. I was surprised when the one who spoke first gave me a kind smile.

  “Miss Fanya Kovac, Happy Birthday. I hope you have had a good day with your family. If you have all your things, we will need to head to the Center. You are the last of the Rojkos in this year’s cycle, and they are waiting at the Center for you to gather this evening.” Guardian One, the female, had a surprisingly bright, tinkling voice for someone who looked so serious. She couldn’t have been much older than I was, but she had survived her trials, so she was considered an adult.

  “I am ready. Thank you.”

  The announcement that the others were waiting for me threw me off. Usually, the trials are not done in groups. Each Rojkos is brought in on their birthday and sent through the trials individually. The news that the rest of this year’s Rojkos were awaiting my arrival stunned me so much that I couldn’t even ask for clarification.

  I handed my new surviv
al bag to the second Guardian and gave Mama one last hug. She kissed my cheek and winked. She didn’t seem as shocked that the other Rojkos were at the Center, but she wasn’t offering up any information either.

  “Bye, Free One.” My mother using Miro’s nickname for me made my heart flutter, but I was determined not to cry in front of the Guardians.

  “Bye, Mama.”

  With the closing of the door to the house I had spent the first sixteen years of my life in, my future had been set. I would either come back here a survivor or not be back at all. Tears blurred my vision of the house as we drove out of view. The Guardians were chatty, talking about the other Rojkos that were gathered this evening. I was one of eight that turned sixteen this year. The fact that all my friends that turned sixteen this year would be there didn’t ease my nerves. How were we supposed to maintain a level head knowing our friends would be facing their fears at the same time? I just couldn’t understand the thinking of the council, and why there was such as drastic change. I was the last of the year, so had the others all the way from the first of the year just been staying at the Center? What were they doing there? They weren’t allowed to train so their existence there must have been mundane. These thoughts continued to play over and over on the drive to the Center.

  Two

  I must have fallen asleep on the ride to the Center because my next memory was the second Guardian shaking me awake. He still did not speak to me, just smiled and held the door open to let me out of the vehicle. The building in front of me wasn’t new to me—I passed it regularly on the way to my classes. However, somehow tonight it looked more formidable. The lights reflected off the door, causing a shadow that didn’t let you see inside, just increasing the ominous feeling that was building within me. Suddenly my feet felt like they were made of lead.