Page 61 of Vice

25

Dele

When I contemplated everything that Pray had in store for those children when Viper let them continue to their destination, I didn’t contemplate that the man was essentially trying to build his own fucking brainwashed militia. Just when I thought I knew the depths of Pray’s ambition and insanity, he does something like this.

I silently follow Madelyn and Randy as they take us from the observation deck and directly down to the floor with Viper next to me and Wyan in the rear.

“I wish I’d known you were coming. The younger ones are in bed right now. But luckily, tonight was one of our random training and drills for the older recruits. So you get to see them in action,” Randy says.

He nods to a group practicing their shooting.

They’re scarily efficient and accurate. Never missing the mark they’re directed to shoot. Finding every instant kill point. And even though they’re kids, I can’t help but think of how I would take down a fighter like this if I came across them. Stay out the way more than likely. Capitalize on the fact that they’ve probably been trained not to fear death or pain and to go after targets with a ruthless efficiency and tunnel vision that would likely end up being their weakness. Just like Viper when he gets fixated on—

Viper.

He’s the blueprint for this. A boy who had a gun put in his hand when he was almost ten years old and became a ruthlessly efficient and creative killer in the name of both noble and devious causes. But these kids ideally wouldn’t have any of his weaknesses. His propensity for obsessively and emotionally latching onto people he cares about. His hotheadedness. His narrowminded focus on revenge when he’s slighted. His propensity for disregarding authority.

Viper is the blueprint. The prototype. These children have the potential to be the perfection of the monster he is.

“How many do you have?” I ask.

“Depends. At this level? Fifty-nine. That’s after an extensive and intensive culling process from hundreds more when they’re brought in.”

“Hundreds,” I whisper.

Viper discreetly squeezes my wrist as he asks, “And after all that, what percentage do you retain to this point?”

“Eight percent. Three percent higher than the five percent target,” Randy says proudly.

“And what percentage will make it from this point to the end.”

Randy contemplates before answering and says, “Hopefully twenty percent.”

That’s twelve. Twelve out of hundreds of children that will ultimately survive this insanity only to become attack dogs for Pray.

Viper is squeezing my wrist painfully now. Because he knows I’m a second from taking out my gun and shooting Randy.

Wyan notices too because he intervenes, getting right between my line of sight of the man and says, “I’m curious into the minute details of running this kind of facility and maintaining obedience and cooperation when the recruits outnumber you and the people you no doubt have helping you. Perhaps you could explain it to me while I inspect the rest of the facility and my colleagues continue to evaluate the progress.”

“Of course,” Randy says and then takes Wyan out the room to tour the rest of the facility.

Viper loosens his grip on my wrist, and I snatch it away.

Then he grabs Madelyn, sits her down on a nearby bench and warns, “Don’t try anything. Wouldn’t want us to have to cull off your family next.”

Then he comes back to me, where I’m still gazing at the children make terrifyingly accurate shots. Well, for this simulation. It’s a whole different thing maintaining terrifying accuracy when the target is alive and moving, the wind is blowing, or it’s raining, or whatever elements mother nature is throwing at you. That’s the one thing that comforts me about this. That they’ve been locked in this cage this entire time and don’t know what it’s like to have to do this in the real world.

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself.

They’re kids. But here I am categorizing them as a threat and analyzing how despite their skill, I have the advantage.

That said, I was a kid once too. So was Viper.

“Why have one ruthless, unstoppable enforcer when you can have a dozen,” Viper says. “Trained to take orders and never ask questions.”

“Looks like you weren’t the only one plotting.”

“He was plotting longer. This isn’t something you manage to do in just seven years’ time.” Viper pauses and then says, “I think this was his plan all along. But then…”

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