The Track to Deathathon

Pt. 1: Ready

Harsh white lights flood the eyes of the runners as they wait behind the starting line. Bright color clothes on tank tops, shirts, and shorts move in the breeze. All teenagers, the runners, represent both males and females. The track is hot and black, stretching all around the infield. Each lane is clean except for numbers one to eight. Each runner carries a wristband in their left hand. Every few minutes, it beeps.

The wristbands equip the government's latest technology in sports and people tracking. The software inside allows the measurement of heartbeat and oxygen levels. Running features include pace, distance, and time. Also, there is a GPS tracker to pinpoint the runner's location. Software updates regularly into the elegant, black plastic wristbands. The government requires daily use of wristbands day and night.

Red, bright lights flash as names and numbers on the electronic board. It is the bread and butter, the runner rankings. Rumor is the runner who makes it to the top goes home, but what awaits is much worse. Rise scans the board for his name- he is in the top seventh. If the rumor is true, he might be back in the cornfields helping his ma and pa run the farm. He misses his classmates from afternoon school. He remembers the day he got the mandatory letter that brings all the runners to the government's track.

It is a September morning, clear and chilly on the Prong farm. The rooster's crow awakens Rise Prongs. He cleans the stable and picks eggs for breakfast. Soon the mail arrives. Ma slowly hands the letter addressed to Rise across the kitchen table. Rise stares blankly; there must be a mistake. Rise is to run in the government's track program. He did not believe his running would garner too much attention, yet here was proof. Two days later, an official government car appears at the Prong's house to escort Rise. There is no time for goodbyes.

Rise sits between two government workers wearing formal attire.

"Mr. Prongs, you will be in New York, as your letter informs you," says the female worker.

"My name is Agent Vermont," says Agent Vermont.

Agent Vermont holds a clipboard and an electronic device. At that moment, Agent Vermont snaps the government wristband on Rise. She adds him into their system before pulling out of his driveway. Agent Vermont talks, but her words drown out in the background; Rise thinks of his home with his ma and pa. Who will take care of them? Rise suppresses the urge to throw up inside the car.

"On your marks."

The runners shift their bodies.

"Get set."

Breaths from the runners linger in the air.

"Go."

An electric gun pops.

A rush of bodies pushes around Rise; He feels elbows at his side. Lanes three and two merge into number one. A two-mile run is eight laps. Rise is behind the leading group until he advances his position in the sixth lap. A rush of euphoria enters his body as the wind splashes across his face. His lungs feel on fire when he crosses the finish line. His wristband lights green and shows his placement and time.

"All runners to the meal hall," resounds from the speakers.

Rise finds Jackson, a tall blond boy, amongst the crowd and walks his way. Jackson and Rise have become friends since Rise's arrival on the track.

"How was your race?"

"Well, I'm starving,"

"Me too. The bike is tiring,"

Runners sit after collecting their trays of food. As cafeteria workers distribute sports drinks and water, a group of suited people walks into the room. They carry handheld devices. The man in the lead clears his throat.