The time trials are not what I expected. I guess I figured we’d run on an oval track with a starter’s gun telling us when to leap forward, and a finish line showing us where to stop. It’s not at all like I imagined.

  The first event is an individual run through the trees to the top of a hill and back down. There is no trail or even an outlined course, only the simple instruction to run up and back. I’ll be one of the last to go, so I’ll use the opportunity to watch the others to see what they do.

  I’m amazed to watch this display of agility and speed for the first time since arriving here. Runners are graceful and fluid in their movements, not to mention quick. However, I know I can run faster than the Runners I’m watching.

  Beth is next in line. Ms. Kimura holds a stopwatch and gives the order to begin. Beth runs like a deer, gracefully bounding over fallen trees and weaving in between boulders and brush. Sometimes she jumps from tree trunk to tree trunk without her feet hitting the ground. She has cat-like grace and speed that’s mesmerizing to watch. She reaches the top of the hill, having been out of sight for some of the run, and doesn’t pause a second before turning around. When she runs back down the hill, she takes a different route than any of the others. I think she likes being different.

  A few more Runners take their turns. Soon it will be Chris’s turn. I notice his size and muscle development is more advanced than nearly every other male. His only contender in that department is Justin. However, the younger boys seem to be more agile simply because of their smaller frames and trim bodies.

  Standing in front of me are a couple girls who are evidently smitten with Chris. They giggle every time he moves and they whisper comments that make me blush. After hearing some particularly inappropriate and disrespectful words and phrases, I clear my throat and say, “Do you mind?” They both turn and give me the stinkiest stink-eye, but at least they stop.

  Chris starts his run up the hill. His moves are different than Beth’s, naturally because of their gender difference, but also because of his muscle mass. His powerful legs take him over the ground Beth bounded over. I understand how this makes his time faster after hearing Coach Simms instruct the hurdle runners to just skim over the hurdles and get their feet back on the ground as soon as possible. I once heard him say, “Your strength is in your legs. Anytime you’re in the air, you’re slowing down. You don’t have wings to propel you forward.” Observing the difference between how Chris runs compared to Beth is proof enough the laws of physics are alive and well. I’ll keep my feet on the ground as much as possible when I run the race.

  When Chris completes his run, he jogs past me. He doesn’t look at me when he runs by, but somehow I know he’s quite aware I’m there.

  Now it’s my turn. I’m glad most of the Runners are gone so they won’t witness my incredible speed. I’m determined to carve myself a niche in this group, no matter how much they end up hating me in the process. Ms. Kimura tells me to go. I launch forward and swiftly bound over the first fallen tree, getting my feet back on the ground immediately. I want to run faster, but I can’t because of how many trees and rocks I have to dodge. I wonder to myself how this is considered to be an effective way to test a Runner’s speed.

  Near the top of the hill, I come across a cliff about twenty feet high that I’ll need to climb. This must be where I lost sight of the other Runners. I’m not sure exactly how to approach this obstacle, but my intuition tells me to avoid the cliff and run around it to the other side where Beth came down on her run. That’s exactly what I do, and I feel I made a better choice than slowing down to climb.

  When I reach the bottom of the hill, Ms Kimura says, “Very good, Calli.”

  I feel like I did well.

  The next event resembles a military obstacle-course, complete with a string of tires and a climbing wall. I wonder if this is a speed test, or combat training? What difference does it make if we can swing from a rope? We are Runners, after all.

  Three of us run the course together. I hurry through as fast as I can, keeping an eye on my opponents. They seem to be taking care to place their feet directly in the center of each tire and to make their movements rhythmic. I just want to win, and I do. Well, at least I place first in my group. I don’t know how I performed overall.

  The final race takes place on a dirt road that winds up through the mountains from the compound. We walk up the road for several miles and then prepare for the race back.

  This is my moment to shine, to run as fast as my legs will take me, and blow their socks off, I think to myself. I catch Beth’s eye as we are preparing to begin. She shakes her head as if to warn me not to win. Yeah, right. The starting gun sounds and I run as hard as I can . . . and yet I watch the backsides of everyone else get further and further ahead of me until I can’t see them anymore. When I finally cross the finish line, they all cheer, or more like jeer. Some of them say I’m faster than any human, insulting me further.

  One girl comes up to me with a genuine smile and pats me on the back. “Thanks, Calli,” she says. “Now I’m not the slowest muck anymore. I won’t have to go on the assignment.”

  What just happened? I shake my head in confusion. I ran so fast the trees blurred as they flew by. The skin on my face had been blown back by the g-force because I moved so rapidly. But I was the slowest! I certainly didn’t hold myself back like Beth told me to do. No, I went into the race determined to kick everyone’s butt. However, the only butt that got kicked was mine.

  I feel crushed and humiliated. I am a muck, I think.

  Clara comes over to me. At first I think she’s going to chastise me for going so slow, but she congratulates me on my speed and instructs me to head to her office and wait there for her.

 
Lorena Angell's Novels