Recruits (New Haven Book 1), page 1
Recruits
Copyright © 2019 by Sara Jo Cluff
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Paperback ISBN 9781087453910
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, August 2019
Awkward Pepper, LLC
awkwardpepperllc@gmail.com
Cover images from pixabay.com
Cover design by Sara Jo Cluff
F unny how a few pieces of paper seemed harmless and insignificant, but the second I added my signature to it, they became binding and permanent.
Life-altering.
Staring at the paper, I tapped the table with my pen, the clink-clink in rhythm with my foot. I’d read the contract over twenty times, yet I still couldn't force myself to sign it. I was basically signing my life away, and just the thought of making a permanent choice for my future twisted my insides into knots.
I glanced around the room, taking in the warm hues and overly chatty potential Recruits. More than two dozen different teens had come and gone since I'd first arrived. Most of them signed their contracts with a flourish that would make my easily excitable best friend jealous.
Everyone came dressed in their best. Modeled after the nineteen fifties retro look—which had been the rage for as long as I could remember—they had the proper balance of style, class, cleanliness, and authority. A style I never quite fit into, despite my fifties style dress and pale green cardigan.
Infinity Corp went out of their way to make Recruitment seem voluntary. Like it was our choice.
It wasn't.
Really, for the average seventeen-year-old, the choice should have been simple. Easy. Infinity Corp offered the best of everything in River Springs—the jobs, the pay, the benefits, and the social status.
According to the Recruitment Guidelines Manual, Recruits who excelled were guaranteed high-ranking positions from the get-go. Statistics had also proven employees at Infinity Corp lived a happier, healthier, and longer life than the average citizen.
At least, that was what they promised me in big bold print on the front cover. I couldn’t finish the book. Most of my friends had read it ten times and had the entire honor code memorized. We were supposed to read the manual to help us prepare for the upcoming weeks. But after reading chapter after chapter of position protocols, Recruitment procedures, and proper etiquette, I found myself wandering over to my brother, Derek, and sitting through his theory on particle-wave acceleration just so I wouldn't have to read.
Out of sheer amusement, I skimmed the honor code. Whoever wrote it must have been insane. Half of the rules made no sense. The other half were just plain silly.
Infinity Corp held Recruitment every single year for all the seventeen-year-olds in the city. Before anyone even sees the contract, applicants had to take a series of written tests, a physical fitness exam, and a psych evaluation. If you passed, you were accepted into Recruitment.
My letter of acceptance had come in the mail the previous week. You are hereby instructed to report to the Recruitment Office pursuant to filing the appropriate paperwork to embark on your journey. As you know, being invited to Recruitment is a high honor and should be treated . . . blah, blah, blah.
I didn't finish the letter, either.
My best friend, Dee Jennings, stood near the front desk, chatting with the receptionist, who happened to be Dee's neighbor. Dee's curly brown hair bounced as she laughed. She pulled off the retro, polka dot dress and red lipstick flawlessly.
Dee had signed the contract and turned in her forms within twenty minutes of stepping through the door. It had been over an hour since she handed the receptionist her papers, yet I still stood there, procrastinating. I'd already told Dee multiple times to leave, but she’d insisted on staying until I turned everything in. Knowing her, if I didn't sign the papers, she’d do it for me.
With my mom working as the administrative assistant to the president and CEO of the corporation, and my dad being the head of the IT department, the expectations placed on me were high. It added way too much pressure to something I didn't want to do in the first place.
Not only did my brother work for them, but he’d also been ranked number one when he finished Recruitment a few years ago. Number one. He'd held it over my head every single day since graduation. He “excelled” in Recruitment, giving him the highest first-year position in the security and technology division of the corporation.
I rubbed my temple. My thoughts kept running away from me. It only prolonged the inevitable. I’d eventually end up signing the contract. It was what my family wanted. It was what I had to do.
My eyes focused on the contract. All I needed to do was put the pen on the line and scribble my name. My brain shouted at me to do it. My heart told me to walk away. My foot and hand were anxious. My eyes were bored.
Many lines on the contract kept standing out to me. They were so intense. So binding. So grave. Failure to abide by the rules may result in termination. That line leaped off the page at me, practically punching me in the gut.
“No matter how intensely you stare at your paper, it won't sign itself.”
My tapping stopped instantly as I jerked my head around to see a guy standing unbelievably close to me. So close that I could smell fresh mint wafting from his mouth.
He was gorgeous. While most of the guys in the room had on suits and ties, he had on a pair of casual tan trousers, a light blue button-down shirt with the top button undone, and a navy-blue cardigan sweater over it.
The guy smiled, exposing his perfect, white teeth. Actually, besides his slightly crooked nose, everything about him was perfect. “Are you nervous? Unsure?” His blond hair was a little lighter than mine. A slight hint of amusement traced his blue eyes.
I cleared my throat. “A little of both.”
He glanced around, taking in all the other teens signing their contracts. “It's just a signature.”
My eyes went to the dotted line at the bottom of the paper. Just a signature. “It feels like more than that to me.”
He leaned in, his chest barely brushing my arm. “What does it feel like?”
Trying to ignore the fact that I could feel his breath on my neck and that he was undoubtedly the hottest guy I'd ever seen, I forced myself to look at him. My voice stayed low so no one could overhear. “It feels like I'm signing away my rights. My choice. My freedom.” I closed my eyes and sighed. “That sounds weird, doesn't it?”
When I opened my eyes, he was shaking his head. “I felt the same way.” He shrugged. “You have two choices. One, you work for Infinity Corp. Two, you waste your life away in a crummy part of town with a terrible job and hardly a dime to your name.” He tapped my paper. “Sign it. Those pretty green eyes shouldn't be destined to a life of destitution.”
With his face only inches from mine, I suddenly forgot how to breathe. His eyes were so blue, so alive. “When you sign, what name’s going there?”
My cheeks grew warm. “Emmie Woodard.”
He stepped away, pulling out his contract and pointing to his signature. “Eric Greene.” He had a warm and sudden smile, reaching his eyes. “I'll save you a seat Monday morning.” With one last smile, he walked away, his warmth lingering.
Even though I could feel Dee staring at me, I avoided eye contact. It would only make me blush more when I saw her all too knowing smile.
Sign the contract. That was all I had to do.
One signature separated me from having a privileged life.
By signing below, Recruit acknowledges that participation in Recruitment is purely voluntary.
Voluntary.
Nothing in River Springs was voluntary.
Hoping I wouldn't regret it later, I put the pen on the line and scribbled my name.
S ome of the water I'd just swallowed came back up, spraying from my lips, barely missing the manual laying in front of me on the kitchen table.
“Emmie!” Mom shook her head and handed me a napkin. She brushed some of her blonde hair out of her face. She always wore it up in a bun at work but took it down the second she came home. It looked better that way. It drew you more to her beautiful, flawless face, accentuating her green eyes. “Wipe yourself up.” She pointed to my manual. “You shouldn't even have that at the dinner table.”
We were sitting in the kitchen, the furniture modern, but made to look retro. Anyone who didn't know better would think all the appliances were straight out of a nineteen-fifties catalog, with their sleek, curved appearance. My parents had opted for the cherry red color scheme, making our kitchen pop.
“Give her a break, Janice.” Dad smiled at me, the gesture showing in his hazel eyes. He was a very soft-spoken man with a gentle tone, making him the easiest person to get along with and love. “It's her last night with us before she begins Recruitment.”
I wiped my mouth. “Sorry, Mom. It's just this honor code. Is it a joke?”
Derek stuffed a piece of roast into his mouth. “Aren't all honor codes jokes
“The honor code used in Recruitment is there for a reason, Emmie,” Mom said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “They're strict, so make sure you follow each rule on there.”
I looked back down at the rules, only making it two lines before I shook my head. Some of the rules were understandable: no fighting, no swearing, be in your dorm by curfew, respect authority. Most of those applied to our normal lives in River Springs, like no fighting.
Some of the rules were pushing the line for teens: no makeup, no jewelry, no hair dyes. Some were completely ludicrous: no switching places in line, no talking in lines, no rude looks are to be exchanged, use kind words, no chewing gum.
They had a picture index on appropriate hairstyles, ranging from plain to extremely plain. They had a scheduled meal plan for every day, individualized for each person depending on height, sex, weight, race, hair color, and eye color.
What killed me, though, was the wardrobe. It consisted of long sleeve, crew neck shirts, and make-sure-no-sign-of-an-ankle-is-exposed pants. There were only a few selected colors: red, blue, green, white and black. They gave you a schedule for what colors you were supposed to wear each day.
“This is delicious, Philip,” Mom said.
Dad had let me pick ‘my last meal.’ He'd meant it as a joke since I would be gone for a couple of months, but it rang true in a different sort of way for me. It felt like my last meal before they ripped away my freedom. Not that I had much freedom to begin with. Everything seemed controlled here in River Springs.
Derek held up his hand for me to high five. “You usually can't do anything right, but roast and potatoes are a decent way to go.”
I eyed the gravy sliding down his hand and shook my head. Ignoring Derek's glare, I turned my attention to Dad. “It really is, Dad. I'm going to miss your cooking.”
Mom usually worked late, so Dad did the cooking in the family. Well, that was the excuse she always used. She had no cooking skills whatsoever, even when she tried. That was one of her few downfalls. Mom was amazing in everything else she did. Except maybe mothering. She didn't try hard in that field, though. Sometimes I felt like an afterthought.
“Thank you, sweetie.” Dad took a roll and poured some honey on it. “I think they've added more rules since I went through Recruitment.”
Derek grabbed the book from me, getting a smudge of gravy on it. “I think they've added some since I went. Wow, looks at Emmie's menu.” He whistled under his breath. “Tough couple months for you, little sis. Oatmeal for breakfast, bologna sandwich and an apple for lunch, and rice and peas for dinner. Every single day. No dessert.”
They had selected every meal I didn't like, probably on purpose. I snatched the book back, wiping off his mess before I set it on the table. “I need to learn how to not gag when I eat peas.”
“They're just peas, Emmie.” Mom gave me a disapproving look. “They won't kill you.”
Frowning, I continued flipping through the book. “Do you know we can't talk to our Recruitment partner after lights out? Which is at nine, by the way.” I paused, my eyes unfocused on my food before me. “How would they know if we're following these rules? They're not putting us under surveillance, are they?”
My family continued eating in silence.
“Right?” When no one answered, panic set in. “They can't watch us dress! That's just . . . wrong.”
“They don't watch you dress,” Dad said. I couldn't be certain, but he didn't sound so sure of that. “They just trust you to do as they say.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “Calm down, Emmie. They don't observe you. They'll ask you about it, though. Every day. Your dorm and Recruitment leaders are highly skilled in person to person communication and will be able to get to the truth of the matter.”
Derek threw a roll at my face, smacking me in the nose. “You need to learn to think fast, sis. There will be some tough challenges. Especially the one with the sharks.”
The roll only made it halfway to my mouth before I paused. “Sharks?”
Derek's eyes widened. “Oh, crap. We aren't supposed to tell you about the challenges. Forget I said anything.”
“What sharks?” My eyes darted to Dad.
He wore a wide smile. “Derek's joking. There are no sharks in Recruitment.”
“There better not be.” I shivered at the thought.
Derek's words were slow and deliberate. “Yes. There are no sharks.”
Mom smacked his arm, laughter pulling at her lips. “Knock it off, Derek. You're going to give her a heart attack.” She gave me a reassuring smile. “There are no sharks, Emmie.”
Muttering under my breath, I pushed my plate away from me. Derek always knew how to ruin the moment. Dad stood, grabbed our empty plates, and took them both over to the sink.
“Emmie, I'm going to miss that scowl of yours,” Dad said as he rinsed off our dishes.
“Don't worry, Dad,” I said. “I'm bringing it back with me, hopefully improved.”
Dad laughed. “I'm looking forward to it.” He added some soap to a sponge and scrubbed the plates. “I trust you'll improve your already amazing sarcasm skills, too.”
“But of course.” I stood, went into the kitchen and put my arms around Dad. I would miss him the most. “How often do you get to visit?”
“Twice.” Derek appeared next to us, ruining the moment, again. He looked down at me, an annoying glee in his eye. I hated how he always towered over me. He was tall like Dad and always tried to use it to his advantage.
Dad rubbed my back. “I've already notified work of those visits, so I'll be there.”
“Why do they make them in the middle of the week and the middle of the day?” Derek asked. “It never made sense to me.”
I pulled back from Dad and looked up at Derek. “Nothing in Recruitment seems to make sense. It's all a bunch of nonsense if you ask me.”
Mom tsked. “Emmie, watch that tongue of yours. You're going to get yourself in trouble during Recruitment, I just know it.” She stood and came over to the sink, shooing us out of the way so she could wash her dish.
Dad winked at me. “Emmie will stay out of trouble, right?”
“Sure. But I'm not going to like it.” I went back to the table, sitting down.
“Promise me you'll take it seriously,” Dad said. “There are going to be a lot of things that seem pointless, but everything's important in Recruitment. Remember they're testing you. They want to see how you react to these things and if you can do as you’re told.”
Derek smiled at me. “You're so screwed. You never do what you’re told.”
“I can if I want.” I shrugged. “Sometimes. It depends on who's watching.” When Dad raised his eyebrows at me, I sighed. “I'll be on my best behavior, I promise.”
“Let's hope that's good enough.” Mom brought a chocolate cake to the table and sat it in front of me. “Mrs. Jennings dropped this off. She told me to tell you good luck.”
Eying the chocolate cake, I licked my lips, realizing it would be my last dessert for a couple of months. “Looks yummy.”
“Is Dee excited about starting?” Dad brought me a plate and a fork. Taking a knife, he sliced a piece of cake off for me and set it on my plate.
“Yes.” I took a bite and it immediately melted in my mouth. Dee's mom certainly knew how to bake. “It's Dee. She gets excited about everything, including Recruitment.”
When Mom and Dad were done cleaning up, they sat back down at the table. Mom leaned forward, resting her hand on mine. “You're going to try your best, right? You know everyone will be watching you closely. Our family is well known in the community.”
I grunted. She certainly knew how to ruin my chocolate moment. “Mom, I said I will.”
She smiled, but it didn't touch her eyes. “I know, but I want you to do well. This is important to me. It should be to you, too. This will decide the rest of your life.”
Did she need to keep on reminding me of that? “Mom, I won't do anything to embarrass you, don't worry. I'll swear an oath if that will make you happy.”
Mom sighed, removing her hand from mine. “You're making it tempting.”
