The Lottery by Beth Goobie Read Free Book Online Page A

us why you’re here,” said Willis.
    “The scroll,” Sal croaked faintly. The girl beside Willis giggled and Sal fumbled for her name — Ellen Petric, a girl who had mixed success with Nice’n Easy. One day she’d be honey-blonde, the next, a vibrant carroty sheen.
    “The scroll?” probed Willis.
    “... told me to come,” faltered Sal.
    “And why did it tell you to come?”
    “Because I won the lottery.”
    “That’s right,” Willis said approvingly. “Tell me, Sally Hanson — what does it mean to win the lottery?”
    The words were automatic, unthinking, her brain dulled by fear. “It means I’m your dud for the year.”
    Willis’s eyebrows rippled. A look of amusement crossed his face.
    “Demerit,” said a voice directly behind Sal.
    “Reason for the demerit?” asked Willis mildly, looking past Sal to the girl who’d spoken.
    “Victim showing disrespect to Shadow Council president,” replied the girl, her voice clipped and flat.
    “Rolf, record one demerit,” said Willis, nodding at a lanky blond guy on the couch.
    “Sally Hanson, one demerit,” murmured Rolf, marking an X in the binder on his lap.
    Not even five minutes had passed, and there was already an X beside her name. “What’s a demerit mean?” Sal blurted, her voice a small explosion in her throat, scaring her.
    “Second demerit,” snapped the girl.
    “Reason for demerit?” asked Willis, his face expressionless.
    “Victim speaking without permission,” said the girl.
    “Record second demerit,” said Willis, and Rolf’s hand marked another X.
    Sal’s lips parted slightly, as if trying to speak without sound. Jagged waves skittered across her brain, coming and going — nothing that made sense, nothing to hang onto.
    “If you wish to ask a question,” Willis said softly, “raise your hand and wait until you’re given permission to speak.”
    Slowly Sal’s hand rose.
    “Yes?” asked Willis.
    “I’m not a victim,” said Sal.
    “Demerit,” the girl behind her snapped again. “That’s not a question.”
    “Record demerit,” said Willis.
    Fear was a large dry tongue, filling Sal’s mouth. Again, her hand went up.
    “Yes?” prompted Willis.
    “Do I get to give demerits?” she asked.
    For a moment, Willis’s face seemed about to break into a laugh. Then he leaned forward and took her chin in his hand. Sal stopped breathing. Touched — she hadn’t expected to be touched.
    “Listen to me, little sis,” Willis Cass said quietly. “We know you better than you think. In fact, we knew you before you entered this school. We were waiting for you to start S.C., and we’ve been watching you since you got here. Maybe it’s a coincidence you won this year’s lottery, and maybe it isn’t. Whatever — your name got drawn, and you’re the lottery victim. You know what that means. Everyone knows what that means.”
    He paused, letting the silence gloat. Sal stared at the network of blue veins on his upturned wrist.
    “You ever talk to last year’s victim?” he asked finally.
    Knowing descended upon her. Motionless, she sat without speaking.
    “I asked you — did you talk to last year’s victim?”
    Sal shook her head.
    “So, you know how it works. Everyone cooperates. Everyone wants a victim, Sally — even you. So how can you complain? Did you protest when it was someone else?No, you watched, you enjoyed, and now it’s your turn. Now you’re Shadow’s victim, Shadow’s dud for the year. We’ll assign you duties, and you’ll perform them. When we pull your leash, you’ll come. We whistle the tune, and you dance. Listen up now while we introduce ourselves, so you won’t confuse us with the masses that dwell under our guiding light.
    “I’m Willis Cass, Shadow Council president.” Releasing Sal’s chin, Willis raised his right hand, the middle three fingers pointed upward, the fifth and the thumb tucked in.
    “Ellen Petric,” smirked the carrot-blonde beside him, also raising the middle three