Sheep and Wolves by Jeremy C. Shipp Page A

we’re only allowed to slaughter sheep inside the Barn. We all know that. However, breaking that rule isn’t what has Kent and I so concerned. We at Arthur’s Science Camp believe that to slaughter an adult not only shows disrespect to us, but to the other authority figures in your lives. I’m talking about your parents. Do you want to disrespect your parents?”
    There are a few no’s. Most everyone’s silent.
    “Slaughtering a fully-grown sheep is a privilege at your age,” Hamilton says. “Not a right. Only your parent mentor can decide whether or not you’ve earned that privilege. Not me, not Kent, not any of you. Do you understand?”
    “Yes,” we say.
    He swipes the card.
    Nigel leans in close to me and says, “Let’s go swimming.”
    “We can’t,” I say. “We have to go inside now.”
    “Suit yourself.” He walks away.
    So I go in alone, with everyone else.
    *
    The young sheep girl squirms and gags, and that’s about all she can manage. At some point she’ll probably pee her jeans.
    My station today is equipped with needles and an axe. Mainly I’ll be working with the needles, because the axe is just to finish.
    I have thirty minutes before Kent shows up to inspect my work, and my stomach is killing me. I feel like throwing up and shitting at the same time. I feel like exploding.
    I start off scratching her skin with a needle tip. In general the skin nearer to the bone is more sensitive than areas with more fatty tissue, so I go for the skin nearer to the bone.
    She’s trying to talk to me. If she weren’t gagged, she’d probably beg for mercy and then when I don’t give her any, she’d tell me that she hates me. She’d tell me that I’m going to burn in hell.
    I stick a needle in her eye.
    She screams silently.
    What she doesn’t understand is that I’m not doing this because I want to. I don’t want to cause her as much pain as humanly possible. This is about need.
    I’m going to do a great job, and then I’m going to get my needle badge, and then I’m going to show it to my father. He’s going to hold me and tell me that he’s proud of me.
    I need this badge.
    *
    Once again I dream of falling, and I wake up on the floor.
    “Come on, guys,” England says, without his usual fake accent. “Hurry up.”
    “Who died this time?” Nigel says.
    England doesn’t answer.
    We follow him to the fire pit.
    Hamilton isn’t smiling anymore.
    I throw up on England. He doesn’t care.
    Hamilton dangles there, naked, skewered by the sheep spit. But he’s not a sheep. He’s one of us.
    Mike wraps a leaf around Hamilton’s small penis, and holds it on with one of her hair bands. “That’s better.”
    “Go to your rooms!” Kent says, rushing in front of Hamilton. He waves at us with a machete. “Go to your rooms now!”
    That’s what we do.
    I sit down next to Nigel on the bottom bunk. My muscles loosen. My teeth relax. My stomach doesn’t say a word.
    “I can’t believe he’s gone,” I say. “He was annoying, but he didn’t deserve this.”
    “The others we cooked on that fire didn’t deserve it either,” Nigel says. “No one deserves it.”
    “That’s different though,” I say. “They’re only sheep. Hamilton was a wolf like us.”
    “So we have the right to torture and kill anyone who isn’t like us?”
    “Not the right, really. It’s just the way things are. The world is really overpopulated, and we’re a natural defense mechanism.”
    “Is that what your dad tells you?”
    “Well…yeah, but I believe it.” My gut’s starting to churn again.
    “My dad says that every person we kill did something really terrible in a past life. He calls us knights of karmic justice. Everyone’s got their reasons, but reasons aren’t good enough.”
    I’m silent for a few moments, as a little spotlight shines inside my brain. “Nigel…did you—”
    “Did I kill Hamilton?” He shakes his head. “I haven’t killed anyone since I got here, and I’m not planning