Chapter 20 #2
“I saw what I saw, Tim, and I’d like to get back what’s mine if that’s alright with you. I’ve got some novas here to smooth the transaction.”
“No! Take me out of here!”
“Settle down back there! I hear you, Clint, but I can’t let you kill the kid. We have proper laws around here these days, if you can believe it.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not going to kill him. He would’ve been dead by now if that was my plan. We’re just going to talk all polite like. Isn’t that right, Bobby?”
“I swear on my honor.”
Tim clears his throat. “Well, that changes things.”
I see where this is going, and I’ve nothing more to lose. I pull out the sharp piece of metal from my back pocket and shoot my hand forward until I’m pressing it against Tim’s throat. “Drive.”
“Hey!” the younger guard yells.
“Keep your hands down! I swear I’ll fucking cut him if you move.”
“You don’t want to do this.” Tim tries to sound calm, but he’s breathing heavily.
“I’m not going back to them. Do your fucking job and take me away from here, then I’ll be gone like I was never here. Drive!”
“Told ya he was bad news,” Clint says.
“Yeah, you did. Last chance, kid.”
“Drive!”
A jolt of electricity hits me, coming from my seat. I scream and drop my weapon, my muscles spasming until I fall onto my side. The electricity stops within seconds, but my heart continues to drum like it might explode.
“Fuck, I love using it,” Tim chuckles. He turns to watch me lying on the seat, drool sliding from the corner of my mouth.
“Unlock the door so I can take him out of your hands,” Clint says.
“Afraid I can’t do that. The kid assaulted an honorable man of the law, and there’s only one place for him after this.”
Anywhere away from Clint is better, I think, then I realize what Tim is likely talking about, and I’m no longer sure.
*
It’s been three days since my arrest, and I’ve been dreading this moment every single minute. My execution. Though they don’t officially call it that. It’s my chance to fight for freedom and prove I’m worthy of a second chance.
But I’m going to die tonight; I can feel it in my bones and in my heart.
Above us, the ceiling creaks under the weight of people filling the arena. I was one of them a few days ago, watching as poor bastards stabbed one another with scissors. Now it is my turn to be the entertainment.
I refused to eat earlier because I had lost all appetite, and now I feel weak and tired.
I glance at the twenty men and women who are cramped here with me, trying to assess my chances, which seem grim.
I can tell the others are doing their own assessment, likely labeling me as easy prey.
I wish I had trained in hand-to-hand combat with Caden like he offered me multiple times, but I was focused on my work with Dino, thinking that combat training would be a step back from all that I had accomplished.
Guards walk into the stuffy room, carrying sacks.
They open one and pull out a black mask.
It seems like the kind that covers the top of the face but leaves the mouth free.
“Listen up! Each of you is going to put on one of these. You won’t see shit, and that’s how you’re going to play tonight.
You’re also getting one of these.” He takes out a small wrapped package.
“Only open it while you’re in the arena.
If you do it sooner, we’ll gut you, and if you drop it on the way… tough luck.”
“How the fuck are we supposed to fight without seeing?” someone asks.
“I don’t make up the rules! Take these and put on your masks. If anyone tries to cheat and poke holes, we’ll take out your eyeballs.”
I should be more afraid, but I’m numb, as if all of this is happening to somebody else. When I’m handed the mask and the small package, I ask the guard, “Is there a game between the houses tonight?”
“You think you’re gonna stick around to watch a game later?”
People laugh.
“I’m just curious.”
“Nah, no houses are fighting tonight.”
Then Caden isn’t here.
“Citizens of Denver!”
I jolt at the booming sound of Hector’s voice above us.
“Put your masks on,” the guards say, kicking those who stall.
My panic surges the second I can no longer see.
The sour scent of someone else’s sweat lingers on the fabric.
If I can’t see my attackers, how am I going to defend myself?
I no longer feel numb. I have to survive this.
I want to see Timothy again, and River and Josh and Dino and Caden—more people than I ever thought I’d care about.
They order us to stand, then steer us to form a line. A large man stands in front of me and another one behind, making me feel squashed. Above us, Hector promises that tonight’s fight for freedom will be more exciting than usual. “Whoever wins is really going to earn it!”
They open the doors and nudge us out. My bare feet step on soft and warm sand.
The crowd’s cheers are deafening, an assault from all directions.
A guard moves me to a different spot and tells me to wait.
I can’t tell if I’m at the center or closer to the sides of the arena’s floor, and I can’t tell how close the others stand.
Through the loudspeakers, Hector orders us to take out our weapons.
I carefully unwrap my package and pull out a knife that feels smaller than the one I usually carry with me.
I’ll need to get lucky and hit an artery or stab multiple times to keep my opponents down.
There won’t be many clean deaths tonight, though killing someone is never truly clean.
My hand shakes as I try to hold the knife firmly. I can’t start running blindly in the hopes of stabbing someone before they can stab me. I have to be smarter.
“Contestants, fight for your freedom!”
I go down on my hands and knees in a heartbeat. When they led me to this spot, they steered me to the right side of the arena and turned me around, which means the closest wall is to my left. I hurry toward it, hoping it will make it harder for others to find me.
A man screams close by, but the screams turn into gurgles as he chokes on his own blood.
I keep walking on all fours, wondering if I messed up the directions, then someone tumbles over me.
They crash close enough for long hair to brush against the side of my face.
I wish to keep walking, but I can’t take the risk.
With only a split second to react, I grab the person’s hair to get a better idea of where to locate the neck, then I shove the blade into their flesh.
I can feel the person thrashing, but I keep myself low to make it harder for them to slash my face.
Warm blood covers my hands, and based on the gasps of suffocation, the one I’m killing is a young woman.
I don’t allow myself to feel remorse, not now.
When I feel she’s no longer a threat, I pull my knife out and continue to crawl on the sand, the mask itching over my sweaty face.
Finally, my head bangs against the wooden wall.
I’m relieved, but I worry that others might have had the same idea, so I move back a few feet.
Seconds later, I sense someone coming closer, walking against the wall.
I hold tightly to my knife, now slippery with blood.
I don’t want to risk another fight unless I have to, especially since it feels like the other person is walking on two legs, making it easier for him to stab downward and hit my head.
Luckily, they walk past me. I keep myself as small as possible, trying to force my senses to take in every nearby movement.
Screams of pain and death come from different directions, followed by a loud cheer from the satisfied crowd.
I feel relieved with every cheer, since it means I’m one step closer to surviving this hell.
I don’t believe they’ll allow me and possibly others to stay on the ground much longer, and true enough, Hector’s voice sounds through the loudspeakers. “It seems we have eight… hmm, brave contestants left!”
The crowd laughs, and all I can think of are the seven rivals I still need to survive against. I thought there would be fewer by now.
“Since we don’t have all night, it’s time to take off your masks and start proving you are worthy of freedom!”
The crowd cheers louder, and I hurry to pull off my mask before the others can beat me to it. On the other side of the arena, a large man runs toward a woman who struggles to pull off her mask. I look away right before he falls on top of her, but I can’t escape her screams.
I jump to my feet, relieved there isn’t anyone close enough to be an immediate threat.
Two men are fighting to my left and stabbing each other on the ground.
Since being passive is no longer going to help me, I run toward them.
Right as the man on top stabs the other through the heart, I send my hand forward and slice his throat.
He stumbles to his side, eyes wide and staring at me in horror as blood gushes from the cut.
I hurry to look around, and my heart drops at the sight of two men running toward me from both sides of the arena.
The three of us are the only ones left, and they clearly decided to take me out before ultimately facing each other.
I start to dash between them, but the man whose throat I just slashed reaches out and grabs my ankle.
I lose my footing and crash on my hands and knees, my knife flying ahead.
I curse and look up to see both men almost upon me, knives in hand.
I have nowhere left to run.