153. And Now There Are Nine
153
And Now There Are Nine
B raveheart
The staff picks me for the first challenge. The ten of us males are hovered a few miles away. The other males are boasting, joking, and challenging each other. It’s all a cover. They reek of the sour stench of fear.
These are criminals. Each and every one was plucked from a prison cell to perform in this competition. It’s clear many are in good physical condition, but I’m a geneslave. I don’t know what the sadistic corporation has in store for us, but I’m not only in good physical shape, I’m mentally strong. I’ve faced my death dozens, maybe hundreds, of times since childhood. Whatever the challenge is, I can win.
Except I’ve never had Willow’s life hang in the balance before.
It’s full dark out and we’re miles from the others when the hover stops and eases to the ground with a shudder. Zedd’s face appears on the vid screens.
“Welcome back, viewers. Here we are with the first challenge of the night. We’ve randomly selected one male from each team. Just to remind you, the team with the best score gets to eliminate the team of their choice. Let’s show our viewers where the males are, shall we?”
The cameras pan the area, which looks like the rest of this forsaken asteroid—blowing orange sand with few landmarks. I pay close attention to the terrain the camera’s infrared is showing. It’s not flat like much of the asteroid’s terrain. There are some dips and rocky knobs.
“And if the hover would turn off its lights for a moment…” Zedd pauses and the infrared cameras stop filming, showing the home audience that it is almost pitch dark out here. The moon above is just a sliver and provides almost no illumination.
“These males will participate in a footrace back to camp. Let’s get these males off the hover.” As we file out, she reviews some of our performance statistics.
When I exit, I hear her commentary, “This geneslave was thrown in prison for insubordination to his Galactic Federation owners. Isn’t that just like many children?” she quips. “Disobeying their parents must result in punishment. This one’s number is 1708. If you recall, he’s the one clumsy enough to get bitten by a serpent on our first challenge. Let’s see how good he is at running in the dark, shall we?”
I show no emotion. It’s not difficult. It’s what I did for most of my life. I put Zedd’s slurs and sneering attitude out of my mind as I focus on returning to camp. Too bad it wasn’t Valor who was chosen to run this race. His enhanced night vision is much better than mine.
The staff have us line up. At least I can see where the finish line is. They might have considered turning all the lights off in the little compound, but with Zedd’s need for attention, there are several spotlights still shining in that direction. All I have to do is run to the light.
“Go!” Zedd says.
I take off in the right direction, but have no desire to be at the front of the pack. I’m a geneslave, for better or worse. The better part of being a geneslave is that I have almost infinite endurance. I’ll stay in the middle of the group, confident I can pour on more speed toward the end when I’ll need it. In the meantime, I can see the shapes of the males in front of me. If something happens to them, I’ll have time to correct my course.
I know one thing. If TGN is conducting this race, they have a trick up their sleeve. Running in the dark isn’t enough of a handicap. I need to be on the lookout for something else. Whatever it might be, I imagine this is more than a simple footrace.
The males at the front are setting the pace. Perhaps they haven’t spent their lives running races under conditions similar to this as I have. They should be conserving their energy, but they’re not.
I stay in the middle of the pack, which has spread out and is no longer a tight bunch. We’re about halfway to our destination when I hear stumbling, then screams.
Watching closely, I see three at the front disappear. Halting immediately, I use my senses to discern what’s going on. I believe there’s a pit in front of us. I move to my left until I’m out of the pack, then walk forward until I reach the edge of a crater. This isn’t a natural formation. TGN staff dug it. If I see correctly, there are pointed stakes at the bottom near the edge, ensuring that anyone who fell on one of the spikes would die.
The watery moonlight is bright enough I can see where the large hole in the ground ends. I make my way around it and jog forward at a reasonable pace.
I’m now at the front of the pack as others follow me. I don’t look behind to see how many there are. I just keep running toward our goal ever mindful that Valor and Willow’s lives depend on me.
I hear it before I see anything. The flapping of wings. Not small wings, like those of a bird, but the slow beating of leathery wings. Even in the dim light, I can see when a huge shadow falls over me.
I don’t need to strain to see the flying animal now. It’s breathing fire and illuminating the area. This might explain the increased presence of armed guards at night I’ve noticed since The Game began.
The deep, screeching sound it makes is designed to instill fear in its prey. It must be deeply ingrained into my ancestors’ DNA, because the fur on my arms stands on end.
Reaching down, I grab a rock not much bigger than my fist just in time before it swoops in and grabs me in its sharp talons.
Willow, Valor, I love you, I shout toward them inside my mind, then I focus on extricating myself from this beast’s grip.
The animal has tucked its legs—and me—against its body, which is covered in scales. My puny rock is no match against the animal, which is bigger than the hover that transported us here. Its three-toed legs, though, show some vulnerability.
I bash the rock against the toes that are clutching me. The animal screeches and tries to bite me with its bird-like beak, but it can’t reach me while it’s flying. That beak is big and sharp enough to cut me in half when we get to its nest. I need it to release me now.
It’s hard to know how high in the air we are, but that’s irrelevant. I think I can survive the fall far better than getting eaten by this beast.
I keep pounding the animal’s legs, which are about as thick as my forearm. While beating on one leg, I bite the other leg as hard as I can. I may not have the same long fangs as some of my animal ancestors, but my fangs are weapons, especially since Valor removed that ampule from my back. I manage to bite through the animal’s relatively thin skin and chomp into tendon.
The beast shrieks even louder and releases me. The sound of its leathery wings follows me as I plummet to the ground. I can’t estimate the height I fall, but it’s high enough that on the way down I wonder if the drop will kill me. After I hit, I’m thankful it wasn’t as far as I’d feared. I roll and rise all in one motion. After getting my bearings, I run toward the light.
Warm, coppery-scented blood covers my chest and legs. I’m so focused on reaching the finish line, I don’t spend an iota of energy trying to figure out whether it’s my blood or that of the flying beast.
My right ankle is paining me. I must have damaged it in the fall. I keep running.
The beast had been flying to its nest. It took me farther from my destination. I see others running in front of me. I pour on more speed, ignoring the pain in my ankle. I focus only on breathing in, breathing out, and putting one foot in front of the other.
Valor might be trying to reach me, but I push awareness of that out of my thoughts. I don’t want to hear from him or Willow. I need to see them.
As I get closer to the finish line, I feel the psychic energy flowing from Willow and Valor, giving me the strength I need to dig even deeper inside myself and run fast enough to overtake one male. As I pass the finish line, I’m told that despite being attacked and carried in the wrong direction, then falling on my bad leg, I’ve come in fourth.
Good job! Good job! My team chants excitedly as the hover returns with the five contestants they had to retrieve from the pit the staff dug while we worked on our car today. Four live contestants and one dead body. All those teams got zero points. With one fatality, we now only have eight rival teams.
Unerringly, I find my team and limp straight into their arms.
I feel a surge of love and healing energy from Valor, and suddenly my injured ankle is no longer throbbing. The burn is gone from the gashes left by the creature’s claws. Thanks, my brother. You’re getting better with those healing powers.
I’m relieved those are the only parts of your body I have to heal, he replies as his arms tighten around Willow and me.
“Braveheart,” Willow breathes into my ear. “I lost it when the camera showed us a closeup of that dragon lifting you and flying away with you.” She pulls away far enough to spear me with a solemn gaze. “I love you so much. I don’t want to lose you.”
I say nothing, but in my mind I hope Valor wins his competition. Willow’s a wonderful female, but she’ll be lucky not to come in last in her challenge—whatever it is. She’s the smallest female here by far. Smallest and weakest and least equipped to win any challenge. I clutch her tighter and try to hide my worry.