Authors: Morgan Rice
Charlie looks back and forth between me and Flo, and seems reluctant to go to her. But slowly, he obeys, and walks over to Flo’s side.
I can’t help but feel as if we are now all adversaries. All fighting for survival.
*
We are marched down tunnel after tunnel for what feels like hours, entirely underground this time, passing red emergency lights every twenty feet. Rats scurry beneath my feet, and in the distance, I hear the muted rumbling of a train passing somewhere. I wonder how many trains passed through here today, how many slaves they are capturing from the countryside, to present to their games. It makes me sick.
I feel the winter wind whipping through, colder today, and I wonder when we will exit outside. Something is different today. This time, there is no end in sight to the tunnels. I don’t understand it. Are today’s games underground?
Logan is growing heavy as Ben and I carry him, and I can feel his life force leaving him. The idea of bringing him to these games, to compete with others, is crazy. He can barely stand.
I try once again to think strategy, to figure out a way we can all survive. But it is hard. We’re surrounded by a dozen armed kids, all set on killing us, and I don’t even know the playing field we’ll be on. Just keeping myself alive will be a challenge, much less keeping the others alive, too. I worry for Bree, more than anyone. I have to find a way to protect her.
A huge steel door retracts, and as it does, the tunnel fills with sunlight. There is the muted roar of a crowd, and we are prodded forward. I raise my eyes against the blinding light, trying to figure out where we are.
As I am shoved outside, the steel door closes behind us, the winter wind hits me in the face and the roar grows louder. I look all around, and see no one. I can’t figure out where it’s coming from. Then the crowd roars again, and I look straight up.
I realize we’re on the floor of a circular canyon, with steep cliffs rising straight up all around us, several hundred feet. At the very top, standing on the edge of the cliffs, behind a railing, are the spectators. They jeer down at us.
The walls rise straight up, for hundreds of feet, and I don’t see how we can ever get out of here. Then I realize: there is no way out this time. I look around and see the dozen kids, armed to the teeth, standing with us on the floor of the crater. They have put us all down here, with no escape, to make us fight to the death. But why down here? Why not up high, on the ground?
I survey this arena, the canyon walls, and have an ominous feeling. I can’t help but feel as if the slaverunners have some trick up their sleeve. I look up and about a hundred feet up, I notice thick ropes, dangling down from the top of the crater. But why do they stop midway? It doesn’t make any sense. How are we supposed to get up there to begin with?
Before I can figure it out, suddenly, a voice booms through the air. The crowd quiets, and I look up and see the leader, staring down, his arms open wide, a smug smile on his face.
“
Brothers and sisters!” he bellows. “I present to you the third and final day of Arena Two!”
The crowd screams out in response. He waits for it to quiet down.
“
Today’s objective is simple. There are eighteen of you down there. You will all kill each other. When there is one person standing, he or she will be the winner!”
The crowd roars at his words.
“
Let the games begin!”
Suddenly, I sense motion all around me. The dozen kids all turn on each other, and on us—and a brawl breaks out.
The crowd roars, loving it.
This arena brings out the worst in the kids. I see vicious expressions on their faces as they charge each other in every direction. I see one girl take her sword and stab a short boy in the back. He falls, stunned, the first casualty. The crowd roars.
I sense motion behind me and turn in time to spot an overweight girl charging me, bringing an axe down for my head. My survival instinct kicks in. At the last second, I swerve out of the way and swing my sword, chopping her ax handle in two. She goes flying past me with her broken handle, and as she does, I kick her hard in the back, sending her flying flat on her face.
The crowd cheers. She gets up with a snarl.
“
I don’t want to hurt you,” I say, trying to talk reason to her. It’s true. I don’t want to kill anyone. I just want to get us all out of here.
But she won’t listen to reason. She seems to think that the way to survive is to kill me.
She pulls a small knife from her waist and charges me, holding it high, screaming. I don’t wait. I take the small throwing knife from my waist, plant one foot, reach back, and throw it at her. As she charges me, just feet away, my knife lodges perfectly in her forehead. Her eyes open wide as she stops cold, and falls flat on her back, dead.
The crowd roars.
But I am caught off guard. Before I can react, another kid charges me from the side, swinging a huge sledgehammer. I dodge it, and it misses by a fraction of an inch. I feel its wind race past me, and realize that in another second, it would’ve crushed my ribs.
This boy is quick and strong, and without pausing, he brings the sledgehammer up around his head, and aims to bring it down on my shoulder. I can’t react fast enough, and realize that in another moment, he will break my arm.
A stone hits him in the side of the temple, and he staggers and falls sideways. I look over and see that Bree has used her slingshot. It was a perfect hit. Once again, she has saved my life.
Before I can process this, once again I’m caught off guard, as three more kids charge right for me. For some reason, they all seem to be targeting me. One of them brings a sword down for my back, and I hear a clanging noise, and turn to see Logan standing there, holding his shield, blocking the below. I am amazed: he has just saved me.
Logan stumbles on his bad leg, but manages to hold onto the shield, and uses it to block several blows. He then swings around and cracks the teenage boy hard across the face, knocking him back. I lunge forward with my sword and stab the boy in the heart, finishing him off. He goes down, and the crowd roars.
Another boy charges me from the side, holding a spear, about to hurl it at me. Before I can react, I feel something whiz by my ear, and see it lodge into his throat. An arrow. He falls, dead, dropping his spear harmlessly before he can hurl it. I look over and see Ben standing there, having just fired.
Another boy grabs me from behind in a chokehold; he has thick forearms, and he squeezes hard. His arms are the worst weapons of all: he’s squeezing the life out of me. He’s also using me as a human shield, so the others can’t help me. I don’t know how I will get out of this one.
Then I feel him stagger, off-balance, and fall. I don’t understand why, but I break out of his grip, gasping for air. I look down and see a metal chain ball wrapped around his ankles, squeezing them together. Charlie has thrown them, tripped him up. I take my sword and plunge it through his heart. The crowd roars.
“
Charlie!” Flo snaps, summoning him back to her side. Busy fighting, she leans back and kicks a girl hard in the chest, then swings her sword and cuts off her head. The crowd roars like crazy.
I look all around us, and can’t believe the carnage. The fighting went so quickly, was such a blur. All around us are littered bodies. The other dozen kids are all dead. The six of us have won. Despite Flo’s warnings, we worked as a team. And now we are the lone survivors.
The crowd roars and stomps like crazy. It seems we have beaten the system.
We all stand there, looking at each other, each out of breath, holding our weapons. Now there is no one left to fight but each other. And, of course, none of us would hurt each other.
Or would we?
I look over, and see Flo staring back at me, hard eyed. I see her summing us all up, surveying all of us as if we are her final competition.
The crowd quiets as the leader steps forward.
“
There can only be one survivor. If you won’t fight each other, then we will kill you all.”
We all stand there, frozen in an awkward tension. Flo huddles beside Charlie, and Logan, Ben and Bree stand closer to me. Ben has his hand on his bow and arrow, and Bree on her slingshot. I can see that a part of Flo wants to be the only victor, for Charlie’s sake. But I think another part of her is divided. After all, I have saved her, and Charlie. And now I also have backup with Bree and with Ben. She hesitates, overwhelmed with conflicting emotions.
We all stand there, none of us moving, and soon the crowd begins to boo. And then, to heckle us. They start throwing down small rocks, and they land all around us, like hail. But the rocks miss, the crowd too far away to do any serious damage.
Just as their booing grows to a pitch, I begin to hear a great rumbling noise. It sounds as if the world is about to explode, and I can’t figure out what it is. Until I look up.
I spot a massive boulder being rolled, pushed straight down the cliff. It goes over the edge, rumbling, and comes rolling straight down the walls—right for us.
At once we all run together, trying madly to get out of the way as it comes flying down at us like a missile. I grab Bree’s hand as I run, and we all manage to run just hard enough to get out of its way. It misses us by feet. It flies by, stirring up a cloud of dust, and then crashes into the far wall of the canyon like a nuclear bomb. The ground shakes, and it raises an even bigger cloud of dust and debris.
The crowd cheers wildly. The leader steps forward.
“
That was only one boulder. We have dozens of others. If you don’t fight each other, you will be killed by us within minutes. Now stand and fight!”
The crowd cheers, and Flo slowly turns to me.
“
We have to fight,” she says. “If we don’t, they’ll kill us all.”
“
I don’t want to fight you,” I say. “There has to be another way.”
“
There isn’t,” she says. “If not for our sake, then do it for the sake of the others. You and I have to fight.”
I look up and spot another boulder, perched high up, and I realize she’s right. If we don’t do something soon, those boulders will kill us all.
“
No, I don’t want you to fight!” Charlie screams.
“
Neither do I!” Bree screams.
I turn and look at them, feeling their pain.
“
It will be okay,” I say. “Don’t worry.”
Flo turns and walks out slowly into the center of the canyon floor. As she does, the crowd goes wild. As I watch her, I feel I have no choice. I have to do it. If this is what she wants, this is how it will be.
I walk out, too, following her, and the crowd rises to a frenzy. The two of us stand in the center, facing each other.
As I am standing there, wondering if she will really fight, the crowd screaming, suddenly Flo rushes towards me, sneering, raising her sword high. She brings it down, right for my head, and I raise my sword and block her blow at the last second. Her blow is strong, one meant to actually kill. I am shocked. I can hardly believe it. She is not posturing: she really wants to kill me.
The crowd cheers like mad.
As I stand there, blocking her blow with my sword, the strength of her swing is making my hands shake. I’m shocked at the strength in her shoulders. I know that I can’t hold her back for long, so at the last second, I step to the side, and her sword goes flying down, to my side. Her momentum carries her flying past me, and as she goes, I wheel around and hit her in the back of the head with the flat of my sword, sending her stumbling forward.
The crowd cheers, and Flo turns and scowls back at me. She charges again, sword high, and slashes down; I stand to the side, and she just misses. I slash back at her, and she blocks my blow. We go blow for blow, swinging and parrying, pushing each other back and forth across the floor.
One of her slashes is slightly quicker than mine and she manages to slice my bicep. I scream out in pain, as blood squirts out. It is my first wound of the day.
The crowd screams like crazy. I reach over and cup my wound and see my hand is red, stained with blood.
She stares back coldly, unapologetic. I can hardly believe it.
She charges again, and we go blow for blow. She is strong, and fast, and I’m getting tired quickly. She is a machine. My shoulders are aching and burning, and I realize I can’t sustain this much longer.
For some reason, I think of dad. His words ring through my head, as I think of everything he taught me. All those lessons about fighting. About being tough. About hanging in there. About not fighting on the other guy’s terms, and I realize that’s what I’ve been doing: fighting on her terms. I realize I don’t need to. I know other ways of fighting. Who said this needs to be a sword fight? I decide instead to make it a hand fight—what I am best at.
As she slashes again, this time I step aside, and instead of slashing, lean back and kick her hard in the ribs.
It works. She wasn’t expecting it, and she keels over. The crowd goes wild.
Without giving her a chance to recover, I reach over and grab her by the back of the hair and knee her hard in the face.
She drops her sword as she falls back, landing on her butt, then on her back, her nose broken. She lies there, dazed and confused. She hadn’t expected me to turn this into a fist fight.
The crowd screams like crazy, standing on its feet.
I take a step forward, and hold my sword at the tip of her throat. I have her beat. I can kill her easily now if I want to.
“
Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!” the crowd chants.
As I stand there, the wound in my arm hurting, a part of me feels betrayed, and wants to kill her. After all, if this were me down there, wouldn’t she kill me?
But I see her staring back at me, and I think of Charlie, without a sister, and a part of me just can’t bring myself to do it.
“
Do it,” she smiles. In that moment I realize that she wants me to. She’s had enough: she wants to die.