The Change: Episode one (6 page)

"Stop! Don't!"

The older female, her mother, pleaded with
me, and I answered her the only way I could. I broke the Indian
girl's neck and let the body fall to the benches.

"No!"

The mother shrieked in agony, the sound
piercing my head, and we threw our knives at the same time.

Hers sank deep into my shoulder, sending an
unwelcome rush of heat into my arm as blood splashed my clothes...
again.

My blade was stuck in her throat, and I
didn't stare at her stunned face as she fell. Nor did I remove the
knife from my arm, choosing instead to stride to an unstained bench
and sit down.

I turned my attention to the restarted match
and a medic moved warily my way. In the corner, I could hear the
scanner whirling out a third star on my ID and I grinned. Those
still watching me let out a cheer at my reaction.

2

Word spread faster than I'd
hoped. Now it seemed I was the
only
one to kill, and the attempts grew
bold.

I eased the door to my room open, knowing
someone was waiting for me. I hadn’t seen anything, but I felt it
just the same. The room was dark - I’d left the light on - and I
immediately rolled to the floor.

I kicked the door shut, throwing us into
darkness again as something sailed by my head. I registered the
silenced shot as it hit the door and snatched the first heavy thing
my fingers landed on.

Guns were one of the few weapons contestants
were forbidden to use, and I reacted as if on a run. I tossed the
object to my right, drawing fire, and then lunged at the flash
point.

The next shot missed me by inches as I
slammed into a heavy body and immediately found a throat. Feeling
the gun turn, I jerked the assassin over and into the side of the
stove, knocking dishes to the floor.

She sprang to her feet, eyes glowing solid
red as she dove for my throat. I swung the pan I’d found next to me
and she dropped to the floor with a head-splitting noise that told
me it was over.

Instead of backing off, I used the attack
for an outlet and hammered her mercilessly with the cast iron pot
I'd used to make my meal.

When I had my rage back under control, I
dumped her body outside the door, thinking it was very convenient
that the guards hadn’t heard anything. I knew better than to accuse
them, though, and enjoyed the shock on their faces. They’d thought
someone else would emerge from my door, and I grinned, finding
their anger amusing. So was the resentful menace from my blonde
hall-mate, and I enjoyed the thought that she may now be viewing my
abode in the same manner I did hers.

The next attempt to eliminate me came as I
slept. Through the vents, and making so much noise that I had no
choice but to let the guards in. It counted in the Games if they
died in the assassination attempt, but if they were caught doing it
in an illegal area, they were arrested and a replacement contestant
was drafted.

Not wanting to seem like they were shirking
their duty (or maybe not paid-off this time), the guards got to her
before I could, and she was arrested for breaking the rule. I'd
rather they had let me kill her so I would have been one fight
closer to Daniel’s freedom, but I said nothing as they dragged her
limp body down the hall after clubbing her unconscious. We were on
the Network’s dime here, and I was very aware of what they had over
my head. I could only hope that they weren’t.

3

When sunrise came, I was ready.

The noisy woman's replacement faced me in
the cage after a wall screen interview by a short, bald female who
I guessed worked as a guard when she wasn't filling in for
chicken-shit reporters. She took it all in stride, not responding
to or faltering on my sarcastic barbs, and I left for my match
disappointed. Maybe the Network had my number on that one…
maybe.

"Cage Match Two!"

Replacement girl was the Karate Teen. Her
wide nose and crooked chin said her training to get this far hadn’t
been easy. As she came through the fenced area, she did an
impressive set of kicks and jumps that pleased the crowd and showed
me where she'd be unprotected, revealing her weak spots. I might
take a hit or two, but she would go down hard and not get back
up.

As usual, I was impassive
to her moves, her hissed threat as we met at the dividing bar in
the center. Cool and calm, I was getting my head set, picking my
responses. She stood between me and what I'd come for.
She would move!

I took her off guard from the ring of the
bell, turning as if to run. She was in the air for a nasty
head-kick when I spun back, clawed hands reaching out.

Karate girl struggled against the iron grip
I had on her throat and ankle, and I slammed her down on my bent
knee… as hard as I could.

Crack!

She went limp, head lolling, and I let the
body slide to the mat as I stood.

"Match to Pruett!"

The rage was a blood red haze over my sight,
and I growled in fury as I saw the menacing blonde in the balcony.
She would be a real fight… "More!"

I hadn't meant to challenge her, but I
roared in anger when she turned away from me. Her disinterested
attitude enraged me and I struggled to control it, to keep from
flipping out in front of the whole world.

The cheering was so loud!
My head thumped painfully, and I shoved my way into the quiet of
the hall, escaping the bloodlust, but not the guilt. I'd prepared
for everything. The attempts, the schedule meant to weaken,
distract. I'd even hardened myself enough to ignore
him
. What I hadn't
counted on was my guilt, my burning shame.

The four guards hung back,
unsure of my mood. Perhaps they understood, but it was unlikely. I
didn't feel bad for killing. I felt bad for enjoying it so much…
for being so
good
at it.

4

Not scheduled for anything else until
nightfall, I chose to spend the time with Angelica and my parents
in their spacious rooms and I headed that way.

The Network complex was immense. Set in what
had been New York, one side of the ten mile dome was lined with the
waves that had slowly crept closer over hundreds of years. Inside
these stone and glass walls, thousands of lives were affected
daily. From the Games and Network jobs, to the renting and breeding
programs, this covered compound was like a city inside a city.

I moved carefully through the door, and the
hotel-like staff shrank back as I passed, recognizing me. They were
carrying two slender body bags, and I grinned in return. The
Pruetts were survivors - all of us.

"It was amazing. She sent two of 'em out in
bags!"

My Father's excitement made it hard to reign
in my impatience with the slowly crawling hours.

"She can hunt with us now.” I confirmed it
again. Angelica had been on our bounty-hunting crew for years,
working for a share we all donated. If the Network had known, we
would have been arrested, including her.

"Please..."

My Mother's distress pulled him to her side
and drew a comforting hand on her cheek that made my heart clench
with longing… and anger.

Angelica shrugged at the praise, busy
watching through the velvet curtain. These rooms had windows, all
covered in narrow iron bars, but the view of New Network City was
blocked by the hazy smog from the factory-type operations allowed
to operate under the Dome. The Network had a hand in just about
everything.

"Angelica glanced at me before turning back
to the window. “Good practice..."

Her mutter was too low for my parents, and I
quelled a nod of encouragement. Angelica didn't have a mate to
rescue, but she did have something that had served other winners of
these games well - the Change.

Not soon enough, I left for my next
interview and grinned widely at the part-time guard, part-time
reporter waiting for me. With her shaven scalp gleaming in the
lights and her broken nails in plain view, I thought maybe I had
her pegged now.

I leaned forward as the camera flashed to
green, catching us in what I hoped seemed like an intimate moment.
"You smell good. Like honey and cherries… the ripe kind."

My tone was a caress. "Bet you taste good,
too."

Her eyes cringed, a secret exposed to the
listening world, and I blew a kiss as she stormed from the set.

"Next."

5

"Cage Match Three!"

The round was called as I stepped through
the door, leaving me little time to evaluate my opponent and I held
myself under tight control at the sight of her.

She was lean, dangerous. Her muscles rippled
like a cat as she flexed for the crowd, and I placed her as the
contestant from the jungles of Georgia. On the belt around her
black-clad body was a thickly studded club and I noted the pointed
edge of her boot, which probably contained a blade.

The bar slid down, and I didn't react when
she drew the spiked club, headed my way. I preferred a more
hands-on type of killing, as she was about to learn.

I'd always been good at hiding my emotions,
my reactions, until the last possible second. Her thick club was
inches from my head before I ducked and slammed my hardened fist
into her abdomen with a vicious upward twist that snapped something
inside.

Jungle woman grunted, spiked-club falling
from her grip and into mine. I smashed it into her head, feeling
her skull give way.

Blood and gore splashed from the spikes as I
ripped the club free, sending me into that rage I still sometimes
couldn’t control, and I began to swing repeatedly...

“
Match to
Pruett!”

This time, I was prepared for both the rush
of fury and the guilt as the crowd went wild, and I grinned, giving
them what they'd begun to look for.

I was almost halfway through the contestants
now. The luck of the draw had been with me, sending me against each
new challenger first, until I defeated three in a row or failed
once. Now the public would vote on the matches, or maybe the
Network would rig them. From this view, it was hard to see a
difference.

The Network

“
What if she
wins?”

“
Plans are in
place.”

“
I hope they’re really
good. ‘Cause she is.”

“
She’s a Pruett. Did you
expect less?”

“
Yes, frankly, I
did.”

Silence for a minute as the two rulers
watched the chaos outside, from the top tower window of the
complex. A family of rebel sympathizers was being stoned in front
of the Justice building, and the noise outside the dome was almost
as loud as that of the crowd still celebrating the last Game
inside.

“
Maybe you should tell the
Bombshell she needs help.”

A harsh snort. “She’s the best we’ve got
right now, other than Rankin.”

“
Rankin is busy… but the
reporter’s aren’t.”

“
Those
spineless…”

“
Are under Network control,
are they not?”

A thoughtful pause. “Yeah. Maybe. The ones
she’s embarrassed might.”

“
The Bombshell will know
the right ones. Just make sure she gets the hint.”

“
What about the
rebels?”

The ranking council member gave a grin that
Candice would have recognized for the violent warning it held.
“Plans are in place.”

The other member didn’t argue. With the big
meeting coming up, anything could happen. The East and West coast
only met once every 30 years. The next line of leaders was supposed
to be chosen in two months, but the East had a surprise for her
sister Network. Sharing control over this wild land was no longer
an option.

Chapter Four

Day 4

1

I watched the percentage go up on the
Defender and the Bombshell and felt my wires tighten another notch.
The crowd had seen enough of me for the first matches. They wanted
someone different spilling blood, and I already hated the wait.

“
We’re just about to see
our two matches of the day, folks, and good morning to you! It’s a
warm here in New Network City, almost 65 to start spring off
right…and our first name for match one is…The Korean
Killer!”

My nerves loosened a bit, thinking she’d be
a decent fight to start my day with.

“
She’ll be facing…
Mutt-girl!”

I sighed, stepping over to grab a quick meal
while I waited to hear the second match. The first one would be
played an hour from now, but the second wouldn’t be until
dinnertime, to please the working crowds that gathered around their
screens while they ate.