“You might still manage to buy a ticket to the game if you hurry.”
“In the arena?”
“Yeah, where else?”
I don’t like the thought of sharing space with so many people, and it’s not like I can learn anything valuable from watching people fight while others shout and cheer. “I’ll pass.”
We continue making small talk, and I casually mention having a missing friend who got into trouble with the local authorities recently. “Do you have any idea where I might find him?”
The bartender crosses his arms. “Well, depends on the crime. If it’s serious, he might be hanging from a streetlight close to Civic Center Park.”
I shake my head, feeling nauseous. “It wasn’t that serious.”
“Then he might be in jail near Union Station, or maybe they made him meat for the games.”
“Meat for the games?”
He frowns. “You’re acting like you haven’t been at the arena before.”
I shift in my stool. “I don’t like crowded places, and my work mostly keeps me out of town.”
“Well, they make criminals fight in the arena in all sorts of wild ways. If you do end up going to watch, remember to keep your weapons at home.”
Since Hector was the one who brought Caden here, I can’t imagine he would make him fight in the arena with criminals. I leave novas on the counter and decide to call it a night. As I make my way to the entrance, I hear someone say, “We better get going if we want to make it in time.”
“Damn right we should,” an older woman with spiky hair says. “Ain’t no way I’m missing that hot Defender in action.”
“Mom, don’t be gross!”
I freeze, wondering if I heard them right. I ask, “Is there a Defender fighting tonight?”
The woman smirks. “He’s an ex-Defender now, and yeah, he’s fighting.”
I hurry outside, where the night air is chilly against my warm skin. I take a deep breath, trying not to get my hopes up, but who else can it be? I know where the arena is, but I first hurry home to store my gun and knife like the bartender said I should. It’s a couple of hours’ walk to the arena, but I don’t have time to spare, so I hail one of the buggies that drive people around for nova. I instruct the driver to take me to the arena, and he spends the next twenty minutes yapping about how much better the games have become with Hector in charge.
I barely listen, my brain clogged with too many thoughts. I’m worried there might not be any more tickets left, but in that case, I’ll have to convince someone to sell me theirs. There is no way in hell I’m not getting inside that arena.
“Stop!”
The driver hits the brakes, and I smash against the front seat.
“What the hell?”
“Wait for me a minute.” With a shaky hand, I fumble for the handle and exit the buggy. We’re downtown, where everything is noisier and smells worse. On one of the buildings, there’s a massive billboard with a real photograph and text that says,“Don’t miss out on our CHAMPION in action! Only in the arena!”
The photograph is of a New-Human standing on a sandy arena floor, the dead bodies of men and wild animals spread around him. He’s raising his fist in a shout, his pale chest covered in others’ blood.
“Hey, do you wanna make it there on time or not?”
I return to the buggy and remain quiet and troubled until the arena lights glow in the distance. Once we park, I pay the driver and climb out. Like I hoped, there are still a few tickets left. I buy the most expensive one to sit close to the arena floor, then I join the line and find my seat, amazed by how many people can fit into one place. There’s a sense of excitement in the air while I sit quietly and hold my stomach anxiously.
Loud music plays in the background, and the conversations around me all mix together. I wasn’t lying about not liking crowded places. They make me feel small, like I might getcrushed. I wish there was a breeze in this place, even though it’s not hot.
The music suddenly stops, and the crowd goes wild. I stand up with the rest and follow everyone’s gaze until I find who they’re cheering for. A handsome man with long, dark hair and a stylish beard waves to the crowd. He’s sitting close enough for me to see his profile clearly. As if on cue, everyone begins to chant,Hector! Hector! Hector!
I didn’t have a clear picture of him in my head, but I expected someone more rugged-looking. He lets them chant his name for about a minute before he gestures for everyone to sit back down. When he speaks, his voice is carried throughout the arena by loudspeakers. “Proud citizens of Denver, are you ready to be entertained?”
The cheers are deafening. On my chest, the vial pendant stirs restlessly. I pull it out and bring it close to my ear.
