“Paul,” I hear the woman say.
Before I can tell her to keep quiet, I notice that Hector has stopped talking. He looks from side to side with a scowl, as if searching for someone.
Shit. I slide lower into my seat, covering the necklace underneath my shirt. After a few stressful seconds, Hector shakes his head and smiles, though there’s tension in his face.
“We’ll start off by giving those who wronged our city a second chance at life,” he says. “The last two survivors will get their freedom back—if they don’t bleed out. Good luck!”
People in rags enter the arena, looking terrified. They hold something silvery in their hands. I squint, my mouth dropping when I recognize scissors. I hope that every one of them is evil,that they did something horrible to end up here, but I don’t know for sure. All I see are terrified people.
When Hector shouts through the loudspeakers to begin, they stay frozen in place, looking dumbstruck. It only takes one man to lunge at another and stick the scissors into his neck for chaos to erupt. I look away and focus my gaze on Hector, who’s watching the bloodbath with a somber expression. Is he wondering about the strange feeling he got earlier? Does he suspect an old part of his past is close by?
I manage to block out the bloodbath on the arena floor until it finally ends. The bodies are dragged away, leaving blood on the sand. One man survived, but he’s bleeding heavily from cuts on his face.
People in uniform hurry inside and place what seem like long, inflatable swimming pools across the arena floor. Once they arrange them randomly, long hoses are brought in to fill the pools with boiling water. As people begin to cheer, Hector announces the main game of the night between House Miller and House Powell. He calls for the fighters of both houses to come out.
I grip my knees, watching as shirtless fighters holding sticks step out from both sides of the arena. At the sight of Caden, I cover my mouth. He’s alive, and he seems… majestic. He walks with confidence, showing no signs of pain even though his skin is marked with bruises. His dark blond hair is longer than usual, and with his short beard, he looks like a lion.
He raises his hand to wave to the cheering crowd. When he turns around, my mouth drops at the sight of scales coveringmost of his back, looking like part of his skin. It must have hurt like hell.
I have to refocus myself when Hector explains the rules. Fighting is only allowed with sticks or fists. For every rival who’s brought down, a team gets one point, but if they dunk someone into a boiling pool, they get two points. Death will only grant a team half a point, which means killing is not recommended but also not forbidden.
I count twelve fighters on each team, and people next to me say it seems like a combination of level-two and level-one fighters, though I don’t know what it means.
Then the fighting starts. I expect to see chaos erupting like the previous game, but it’s more calculated. Each team tries to move as one without rushing. House Powell has clearly chosen Caden to lead, since he’s the one dictating their speed and direction.
I jump to my feet—as well as everyone else—when every fighter from House Miller suddenly starts to run in a different direction. They’re trying to surround House Powell, which is crazy because now each of them is an easy target. Caden doesn’t take the bait, but some of his teammates look around in concern. The fighters of House Miller move again to form small groups while still keeping House Powell surrounded. If Caden and his team try to attack one of the smaller groups, it will leave them vulnerable from other directions.
People in the crowd grow restless, with someone next to me shouting,“Don’t let the damn water get cold!”
Caden turns to speak with the rest of his team, and when he turns back, there’s determination in his eyes. Seconds later, alltwelve fighters of House Powell break into a run in the same direction. Unsurprisingly, the fighters from House Miller take off in pursuit, but they are not fast enough to catch up. House Powell’s fighters smash into two of their opponents, easily overpowering them.
House Miller is down two fighters now, while the twelve of House Powell have the wall behind them, making it impossible to flank them. Before the rest of House Miller’s fighters can regroup and plan their next move, Caden’s team charges at one of the smaller groups, hitting them like a mighty wave and taking them down.
The rest of House Miller’s fighters choose to charge as one, likely out of desperation since the numbers are not in their favor. Bodies clash and sticks smash down on unprotected flesh. Two of House Powell’s fighters grab one of their rivals and throw him into the boiling water, even though they’re about to win without the need of extra points. The crowd goes wild as the man screams and struggles to climb out of the pool. The moment he’s out, he gets a kick to the head that takes him out.
Caden dodges most incoming attacks, and those that land don’t seem to slow him down. When he punches someone in the face, teeth fly from the man’s mouth. He moves to face another fighter who tries to tackle him, sending him flying like a doll.
I stare in shock. None of this seems normal, but people act as though they’ve been expecting this demonstration of strength from Caden.
Then it’s over. House Powell wins with nine fighters still standing.
Hector congratulates the winners and says, “Did our ex-Defender deliver tonight?”
The crowd roars, and Caden waves. I know him well enough to tell he hates every second of this, and I’m relieved to see it’s still him underneath the role Hector is forcing him to play. Though why the hell did he bring him all this way just to fight in this arena remains a mystery. I’ll need to think about it once I’m not surrounded by so many people.
As the fighters leave the arena, the crowd walks toward the exit. With so many moving bodies, it takes a while before I’m finally breathing fresh air. I decide to walk instead of paying again for a buggy because walking helps me think better. After about fifteen minutes, I’m no longer walking among a herd of people. The streets are quieter, but drunks walk in and out of nearby bars, smashing bottles on the floor and talking loudly. I walk faster with my head bowed, avoiding making eye contact. I don’t have my weapons with me, making me think I should take a buggy after all, but I can’t see one close by.
The moment I’m home, I’ll send a message to the others and let them know that Caden is alive. Explaining what the hell he’s doing here will be more complicated, but maybe they will have an idea about Hector’s motives.
I’m about to leave the bars behind when someone walks past me while drinking from a bottle. Our eyes meet for a second, and that’s enough to send a jolt of electricity down my spine.
I sharply look away and continue walking, unable to hear the sound of my own footsteps because my heart beats so loudly. I could be wrong about who I saw, but there was recognition inhis eyes. Bobby. He was part of Derek’s gang before joining Clint once the two brothers split into two gangs.
If Bobby’s here, does it mean that Clint is too?
I push the thought away. People change gangs all the time, and it’s been almost two years since I last saw either Bobby or Clint. A million things could have happened since then, and Clint could be dead for all I know.
I still have a long walk to my house, and there is no buggy to be seen, maybe because they are all occupied by the people who left the arena. I wonder if I should run, but won’t that be suspicious and draw attention? I let out a breath and tell myself that Bobby has already forgotten about me. I’m nothing but a face from his past.
