“You’ve reached a point where your presence is enough to get the crowd excited.”
“Then why did you bring the others?” I glance around me at the fighters from the other houses, each of us wearing different colors. I’m the one sitting next to Hector.
“You’re smart enough to figure it out,” Hector says, his eyes never leaving the bloodbath below us. Masked prisoners desperately search for a victim to kill in hopes of remaining the last survivor. The biggest cowards—or maybe they’re the smartest ones—try to stay low next to the surrounding walls, while others walk across the arena waving their little knives.
When I start to feel bad for them, I remind myself that they are all Raiders, and I should save my pity. I’ve also seen enough death and gore in the weeks I’ve been here to turn apathetic about these games, though this one seems crueler than usual.
“You’ve brought the others here so it wouldn’t look like you’re playing favorites,” I say before taking another sip of beer. “But you’re only letting me sit next to you because youdoplay favorites.”
“Correct.”
“Flattered.”
“You’re not, but that’s fine. We can leave the petty politics to me. Let’s see… we’re left with the ones who were smart enough to hide, but it’s time to speed things up.” He takes the microphone and turns it on. “It seems we have eight… hmm, brave contestants left!”
The crowd laughs, and I put down my empty bottle of beer, wishing for this to be over so I can grab something to eat. Hector will likely invite me to his apartment so he can prepare something, and that’s fine since he’s a good cook. Besides, I’m in no hurry to return to my uncomfortable bed with dozens of snoring men.
“Since we don’t have all night,” Hector continues, “it’s time to take off your masks and start proving you are worthy of freedom!”
The smarter ones get rid of their masks in an instant. A woman who struggles with hers is jumped by a man who stabs her a dozen times before she finally dies. On the other side of the arena, two men are fighting on the ground and stabbing each other. Another man is smart enough to take advantage of the situation and runs toward them. He slices the throat of the man on top right when he stabs the one below him through the heart.
The smart killer looks around in search of other opponents, his eyes wide in fear.
A bomb goes off in my chest.
There’s no way in hell.
I stand up, blinking hard because there must be something wrong with my vision, but I’d recognize that bruised face anywhere.
“What’s wrong?” Hector asks. “Your heart is about to burst.”
I ignore him and focus on the two men running toward Finn. He tries to run between them, but the man whose throat he sliced isn’t dead yet. He grabs Finn’s ankle, making him trip and fall to the ground.
Even though I’m not supposed to fight today, Hector’s gift is still in my system. With only seconds to react, I jump down onto the arena floor. The crowd gasps as I sprint forward and slam into one of the running men. He flies through the air, landing hard enough to break his arm and maybe his neck.
The other man hasn’t seen me yet. He’s about to reach Finn, who’s dumbstruck enough to stare at me instead of defending himself.
I’m not going to make it in time.
I scream,“Kill him!”
Finn shakes his head, and right when the man is about to reach him, he pulls the knife from the heart of the dead man next to him and shoots his hand up, stabbing his attacker in the stomach. The man drops his knife and stumbles onto Finn. The two of them struggle on the ground.
I reach them in time to pull the man back from Finn, but right when I’m about to break his neck, Hector’s voice appears in my head.If you want him to win, let him do it properly.
It takes me a moment to understand what he means. I’ve already sabotaged the game, but I haven’t officially broken any rules. The only rule is that the winner be the last one alive after killing his final opponents.
“Get up,” I tell Finn. “You need to kill them.”
“What?”
“If you don’t kill them, you can’t be the winner. Get up and finish this.”
He struggles to his feet, bruised and shaken, covered in blood that likely isn’t his.
With cold efficiency, he stabs the man on the ground in the throat, not waiting for him to stop thrashing before rushing to the other man I sent flying earlier. That one proves more of a challenge, but with a broken arm and without a knife, Finn ends him quickly as well. The crowd remains dead silent despite the gory display.
When it’s all said and done, Finn stands up and watches me with tears cutting paths through the blood on his cheeks. I should go to him, but something tells me to stand still. I’ve already given Hector ammunition by showing how much I care, and I don’t wish to make it even worse.
