Oxley and Raven blocked Bear from prying eyes as they sat him at their usual table.
‘This is fucked up,’ said Oxley quietly.
‘Maybe it’s to test Bear,’ said Raven. ‘They might get a thrill watching him having to protect her.’
Oxley huffed. ‘What kind of twisted person would put their kid in harm’s way just for that?’
Bear sat straight, showing no signs of fear. Whatever the reason was for the change in the Zone, he would stick to his end of the deal and make sure Scarlen stayed safe. If they were trying to mess with him, they would get no entertainment from him. He’d been there once before. He knew the Zone now. Besides, they fucked up. Varklee’s name was called, along with a member of the Pirates. Their precious game would be over quickly. With opposing gang members in the game, he shouldn’t have to fight at all.
PART II
THE WAR ZONE
10
The rules were simple. Five minutes to find a dagger and hide. No strikes until the second horn blew. Only one-on-one fights. Don’t interfere. Don’t get killed.
With her heart thumping deep into her ears, Scarlen stood in line, waiting for Mr Kane to give the order to run into the evergreens, the only shelter, a sanctuary in yet another prison, one of twenty-foot fences filled with lightning going towards the deep-blue sky and low beneath the soil and shrubs. There was no escape, and no way back into the building. Not until someone died.
‘Claiming ain’t for gaming,’ taunted Varklee, but Scarlen daren’t look his way. She already knew she was fair game. Perhaps even the Rebel himself would turn on her.
Kane went over the rules once more as he edged towards the cross-barred door, but Scarlen had her concentration firmly on the woodland. Who was to say how big it was that side of the island, and where would be the best place to conceal herself from the enemy? Not near the pond, that was for sure. At least the darkness was on her side, that and the fact there was a Pirate and a Flame. Surely that would give her a chance.
Against her better instincts, she stole a glance at Bear. His face set to neutral, eyes forward, feet in position to run. Good idea. She steadied herself while wondering if they would be told to go back inside any moment. It was wishful thinking. War Zone existed, and her father was going to make her take part in the twisted game. The thought of him watching sickened her to the core.
The memory of her father leaving her in one of the sandy forests when she was ten years old hit hard. He did it again when she was twelve, then fourteen. Alone, afraid, no food, no water, and made to find her way home. Had he been training her for this moment? Had he always planned to place her on Horstal Island?
The first horn blew, startling her from her nightmare. She hadn’t even heard Kane leave, and the inmates had a two-second head start, thanks to her memory haunting her, perhaps trying to save her.
The damp earth kicked up as she sprinted into the tall trees, and some rustling and cursing was all around, as a scramble for weapons was priority. Where would the daggers be? Stabbed into trunks, buried under the slosh of wet leaves, the bottom of the pond?
Scarlen ran on and on, scouting the dense area that darkened further in, footsteps were heading further away, and voices became muffled the longer she was out there, sweat and fear already taking her body hostage, but she couldn’t stop until the only sound was her breath.
If being stranded in a sandy forest as a child had taught her anything, it was how important energy was in the wild. There was only so far she could run in the forest anyway, and now away from immediate threat, she could slow, shift some foliage, and absorb her surroundings. Ten blades. One allowed. But therewas no telling if someone found another dagger, they wouldn’t toss it in the pond or hide it somewhere else.
There was nothing to see, not in the thick of it, so she climbed the nearest tree, reaching high to the thinner branches, knowing they could hold her small frame, hoping the creaks and cracks wouldn’t be noticeable.
Adjusting to the uncomfortable seat, Scarlen looked around, spotting the tips of the security fence in the near distance as the beacon from one of the towers stroked over the metal on passing, then something else shimmering of metal caught her eye.
There in the next tree was a dagger, sticking out of a groove where the branches thinned to twigs. The trees were quite close, so if she shuffled carefully, she could climb over and settle, knowing she had some protection.
Her sweatshirt caught on the sharp limbs of her hideout more than once, taking tiny bites each time, and her cheeks were scratched and sore as she balanced along a thicker arm leading into a cluster of dark leaves and more bristly branches. The slightest scent of butterscotch filled her nostrils as she tugged the blade from the bark, closing her eyes for all but a moment to rejoice in relief. She wasn’t about to be hunted down. Not now. She knew how to use such a weapon, and she knew how to survive in woodland, for a few days.
The second horn blew, the sound of a ship in the fog, but thick mist wasn’t her danger. The War Zone had started, and she was both predator and prey, whether she liked it or not.
Jamming herself into a nook to prevent slipping, Scarlen couldn’t help but drift back to how it had taken three days to find the palace when she was twelve. Her father must have taken her deeper into the forest that time, as before it had only taken two days. Two days without water. The heat in the south unbearableduring the day at times. And the green trees only helped cool the shade a little.
Without moving her head, she glanced around. Had her father been able to watch her back then? Was he watching through the witch’s eye now? Did he want his powerful friends to see how strong his family was?
Milon.
So much about her brother had changed. Once fun and cheerful, now distant and cold. She hardly knew him on the rare occasions she got to see him. She had always put his altered personality down to their mother and little sister drowning. But with more thought, it seemed likely Horstal also played a role in taking his soul. Well, it wasn’t going to take hers.
Scarlen mentally laid out all the information stored. Ten inmates, one was Bear, one a male Pirate, two young lads from Green Block One, and one girl and boy from Amber Block One, all looked so young and scared enough to just hide. Two women from Amber Block Two, then the unhinged one, Varklee, who she thought should be in Red. He seemed the most likely murderer out of the group, which was saying something considering they had a Rebel among them, and they had such a bad reputation.
Wynter came to mind. She was so nice, and nothing like the horrible things Scarlen had been told by her people. And then there was Bear. Complicated, unreadable, both danger and calm in his gaze, depending on which way he was looking. She knew of no other to have that ability. No other to confuse her so.
A shiver ran down her spine as an icy breeze rippled through the treetops. It was going to be a long night, and it would have been a lot better if she could remain hidden until daybreak when it would be easier to see, but with only one hour of stillness allowed at a time, she would make the most of her hideout. With any luck, the final horn would blow soon, and they could all sleepin their cells. But if the inmates were as smart as her, they too would wait for better light. No doubt at the pond, when thirst would have them visit at some point.
