by Nancy Isaak
“They’re ours,” Alice said, as Erroll’s hand slid toward his gun.
“We watched this place for over an hour before we came in,” I said, impressed. “Never saw one of them.”
“That’s because they’re dug in,” Alice explained, with some pride. “We use this winery for meetings every once in a while. Our sentries have their positions pretty secure by now. I don’t even know if I could find them and I know the guys are there.”
“So, this will be a safe place if we need to talk again?”
“Just make sure it’s before Halloween. After that…if the revolution doesn’t happen—war is coming—and it’ll probably be too late.”
“And you’re absolutely certain that the Naval Station guys will fight with the Crazies?”
“They signed the treaty,” Alice nodded. “And they took the girls.”
“For a bunch of paranoids, the Point Mugu guys opened up their gates pretty damned quick when they saw they could have female slaves,” growled Cherry. “And by the way—that was Orla’s idea—of course.”
“She called it a negotiating ploy,” said Alice.
“And she gave them Misty Callahan!” added Sue.
“Our Misty?!” I asked, astonished. “From Science class?”
Sue nodded. “It’s because Orla always hated her. Because Misty’s so much prettier. And her hair may be red, but it isn’t brassy like Orla’s. I know that’s why Orla did it—because she was jealous.”
I looked to Alice for confirmation; she shrugged. “Probably.”
Sue sniffed. “I am right.”
As we reached the main gate, two Stars emerged from the bushes at either side and walked toward us.
Meanwhile, Alice turned to Sue and Cherry. “Time to sheet up, girls.”
With a quick flick of her wrists, Sue shook out the sheet she was carrying and placed it over her head. There were two holes for her eyes and she had to tug the sheet this way and that to get them perfectly positioned.
Cherry, however, took her time putting on her sheet. As she did, she hummed the theme song from the “Caspar, the Friendly Ghost” cartoon.
I couldn’t help but grin.
“You think this is funny?” sniped Cherry, as she flung the sheet over her head. “It’s humiliating and degrading.”
“Then, come home,” I told her.
“Shaddup,” she said. “You’re not my boss anymore.”
All so very Cherry…God, I had missed her!
* * * *
There were another two Stars waiting where the trail diverged—one track heading toward Malibu, the other curling in the opposite direction, up and around the mountains, eventually making its way into Westlake Village. As we stopped there, I tugged on Alice’s elbow, pulling her just out of everyone’s hearing.
“For the sake of argument,” I said, quietly, “let’s say that we do have someone suitable to take on Brandon.”
She looked down the hill toward Erroll. He was standing between Sue and Cherry—all three of them staring back up at us.
“He’s strong,” noted Alice. “And way bigger than anyone we’ve got. If Erroll’s got enough training, he might stand a really good chance.”
“Look—I’m not saying it would be Erroll…but I’m not saying it isn’t. What I do want to know is how you’d even get a challenger into that Arena without Brandon figuring out what’s up? Like how do we know that whoever wouldn’t be caught before he even got anywhere close?”
Alice kept her voice low. “Our plan is to take him in as one of the slaves. He’ll still have to register ahead of time as one of the challengers, but that’s done by the owner, so nobody has to see his face or anything until he’s inside of the Arena. Most likely, whoever’s at the gate won’t even look at his face—they’ll just check this.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to me. “I was just about to give this to you anyway—just in case. Brandon will pick only one challenger out of all the challengers. And every challenger will get a specific number that has to be in the middle of a new tattoo that’s been designed just for the Arena.” She tapped the piece of paper she’d given me. “Cherry’s drawn the tattoo on that—so you’ll be able to put it anywhere you want on your guy. Personally, we think it would be best if it’s on his back. Then, whoever checks the tattoos will be looking at your guy’s back and not his face, right.”
“Brandon is using a tattoo to mark the challengers?”
Alice nodded. “Well…the White Shirts actually. They say it’s so they’ll know who’s legit—so no faker gets anywhere near Brandon during the Arena.”
I opened the paper, looking down at the tattoo that Cherry had drawn. It was an elaborate circle made of fire, with an empty spot in the middle.
Alice pointed to the blank space. “Right there…the challenger will get their number sometime before the Arena, and that’s where it’s supposed to get placed.”
“Why the number? And why this whole tattoo-thing anyway? Why are they complicating things this way?”
“Orla again…she’s been telling Brandon that just fighting and killing does nothing for us as a tribe. That we have to make a big production out of the Arena to make it legitimate. She says that’s how you give the whole thing credibility. Like if there’s a specific way of doing things—and if only certain guys get to challenge Brandon for the leadership by following special rules—then it’ll mean more to the tribe and be more exciting.” Alice’s lips twisted as if she’d just sucked on a lemon. “Orla said that it would be a way of establishing new traditions. She calls it pageantry over policy.”
I folded up the piece of paper and tucked it into my back pocket. “So, if we do send up a challenger, they’ll be one of many. And it won’t even be guaranteed that Brandon will pick whoever we send up—because he’s only choosing one guy to fight with now.”
There was a certain desperation in Alice’s face. “We really believe that the bigger the guy, the better chance of being chosen by Brandon. Like to make better entertainment, right?”
“But you can’t be certain of that.”
“No, that’s true,” Alice admitted. “But we’re also going to be seeding the stands with our people. If it looks like Brandon is going for a smaller, weaker guy, we’ll start calling out. Like our guys will start yelling out your guy’s name. Brandon will have to choose him then. Otherwise, he’ll come off looking like a coward.”
Alice looked back down the hill at Erroll. He was leaning against a tree, arms crossed, waiting. “God, your guy’s ripped!” whispered Alice. “Look at those muscles in his arms.”
I patted my back pocket. “If we decide to do this, do you want us to put the tattoo on before we send the challenger up?”
Alice nodded. “It’s a complicated tattoo, but Cherry said that you’ve got a guy down there who can do it.”
“Wyatt.”
“Then, yes…do it before Erroll comes up. It’ll give him more chance to heal before he fights. Just make sure that this Wyatt-dude leaves the center empty for the challenger number. We’ll add that ourselves, the day before the Arena.”
I stubbed my boot into the ground, pushing up clods of dirt. “You’ve got to be prepared for one thing, Alice. I’m not saying Erroll is coming back up—I’m not saying he isn’t. But if we do send someone up—and I mean, whoever we send up—you don’t challenge our choice. Because it might not be Erroll, so you’ll get what you get—and you don’t fight it. If you can’t agree with that, then we pull out right here, right now.”
“But you know Brandon,” Alice groaned, unhappy. “So, you know your kid has to be big and tough—the biggest and toughest you’ve got if he has any chance of surviving.”
“If you don’t agree, we’re done here.” I said again.
After a long moment, Alice nodded her agreement. “Just remember—we got maybe one chance at this, Kaylee.”
With a wave of my hand, I pushed on by her. “Well, now you’re just annoying me.”
* * * *
It was difficult letting go of Cherry; she had to physically push me away.
“Dude,” she griped, “we already did this dance!”
“I’m hugging you for Shawnee and Wester,” I told her, trying not to cry.
We were standing midway, along a wooded hill. Alice and her Stars were waiting farther up the rise; Erroll was on the downside, sitting on a rock and munching on a granola bar.
“What’s this?” I asked Cherry, pulling at her right hand. There was a small star tattooed between her fourth and pinky finger. “You’ve really become one of them, then?”
Cherry shrugged. “Consider it camouflage.”
“Man, I can’t believe you’re actually working with Brady Bob. I mean, who would have thought it?”
“Don’t get me wrong,” said Cherry. “Me and Alice are never going to be BFF’s or anything. We just got, like this working thing going.”
“Slave and master…right.”
Cherry’s brow furrowed in displeasure. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
For a moment I didn’t say anything—just grinned—then I felt my heart begin to ache. “I don’t want to leave you here, Cherry…I want you home with your brother and sister.”
She reached out and gave my hand a squeeze. “I’m doing this for them, Kaylee. And for all of you—because I have to—because these guys have to be stopped. Because if they aren’t, if they’re allowed to continue—then Shawnee and Wester will never be safe. You know that, right? Of everyone—I know that you understand.”
I nodded.
“Good…then you go back to the Point, and you do whatever to keep my brother and sister and everyone else safe. If that means leaving—evacuating—then do it. Whatever your choice is, I’ll understand and I’ll respect it.”
“And if we do evacuate—you remember everything that I told you?”
“I’ll find you,” she assured me. “Wherever you guys go, I’ll be right on your tails.”
“Because if you don’t show up, you know I’m going to come looking for you.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
We shared one last, brief hug, then headed off in opposite directions.
After a few steps, however, I turned back and called out to her. “I don’t care how you manage it…but you get a message to Connor. You let him know everything we talked about…and you let him know how happy we are that he’s still alive…and you let him know…” I became so choked up, I couldn’t continue.
“You’re such a baby!” Cherry grinned at me, waving me off. “Go home to your Barbie Dreamhouse, Kaylee. Time to let the big girls fight this war now.”
She was just teasing—but still…was she ever wrong.
* * * *
Our return journey took Erroll and me twice as long as expected. There were small pockets of Crazies throughout the hills that had to be evaded. Some of them seemed to be digging in, establishing sentry points. Others were just moving through—as if they were on patrol.
I hoped that they weren’t looking for us.
When we finally reached the bottom of Encinal Canyon—after having stopped to pick up our horses and the letter we’d left behind at the checkpoint—Erroll and I felt safe enough to travel in the open. We trotted out onto the Pacific Coast Highway, waving to the nearest of our own sentry positions, as we started on the final leg toward the Point.
“It’s getting dark,” said Erroll, after a few minutes. “Past suppertime.”
“Don’t worry. Sophia will save us some dinner.”
“Look—over there!” Erroll pointed up ahead, to where two figures were sitting together at the side of the road. It was hard to see exactly who from this distance, but my heart began to beat faster in the hope that one of them might be Jacob.
“You can’t tell anybody, Erroll,” I said, quickly. “Not that we went up to the winery…not that we saw Alice and Cherry…not that we might be sending someone into the Arena. You absolutely can’t tell anybody anything about that, about anything that we did today—because we just visited the sentry posts, right? That’s all we did—and we looked for Crazies in the hills, to see what they’re up to. No more than that, okay? That’s our story and we have to match.”
He nodded. “You think we might have a Crazy spy in camp?”
“These days it’s safer if we always think that. But it’s not just about spies. The more people who know about us maybe sending a challenger into the Arena, the more they’ll get into the middle of it. Like maybe even trying to go there themselves and take on Brandon.”
“You mean, like Jacob.”
“Please, Erroll…Jacob absolutely can’t go into the Arena! And if he finds out what’s going on, you know that he’ll be determined to be the challenger. I’m sorry—I love Jacob, but there is no way he’s gonna’ win against Brandon…just no way!”
“Then, send me.”
“Honestly, I don’t want to send anyone, not unless I really believe they’ve got a chance at winning. And I’m just not convinced right now.”
“Brandon and me are almost the same size,” Erroll argued. “I know I can take him!”
“No, you don’t know!” I said, shaking my head. “Because it’s not about size with Brandon. Well, I mean it is…but it’s more than that. It’s about viciousness with him…about being willing to fight in the most evil, horrible way—to take a life without any second thought…without any hesitation.”
“And you don’t think I could do that?” asked Erroll, straightening up, his chest puffing out with defiance. “Because I could—to save this tribe!”
“Which is one of the reasons I just don’t know if I can send you. Because you’re one of the good guys, Erroll…one of the kind ones. And I need to send someone up who can match Brandon mentally—someone who can be completely vicious when they need to be, who won’t hesitate to rip him apart if they get the chance.”
“You really think you’re gonna’ find someone like that in our tribe?” he asked, somewhat petulantly. “Someone who’s as big as me and who’s as mean as you’re saying?”
“There is someone,” I acknowledged. “Not as big as you—but who can definitely be vicious when it’s needed.”
Erroll sniffed, unimpressed. “If you’re talking about Jude—Brandon will take her down in seconds. She’s just not strong enough.”
I didn’t answer him; instead, my eyes were focused on the two figures coming down the highway. While we were talking, they had risen up from where they had been sitting and were now making their way toward us.
From the way one of them rolled from side-to-side on her swollen ankles, I had no doubt that it was Florenza with Pauly.
“No matter what you think…say nothing to anyone!” I hissed at Erroll. “The choice is mine to make—only mine!”
Erroll had just enough time for one quick nod before Florenza and Pauly reached us. As we got off our horses, their eyes traveled over our dusty clothes, the sweat on our brows, the nervousness on our faces.
“You are so up to something, mami!” Florenza immediately accused me. “You didn’t tell any of us where you were going or nothing.” She followed this by turning and glaring at Erroll. “And you—you got guilty written all over your face! If I didn’t have eight pounds of baby pressing down on my bladder, I’d beat it out of you, mijo.”
Pauly laughed at the sudden, uncomfortable look on Erroll’s face. “You stepping out with Mother?! Because Kaylee’s husband might have a thing or two to say about that!”
Even I had to laugh at Erroll’s response. His head swung back and forth between Florenza and Pauly in horror, and he began to stutter. “N-no…god, no! I mean…I…I...w-wouldn’t…not w-with…her!”
I shook my head, pretending to be hurt. “Sadly, I am too old and ugly for Erroll.”
“Th-that’s…n-not…I mean!” Erroll looked like he was blushing, but his skin was so dark that I couldn’t be quite sure. “Y-you’re…g-gorg-eous. N-not th-that…I
…”
“You think I’m pretty?” I asked him, sweetly.
Florenza poked me in the arm. “Mami!” she admonished. “You are so being worse than me. Let the poor guy free.”
With a chuckle, I raised two fingers and drew a cross in the air. “Go with the goddess, young Erroll,” I chanted. “You are hereby released to Sophia’s cooking.”
Without another word, he got back on his horse and immediately took off, trotting toward the Point.
Meanwhile, I turned and placed my hand on Florenza’s belly. “How’s our baby doing?”
“He makes me fart a lot,” she grumbled. “I think he is a very rude baby, just like his father.”
“Guilty,” said Pauly—looking anything but. “I do like to fart. Of course, she’s the one who keeps pulling my finger.”
Florenza glared at him. “Because I keep thinking it’s something else! Like it’s the same size, papi, so I’m getting confused, right.”
“Oh, you are so going to pay for that!” Pauly pressed gently on Florenza’s belly, positioning his hand, so that the baby pressed even more into her bladder.
“You stop it!” screeched Florenza. “Oh God…now I really gotta’ go!”
She took off, waddling at a furious pace—heading for a large bush at the side of the road.
I turned and whacked at Pauly. “You did that on purpose!”
“It was too easy. She always needs to pee these days. Porter says it’s because the baby’s only a couple of months from being born.”
“Our tribe is having a baby!” I said, happily—placing my arm around Pauly’s and pulling him in close. “You’re going to be a daddy and it’s going to be so amazing!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered—pulling away from me. “Stop trying to be distracting, Kaylee, and tell me what the hell you and Erroll were up to.”
“Nothing,” I shrugged, trying to look innocent. “We just went up Encinal to check on the sentry positions.”
“Gone a long time for that.”
“Well, the truth is…we went a little farther, okay…to check on the Crazy activity in the canyon.”
