Arena One: Slaverunners (Book #1 of the Survival Trilogy)

by Morgan Rice

I’m not sure if I’m dead or alive. My body aches more than I could imagine, and I wonder if this is what it’s like to be on the other side. Somehow, I feel as if I’m still alive: if I were dead, I am hoping it would not be this painful.

  I peel open one eye and see I am lying, face down, on a metal floor, in a darkened room, lit by red emergency lights. I look up, and struggle to make out the shape before me.

  “Brooke?” a voice asks. It is a male voice, and I know I recognize it from somewhere, but can’t remember where.

  “Brooke?” he asks again, softly.

  I feel a hand on my shoulder, gently prodding me.

  I manage to open my eye a bit more, and finally recognize the face: Ben. He leans over me, gently prodding me, trying to see if I’m alive.

  “This is for you,” he says.

  There is the sound of plastic scraping against the metal floor, and I am struck by the smell of food. But I’m too groggy to look at it, and I don’t really register what’s happening.

  “I have to go now,” he says. “Please. I want you to have this.”

  A second later there comes the sound of a door opening, and light floods the room. There is the sound of marching boots, chains, handcuffs being released. Then footsteps recede and the door closes, and as it does, suddenly, I realize: they have just taken Ben away.

  I want to raise my head, to open my eyes, to call out to him. To thank him. To warn him. To say goodbye.

  But my head, too heavy, won’t lift, and my eyes begin to shut of their own accord. Moments later, I fall back into a heavy sleep.