Savage Run Book I

by E. J. Squires

  11

  It takes me some time, but I’m finally able to relax. Somewhere between sleep and consciousness, I hear the captain announce that we’re on our final descent into Volkov Village. I bring my seat back up and stretch my arms above my head, yawning.

  “Good nap?” Nicholas asks, already awake.

  I force a smile, not quite sure how to act toward him after I offended him.

  Mai pulls out her toiletries and freshens up her makeup again.

  “Why didn’t you just stay home, Imp?” Johnny stares at me from his seat.

  “Imp?” I ask.

  “Yeah, you’re impeding us from focusing on what’s really important about the program,” he snarls, and then proceeds to snort a laugh.

  “And what is that, exactly?” I ask.

  Johnny scoffs. “Honor and might—the motto of the Savage Run.” He rolls his eyes.

  “I’m curious to know, how is he impeding that?” Nicholas asks.

  “Thanks to him, the program has become about something else entirely: giving allowances to the weak. Problem is, Petunia, who will they love once you’ve died three minutes into the first obstacle? The answer is someone who is strong and exemplifies what the Savage Run and the Master class are all about. Someone who entered for honorable reasons.” Johnny picks his teeth with a toothpick.

  “And what honorable reasons are those?” Mai asks, powdering her forehead.

  “Well, I don’t know why anyone else entered, but I entered so that I could support my sickly grandmother—provide her with a better life these last few years she’s alive,” Johnny says.

  “Honorable indeed, but everyone is an equal participant with equal rights.” Mai’s voice is monotone.

  Johnny huffs. “That’s not true. He’s detracting from the integrity of the event.”

  “What is your problem, exactly?” Mai snaps.

  “My problem?” He unbuckles his seat belt, stands up, and yells, “Am I the only one who takes this seriously? Am I the only one who sees how this cream puff is making Savage Run into a gag show?” Johnny points at me.

  It turns so quiet that I hear nothing but the hum of the plane’s engines.

  “Sit down at once or I will…,” Mai starts.

  “If you feel that threatened by Joseph, then how can you expect to do well compared to the other participants?” Nicholas asks.

  Johnny gets a sour expression on his face. “I’m not threatened; I’m sickened. And I’m just speaking what everyone else is thinking.”

  “I wasn’t thinking that, were you?” Nicholas asks me.

  I can’t help smiling a little. “No.”

  “Me neither,” Arthor says behind me, squeezing his face between Nicholas’s and my seats.

  Johnny huffs loudly and turns to Nicholas. “Just because you and that bitch Mai don’t see what’s going on doesn’t—”

  He can’t finish his sentence before Mai shoots to her feet, wrings Johnny’s arm behind his back so it makes a cracking sound, and pins him to the floor with her foot on the back of his neck.

  “Owww…,” he wails.

  “Rule number one,” Nicholas says, bending down toward Johnny. “Never, never, never upset Mai.”

  “Say you’re sorry,” Mai insists, pulling his arm back harder. “Say it.” Many participants are out of their seats, their eyes glued to the scene.

  “Sorry…sorry,” Johnny’s barely able to whimper.

  Mai flings his arm to the ground, gets back in her seat, and proceeds to apply makeup as if nothing ever happened.

  Without a word, Johnny climbs to his feet, walks down the aisle, and locks himself in the bathroom.

  While everyone else starts to laugh and talk among themselves, Nicholas leans over and whispers, “Once you get out into the obstacle fields, stay away from him.”

  “He’s not allowed to hurt me, is he?” I whisper back.

  “Out there, there will be no telling whether you died from one of the obstacles or at the hands of another. It’s survival of the fittest—and meanest—and Johnny fits into both of those categories.”

  Arthor pokes his head between our seats again, his red, unruly hair clinging to the fabric. “I’ll help you, Imp,” he whispers.

  Although I don’t approve of his comment, it immediately puts me at ease. “Seriously? You’re going to call me names, too?” I turn toward him and produce a generous frown.

  “No, sorry. That was a bad joke,” Arthor says, his eyebrows crinkling.

  “Good, because if you’re not careful, I can come up with some pretty crazy nicknames for you, too.”

  “Oh, really? Like what?” he asks.

  “Farty Arty.” I grin.

  He grumbles at the unwelcome reminder of the primary school nickname. “I see how it is. Tit for tat.”

  “Gotta stand up for myself.” Peering out the window, I see Volkov Village. From what I’ve read in the Daily Republic, the floating city will house the participants in Savage Run and travel around to different continents where the obstacle courses will be taking place. The perfectly round oceanic city used to be gray, with oil stains around the edges and on the docks, and made up of squat iron buildings. It was the very city that brought General Volkov and his Unifers to our country sixty-six years ago. A few years later, after President Volkov Sr. had completely restructured our society, it was turned into a cargo ship carrying crude oil, goods, and Laborers to different parts of the world. When the rest of the world rejected the notion of tiered societies shortly after, they put pressure on President Volkov Sr. to conform. He flat out refused and immediately made it illegal to trade or do business with any other nation. President Volkov Sr. had structured Newland to be 100 percent self-sufficient, so it didn’t affect us. And when President Volkov Jr. took over, he continued on as his father had done before him. However, the leaders of the other nations were dependent on Newland’s supply of oil—the only known oil left on the planet—and asked him to reconsider. He told them to go to hell.

  Now, the city is quite changed from what it used to be, with skyscrapers in the middle and shiny metal buildings gradually shrinking the closer they get to the outer edge. In fact, it looks like an upside-down spinning top.

  But there’s something I hadn’t expected to see around the city on the water. Barges and tankers—ships that carry crude oil—are leaving the docks. “Where are the ships heading?” I look at Nicholas.

  “Thanks to Savage Run, the hosting countries will have their share of oil for an entire year.”

  “Why did he create the Savage Run, exactly?”

  Mai interrupts and points. “Volkov Park, named after…I’ll give you one guess.”

  I wonder if her intrusion was intentional. Do they think I’m asking too many questions? I look at a bare steel area at the edge of the city. In the center of the park, there’s a statue of a man holding his right arm out in front of him. The statue must be gigantic, since I can see it all the way from here.

  The aircraft flies past the city and does a U-turn, after which it descends rapidly and lands on the water. After the plane touches down, it glides for a while before arriving at the front of a dock. The captain turns off the seat belt sign. I take a deep breath and try to ignore the butterflies attacking my stomach.