by Jack Hammond
Wesley strode across the arena, still not summoning his weapons. As the Overseer had announced the start of the clash, Wes was a short distance away. She raised the gigantic sword above her head; the blue aura had become a blinding pulsating light. Unimpressed by the young girl’s manifestation he continued to advance. The blade cut through the air as she brought it down. The energy snapped and sparked before thudding into the Colosseum floor. A plume of golden sand filled the air. Wesley’s simple sidestep, enough to evade the feeble strike. Still unarmed Wes ducked, the girls second attempt sliced above his head. The gasp from the crowd expressing just how close it was.
The momentum took the youngster full circle; the weight of the giant blade was difficult to control. Wesley continued to move in closer, trying to get beyond the shimmering blue sword. She tilted the blade on its edge and took a deep breath from within metal the helmet, preparing for her next swing. She drew on every ounce of power; this next attack was all or nothing. The amphitheatre could sense it too, a gasp filling the colosseum. Wesley could feel the burning energy drawing closer; he even heared the crackling of the aura over the gasping crowd. Wes adjusted his stance and lifted himself into the air; a cheer went up as Wesley’s acrobatics elated the masses. His body back flipped effortlessly over the powerful strike.
The second he felt his feet touch the sand, Wes conjured his hammer. An instant inferno appeared as he swung the blazing weapon at his opponent. The heat and power slammed mercilessly into the manifestation's helmet. The metal folded around the steel hammer as the follow through smashed into her face. Everyone reeled as the challenger tumbled across the arena. The sound of metal crunching on metal was met with shock. She continued to roll over another three or four times, before her body finally struck the Corinthian stone and vanished.
Wesley was already walking away; he didn’t even look to see if his opponent had survived his strike. Wes left the arena and faced an array of discerning looks from the other fighters. He paid no attention and declared loudly at the top of his voice. “Okay, who’s next?!”
No one answered.
“Come on, who’s next?” he shouted again.
Turning to Alwin he shrugged. “They were queuing up a minute ago.”
“Yeah, but that was before you destroyed that poor girl out there.” Alwin told him honestly.
“What in God’s name is up with you, Wes?” Sadie demanded an answer, “Are you on something?”
“What are you on about?” Wesley replied. He acted like nothing happened.
“Out there!” she shouted pointing to the sand. “That was out of order.”
“I accepted a clash and won.” He told her.
“Come on Wes, you did more than just clash her.” Alwin added rolling his eyes at his casual reply.
“You guys realise I want to challenge those elite,” he stated. “I will not do that playing about. I had a job to do, and I did it.”
“Bad news is you need ten wins to challenge,” Darren said joining in the conversation. “Nobody will fight you after that little show.”
“Wes, you’ve screwed yourself.” Alwin remarked bluntly.
Wesley just laughed out loud. “We’ll see, tomorrow they’ll be queuing up again.” He replied confidently as he made his way from the pit. “See you tomorrow, nubs.” He called out as he vanished.
Sadie threw her hands into the air. “He’s lost it.”
“I expected a display like that against Perry, but that girl didn’t deserve that.” Darren said.
“No way did she deserve that,” Alwin agreed.
“I don’t understand why he’s changed so much.” Patrick said. “From one extreme to the other.”
“Who knows?” Sadie answered shaking her head. “He’s blown it anyway, he needs four more wins and no one’s going to take him on now.”
“After that display, no chance. No one here is crazy enough to risk taking him on.” Darren sighed. “He really has blown it, his chance of facing the Elite has just crashed and burned.”
Alwin patted Patrick on the back and with a wink said, “We’re next.”
“Oh, boy!” Patrick exclaimed.
“Just have fun. I’m nowhere near as powerful as Wes, I can’t do what he just did.” Alwin coached him, “Get a feel for it, give them a bit of a show.”
“Okay. I’ll do my best.”
“You’ll do fine Paddy.” Darren added.
“Yeah, just enjoy it Patrick.” Sadie said with a smile.
The two of them parted ways, leaving Sadie and Darren together. Turning to her he raised an eyebrow. “Any idea why wonder boy lost it again?”
“Not a single one, I really thought after last night he had it under control.” She winced. “Guess I was wrong.”
“It was bad, I mean that hit. Whoa, that was too much for an echelon ten, let alone a poor four.”
“I don’t know if I should go around tomorrow.”
“I wouldn’t.” Darren replied swiftly. “I’d give him time to cool down.”
“You think?” she asked.
“Yeah, talk to him tomorrow night.”
“You’re probably right.” Sadie agreed forcing a smile, and the pair moved to the aperture to watch Patrick and Alwin’s clash.
Turning on the lamp, Wesley swung his legs out of bed and perched on the end. Today hadn't been a good day, he confessed to himself. The argument with Luke, his reactions in the colosseum, he knew he was not in control. After today's events the only thing Wesley was concerned with was the man who'd been arrested because it left him in a quandary. Now the stranger was gone, who would supply Wesley with the cheats?
Was this selfish? He asked himself silently. He didn’t care if it was; he wanted to keep winning inside the arena. The sketch book, the stranger, they were all linked somehow and if he lost his connection to whoever or whatever was guiding him, how could he defeat the Elite? How could he win? Wesley furrowed his brow as he recalled what he had been told in the arena. How he had screwed himself, how no one would clash him now. Wesley shook his head dismissing it. Of course someone would challenge him, next time he would go easy on them and everything would be back to normal. He tried to convince himself it would be, but a part of Wesley didn’t believe it. Alwin’s statement was true, he was screwed. Not just if no one clashed him, but if they did, once he reached the Elite who would help him now?
Wesley took a walk downstairs to get himself a glass of water and returned to his room. All he could think about was the stranger who Luke had followed; he hadn’t been worried for Luke’s safety. Not because he was sure he wouldn’t be hurt but deep down he didn’t care. Wes froze mid-step, that wasn’t true, was it? Had he become that cold? When did that happen? When did he become this person? Luke was his best friend; he had never been so close to anyone, how could he just not care about him suddenly? Something had changed in Wes’ life. It wasn't just the Colosseum or the stranger, but something else. Wesley just hadn’t noticed what happened. He sat at his desk and opened his sketch pad, he needed four more wins, he told himself. Defeating the scrubs of the arena was easy, he didn’t need help with that. Wes knew he was overpowered compared to them, it wasn’t a challenge. But reaching the Elite had become a rockier road.
A thought occurred to Wesley, the answer to his problem. If they were right and no one would fight him now, he still required four more wins. A grin crept eerily across his face as he said the names out loud, “Darren, Alwin, Patrick and Sadie.” He almost laughed. All he needed to do was get them to clash him and then he could challenge the Elite. Would he have enough to overcome one? Were they as strong as him or stronger? He guessed he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
It was almost midday when Wesley finally got himself out of bed. His feet dragged along the landing, reminding him of a zombie as he lugged himself inside the bathroom. Ten minutes later a refreshed Wesley Finton exited, it was amazing what a splash of water and some soap could achieve in such a short space of time. He made his way down
stairs thinking it was best to make an appearance before his mum or dad had to call him.
The sound of chattering from the kitchen caught his attention long before he opened the door. Sat at the table was his mum, dad and uncle Chad. They all greeted him with a smile, Wesley’s mum jokingly adding. “Didn’t think you were getting up today.”
Wes didn’t reply, he just pulled a sarcastic face.
“So how’s things?” Chad asked with a sly grin.
“Yeah, they’re good.” He lied, things were far from good.
“Want some breakfast?” Joe asked.
“No thanks. I’ll just get a drink.”
“You and Luke okay now?” Holly couldn’t resist asking.
“No, we’ve fallen out completely now.”
Holly and Joe both exchanged disappointing looks; they'd hoped the two of them would be back to normal by now.
“You’ll fix it, Wes,” Chad began. “A friendship like yours recovers from things like this, you’re not his nemesis.”
“His what?” Wes asked, not catching his last word.
“Nemesis, his archenemy.”
“Yeah, guess not.” Wes replied unconvinced.
Holly collected up the cups from the table and put them in the sink, before placing a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder. “What’s it all over?” she asked.
“Doesn’t matter now, it’s done.” He replied negatively. The three of them looked back and forth at each other; each one's look as discerning as the next.
“I’ll talk to him.” Chad said leaving his seat and following after his nephew. “Wes, wait up.”
Wes rolled his eyes and turned, “What?”
“All this stuff that’s going on. The stuff with you and Luke, your sudden attitude change. Is it anything to do with the books I gave you?”
Wesley was stunned he had seen his change. They had only seen each other a few times; he didn’t think it was that noticeable. Then again, Chad was very astute, if anyone would notice it would be him. “It’s nothing to do with that.”
“Okay, good.” Chad said sounding somewhat relieved. “Take a seat, we need to talk.”
Wes didn’t argue, there was no point. This conversation would happen, either with Chad or his mum and dad, best to get it out of the way.
Chad started, “This thing with Luke, how serious is it?”
“Serious.”
“Can you give me a little more? Maybe I can help?”
“It’s done, we won’t be making it up.” Wesley admitted, it sounded weird saying it out loud.
“Listen to me, Wes. Nothing can’t be fixed, nothing that has happened between you two cannot be resolved,” Chad explained. “Time is a great healer.”
“I can’t see it uncle Chad, really I can’t. He was mad as hell.”
“That’s because it has bothered him. If he didn’t care he wouldn’t have got mad.”
Wesley thought for a second, that actually made sense. “I guess.”
“Do you want to make it up?” Chad questioned.
“Of course, it’s just I lied to him. He knows I did. I’m not sure if…”
“Give over, lies are nothing.” Chad interrupted, dismissing his comment. “I lie all the time, heck I just lied to your mum and dad about seeing a film the other day.” He shrugged. “I have no idea why, I just did.”
“That’s not the same kind of lie that I told.” Wes explained. “The one I told wasn’t a white lie.”
“It was a whopper, huh?”
“Oh, yes.” Wesley confirmed.
Chad leaned forward. “Doesn’t matter,” he said quietly. “I can you help make it up with him.”
Wesley thought for a moment. Would reconciling with Luke be such a good idea now? “How?” Wesley asked anyway.
“Sadly it’s a long drawn out process.” He admitted to his nephew.
“Okay, go on.” That suited Wes, he thought.
“One day he'll need help,” Chad began. “Maybe tomorrow, maybe next month, maybe next year. But eventually he will need a friend, someone to help him out.”
“How will I know when?” Wes asked.
“He lives around the corner, you’ll hear things.”
“So I just wait?” Wesley seemed disappointed, “Doesn’t sound like a great plan to me.”
“Trust me.” Chad said confidently. “Times a funny thing Wes. You might think that a year or two is a long time until you’re looking back. Then it feels like minutes.”
Wesley didn’t think much about his helpful advice, the wait and see plan didn’t instil a great deal of confidence in him. “Can’t see it myself.” He admitted honestly.
“You need to believe, when it strikes, you’re ready. That’s the key to life Wes, be prepared.”
“Isn’t that the Scout’s motto?”
“They may have taken it off me,” Chad smiled. “There will be a point when he needs you Wes. When he needs a friend.” Chad went serious for a second. “You need to be that friend.”
“Okay if he needs me I’ll be there. But that doesn’t mean we’ll be friends.”
Chad explained. “I’ve been there myself, trust me. Whatever you did, it will be forgiven.”
Wesley spent the day in his room, only venturing out for a snack late on. He had avoided his mum and dad so luckily no more awkward conversations to dwell on. Although he'd not considered what his Uncle had said. After all, his helpful plan was basically playing the waiting game. Wes had to allow enough time to pass until Luke had forgotten or forgiven him for his transgressions. Wesley had only thought about how he handled tonight. If no one clashed him, he would need to make an attempt at getting Sadie, Darren and Alwin to clash him. He figured Patrick owed him one, so he was more or less in the bag. The struggle as he saw it was Darren. He was the one who would cause him the biggest hassle. Could Wesley approach the subject with them? Would they even be expecting it? Wes played out a few scenarios in his head and tried to find a way to broach the subject with Darren. He wouldn’t want to clash Wesley because it would hurt his pride to lose, but he needed him to. Wes knew he needed a reason to convince Darren to fight and save face at the same time.
An hour or two must have passed and Wesley was no closer to figuring out a strategy to get all four of them to clash him. “Damn it!” he snapped angrily as he knocked a few books off the edge of his desk. Wesley stood and looked at himself in the mirror. Had he really changed that much? He asked himself. He still looked the same, but even he couldn’t argue he felt different. Did this happen to everyone as they grew up? That wasn’t possible, he had never heard of people suddenly becoming cold, less caring and distant like he had over night.
The Elite shadows sat above them all; with the Overseer as if they were better than everyone. Wesley knew he could beat one of them given the chance, he could become an Elite. He stared long and hard at himself. For a split second he saw a dark shadow behind him. Wesley shook his head hard and nervously turned around. Nothing. Then he looked back at the mirror, he must have imagined it he told himself. For a moment Wesley could have sworn a vaporous shadow stood behind him, not too unlike the Overseer in the Colosseum. He didn’t need to worry about tonight. He wouldn’t have to ask the others to clash, he was sure someone would challenge him. Of course they would, he was the best
Chapter Fifteen
The blue Honda civic turned onto the industrial estate just before one in the morning. Slowly rolling to a halt, it idled for a few minutes before the engine went dead. The noise from the motorway could be heard in the distance, this time of night it was all haulage firms taking advantage of the empty roads. Paul sat in the driver’s seat, waiting. Not for someone to arrive, but for him to ready himself. Tonight was a big deal for him. With everything happening if he stopped to think, he was sure his head would explode. He had to focus solely on freeing a wanted man.
Paul looked at the dark road ahead and felt his chest sting. Wincing, he gritted his teeth and then he wondered if the person who had cut h
im had been in this very same situation. Perhaps the man who had broken into his home, had sat outside debating his choices. It didn’t matter; Paul was doing this for his family’s safety. The man he had spoken to had given him assurances and for some reason against his better judgement he actually believed him.
Earlier today when he and Sarah Mather had first seen the man, that’s when he had found out he was being used. If he hadn’t had heard Sarah say they were behind the kidnapping of the young boy, Paul wouldn't be here. Ordinarily he would be here to arrest the man. Instead he was sitting here trying to figure out how he would expedite the prisoners escape, keep his cover intact and take care of the rather large man, who obviously wasn’t a minimum wage security guard. He took his phone out of his pocket and switched it to silent; the last thing he wanted was the Rolling Stone’s foiling his plan.
Ruben made his way up the estate. To his right were some empty trailers, the back doors left open to stop thieves breaking in thinking it had anything of value inside. To his left the metal grey fencing that surrounded the units. Paul paused as he reached the gate and scanned the area in front of him. The Mercedes was still parked outside in exactly the same place. All the other parking spaces were empty, only Paul, the prisoner and the bald agent were here. All the security cameras were pointing directly down at the front of their respective properties. No chance Paul would be caught on any CCTV footage by accident if they were even working. As a police officer, he knew a lot of these security systems were for show, in an attempt to dissuade criminals.
Paul crossed the tarmac, not bothering to duck or hide in the shadows. He just casually strolled towards the roller doors of the unit. He took a deep breath and then banged his fist on the shutter, the rattling noise reverberated around the estate. Paul didn’t wait long, the roller doors moved upwards. The sound of metal on metal clanking as it reached about seven foot high. Then he was face to face with the huge bald headed agent.
