by Cheree Alsop
Iggy had zoomed in on the same picture in the next image, showing only the bowed face of the boy with the blade. A tear slid slowly down his cheek, his eyes shut tight as though to block out what he had done.
The next slide showed two teenage boys in brutal combat. One held a wickedly spiked mace sideways above him and slid across the arena floor on his knees while the other leaped into the air, dark wings open and his back arched as he brought a sword down toward his opponent.
I stared at him. Time stood still as I remembered the weight of the sword in my hands, its pommel cold and smooth in my grasp. “That’s me,” I said quietly.
“What?” Brie asked, but Nikko and Iggy nodded their heads.
I pointed needlessly to the boy in the air, poised for a deadly strike. “I remember that fight.”
Brie touched the screen; her fingers lightly grazed the bleeding gash down the forearm of the black-haired boy. She glanced back at me and her gaze lingered on the matching scar. She shook her head and I saw tears in her eyes. She turned without a word and left the room.
“Brie,” I called after her.
Jayce touched my shoulder. “Let her go. She’s dealing with some hard stuff.”
I stared after her, my chest tight. “Yeah, because of me.”
Jayce’s grip tightened and he turned me to face him. “Because you’re worth it,” he said; his tone gave no room for argument. “All of this is worth it if it keeps you out of the Arena and out of that again.” He pointed at the screen.
I didn't have a reply.
“The way I see it,” Iggy spoke as though nothing had happened. “The best way to catch the biggest audience is to show this during the Blood Match.”
The others nodded and though it was still a few weeks away, I had to agree. All the statistics showed that viewers nearly tripled during the biggest fight of the season where the best fighters from earlier months fought to the death. It was what we as Galdoni prepared for our whole lives, and what I had found out many viewers saved a year’s wages to gamble on.
“Can it be ready by then?” I asked, trying to push the images I had found on the internet of the last couple of Death Matches from my mind.
“Definitely,” Iggy replied. “Add more slides, some heart-wrenching music, and a gripping note at the end, and I think even Vegas would have to agree that this is wrong.”
***
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” I said, watching a group of kids run by at breakneck speed with a small football.
“Sure it is,” Jayce replied with a grin. “The Doc said you needed to experience student life, and what’s more student life than a football game?” He handed a couple of dollars and our student cards to the bored young man at the ticket booth who handed back the cards and four tickets.
“Besides,” Nikko said from my other side. “Zach invited you and it would be rude not to show up.”
“I just feel like we’re pushing it.” We were jostled through the gates and I stared up uneasily at the crowd filling the stands on either side of the aisle.
Brie took my arm reassuringly and we walked together up the shallow steps to the top. “It’ll be fine. You might even have fun,” she said with a teasing smile.
I settled beside her on the hard metal bench and watched the red and yellow team run through stretches and cardio exercises. Across the fence on the practice field, the other team in black and green tossed a football and performed several drills.
“And you get to watch the cheerleaders,” Jayce said, nudging me with his elbow. “Especially Kara and Katelyn.” He gestured to two blondes at the end of the cheerleading row shouting warm up cheers to the crowd. Several boys on the front bench yelled the cheers back at the top of their lungs.
“Looks like you have competition,” I said.
“No one is competition,” Jayce replied, leaning back on the bench with a dramatic sigh.
Brie just rolled her eyes. “Boys.”
I glanced down the aisle and saw Dane making his way through the crowd with his two minions close behind. He was a few seats away when he looked up and met my gaze. His eyes widened and he stumbled back into his companions. They looked from him to me and they both tensed; all three then turned and disappeared into the crowd. I focused on the field, but kept a look out in case they returned.
A whistle blew and the game began. It took me a while to forget about Dane and keep my attention on the game, but the defensive and offensive tactics appealed to my battle sense. It was interesting to see the way Zach avoided the rushers and threw the football without getting hit. His defensive line was shorter than the other team, but they made up for it with aggression.
“You’d make a good football player,” Nikko observed, his feet propped on the bench in front of us.
I laughed. “I don’t know if the pads would fit.”
Jayce leaned forward. “Imagine what kind of a game it would be if they could fly!”
A lady in front of us with long black hair piled on her head and strict black glasses glanced back disapprovingly. Jayce sat up and turned his attention back to the game.
I had learned about football from several professors at the Academy who were obvious enthusiasts, but it was different actually watching the game in person, feeling the rush when a running back carried the ball past the defenders, hearing the roar of the crowd when a team scored a touchdown. I thoroughly enjoyed the ballpark hot dogs Nikko bought, and Brie shared her purple cotton candy with everyone. I even got caught up yelling some of the cheers back at the cheerleaders with Jayce.
I began to see similarities between football and the Arena battles. Each side had supporters and people who wanted to see the other team fail; I even saw money exchange hands on more than one occasion. Each side fought for honor, and gave their all no matter how hard the going got.
Then Zach went down after a hard hit and it took him several minutes to rise. I stood up along with the rest of the audience and waited while his medical team attended to him. I wondered if the crowd for the other team hoped he would stay down, but when Zach rose back to his feet and waved at the audience to let them know he was alright, a roar of relief went up from both sides of the small school stadium.
I looked at the people around me, wondering how they could be so relieved that Zach wasn’t injured, but could watch a television show where the entire goal was for one of the contestants to die. It was hard to push the thought aside and enjoy the rest of the game.
Our team won by a close margin that had everyone standing on their feet and yelling by the time the game was over. The Warriors ran off the field triumphant, shaking hands with the Cobras in a show of sportsmanship I found amazing considering the fact that they had lost. I wondered briefly how it would be if the Arena battles ended without bloodshed and the winner shook hands with the loser, each leaving the dome with their lives and dignity still intact.
Brie saw some of her friends across the field and left to talk with them for a minute. Jayce and Nikko made their way to the cheerleaders; I leaned against the fence by the field and watched their fumbling attempts to strike up a conversation.
“What’d you think?” Zach asked.
I turned to find him in sweatpants and a Warriors tee-shirt. “It was amazing,” I said honestly. “You were great.”
“I have a good team,” Zach replied. He tossed me the football he was carrying. “Here, let’s play.”
I shook my head and tried to give it back. “I’d better not. You’re probably worn out from the game and I don’t want to draw any attention.”
“Hey,” he said with a grin. “If I was worn out, I wouldn't have given you a football. Give it a try.”
He held open his hands and I threw it underhand into them.
“Come on, now,” he said with a challenging grin. “Give me your best.” He stepped back a few yards and threw me a tight spiral.
I caught it against my chest and he jogged back over to me. “Catch it like this,” he said, holdi
ng his hands out with his fingers close together but not touching to create a buffer for the ball. He tossed it up in the air and caught it on the way back down to demonstrate, then he backed up and threw it again.
I caught it the way he had shown me, then chucked it awkwardly back at him.
He shook his head and returned to my side. “Hold it with your fingers between the laces toward the end of the ball, like this.” He showed me his grip, then put my hand on the ball the same way. “The laces keep your grip firm and if you flick your wrist as you let go, it’ll give it the tight spin.”
He backed up again and I threw it softly. It spun in a slow spiral and he grinned when he caught it. “Perfect, now put some zip into it!” He jogged further down the field, then threw it at his full speed; it stung my hands when I caught it.
I threw it back faster this time and the ball barely wobbled in its spiral. He threw it back and yelled, “I know you’re stronger than that. Show me something!”
I took a breath and stepped into the throw, putting my full strength behind it. The ball zipped toward Zach like a dart to a dartboard, and his eyes widened as he reached out to catch it. The ball hit his hands, and the force of it drove it back to his chest. His breath left him in an audible whoosh and he staggered back a few steps. He stared at the ball for a second before jogging slowly back to me. I glanced over and saw several younger kids watching me with wide eyes and open mouths. I walked to meet Zach.
He handed me the ball, then rubbed his hands together. “Geesh, man. That was a rocket!” He looked me up and down. “I need to get you on the team. Of course, Coach would probably replace me with you, but dang!”
I shook my head with a grin. “I don’t think the uniform would fit. Besides, we’ve gotta give the other team at least a chance.”
Zach laughed so hard he had to double over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
***
The next morning someone had written a word I didn’t recognize in black marker on the front of my locker. I grabbed my Biology book out, then shut it to show Jayce who was standing nearby. “What does this mean?”
His eyebrows lifted slightly, but he shrugged. “It’s just another way to say hello.”
I looked at it again skeptically. “Are you sure?”
“Sure I’m sure. Someone’s just being friendly.” He glanced back at the locker again, then threw his arm over my shoulder and steered me to class. “Brie’s waiting. We don’t want to make her upset by being late.”
I entered the classroom and nodded at Dr. Ray as we passed his desk on the way to our seats. “Hello, Dr. Ray,” I said, but I used the word from my locker in the place of hello in an effort to expand my vocabulary.
Dr. Ray stared at me, his eyebrows lifted. He then tapped a pencil eraser on his desk and glanced at Jayce. “Is this your work?”
Jayce shrugged, his cheeks red, and hurried to his seat.
A smile touched the corners of Dr. Ray’s lips. “Kale, there are some words we don’t use at this school. That happened to be one of them.” He threw a look at Jayce. “Next time, if Jayce tells you to say something, don’t.”
I nodded, fighting back a smile as well, and went to my desk. On my way past Jayce, I smacked him on the back of the head. “Hey!” he said.
“You mean hello?” I asked, leaning down to say the word quiet enough that Dr. Ray wouldn’t overhear.
Jayce’s mouth fell open and he stared at me, then he started to laugh. He rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I mean hello.”
“Jayce!” Dr. Ray growled from across the room.
“Sorry,” Jayce said, ducking his head to hide a laugh.
I chuckled and took my seat.
***
I fell back from the others when we walked to school the next morning. Red and gold leaves drifted slowly from the trees and twirled in a breeze that smelled of rich earth and the promise of cold. The air carried a crisp bite to it that I had never felt before, and I held each breath in my lungs as long as I could.
The early morning sky was pale blue with a blush of pink between the trees as the last of the sunrise faded. It was such a contrast from cold cement walls, metal bars, and stone-faced guards that I wanted to stop and watch the progress of night into day in order to catch each nuance of a world I had never known. It felt like every second the day changed to something new and completely different from the moment before.
A bird sang above us; I was searching for him between the thinning leaves when a shoulder jostled me back to the present. “What I’d tell you! Three numbers. Read them. Three!”
I stared at Jayce. “What are you talking about?”
“Did you call them?” Nikko challenged. “Probably some mental institution or a school for the emotionally dwarfed.”
Jayce glowered at him. “For your information, all three told me they would answer anytime I called.”
“Who are you talking about?” I asked.
“Cheerleaders!” Jayce said triumphantly. “I got three of the cheerleaders’ phone numbers!”
I threw Brie a questioning glance and she just shrugged in exasperation. “Men.”
“Not all men stoop to the-” Nikko was interrupted by several students running by.
“Angela, what’s going on?” Jayce shouted.
One of the girls turned, her face pale. “John’s on the roof of the old city building. He’s going to jump!” She hurried to catch up to her friends.
We exchanged glances, then ran after them.
A big crowd had formed around the old building a block from the high school. The structure towered above anything surrounding it, but the architecture was old and clusters of bricks were missing from the walls. The building had been locked up after the new city building was built three years ago; it was scheduled to be demolished, but the demolition date kept getting put off. The locks were often picked and one of my duties on my nightly rounds was to make sure no one was in the building.
The people that surrounded the usually ignored structure stared up at a form on the roof. He waved and shouted for them to move away, but several of the onlookers bravely stood where he would hit if he jumped.
I found Mr. Mason, the head of security and my boss, near the front. “Who’s taking care of this?”
“The cops handle jumper situations. We aren’t allowed to get involved. I called them already but they sure are taking their sweet time.” His brow creased worriedly and he looked back up at the roof, shading his eyes against the morning sun.
I wasn't sure what the cops normally did in that type of situation, but I knew time was essential and they were definitely running out of it. The student on the roof moved and everyone gasped.
“His dad committed suicide last year, shot himself in the head in front of his entire family,” a girl next to me said to her friend. “He’s really struggled since.”
“He’s in my biology class,” a boy with spacers in his ears replied. “He’s quiet, but I never thought he’d do something like this.”
Brie touched my arm. “This is horrible.”
“We’ve got to do something,” I replied.
“Yes, but what-”
I was already making my way to the edge of the crowd. She followed me around the building to the back door. I pulled out my keys.
“You’re going in?”
I answered her question by unlocking the door.
We ran across the hall to the stairs. Power to the building had been cut long ago to discourage students from crashing the place for parties. It was a nice idea, but it didn’t work; I had chased my share of students out of the basement.
We ran up the steps, adrenaline giving us energy. I pushed open the door at the top and we stepped out into the sunshine, gasping for air.
I walked slowly toward the young man on the roof. He hadn’t heard us enter and balanced precariously on the edge, staring at the crowd below.
“John, don’t do this,” Brie said.
The young man tur
ned quickly and he wavered for a second as he fought to regain his balance, but he didn’t step down. “Go away. I don’t want anyone up here.”
“What about your family? They love you. You can’t do this to them,” Brie pleaded.
“I can do what I want. It’s my life,” he retorted. His eyes were wide and jaw tight, the look of someone who felt he had no other choice. I had seen that look many times in the Arena.
“Just come down and talk. Please. For me?” Brie pleaded.
I took a step closer and shrugged my coat down one shoulder in case I needed to get it off quickly.
“Let’s get off the roof and talk. What do you say?” Brie pressed.
John looked down at the ground far below us. “Okay,” he agreed, his tone strange. He turned as if to step down, then gave Brie a small smile, opened his arms, and fell backward.
Brie screamed and I lunged for his hand, grabbing it just as he fell over the edge. His weight pulled me with him; we plummeted off the roof.
Brie cried my name. I fought to get my bearings and take off my coat. Shouts of surprise and shock rose from the crowd below. The wind rushed past like laughter in my ears, calling for me to open my wings and join its carefree dance. John flailed wildly; I struggled to hold him as I freed my other arm from the coat and let it flap away behind me. The crowd below sped quickly toward us. My heart raced. I wrapped my arms around John to stop his thrashing, then forced my wings open just before we hit the ground.
The wind caught my wings like a battering ram; my old scars burned in protest, but my wings held and I pushed them down hard. We skimmed over the top of the crowd. I let John go on a patch of grass, then crashed a few yards away on the hard ground. I rose slowly. My right wing throbbed. I didn’t dare fly again. The crowd stared at me with wide eyes. Cell phones glinted in the rising sun and my heart slowed.
