Cory takes it, smiles and they shake. “Pretty bad gash you got there.”
Arthor looks down at his leg. “I’ll manage.”
“Well, better be off so I can be done with this. Wanna join me?” Cory asks.
“We’ll be jumping in a minute,” Arthor says, eyeing me.
Cory salutes us, runs toward the edge, and hurls himself off the cliff.
I spring to my feet, rush over to the edge, and watch as he plummets toward the blue ocean. My chest feels like it contains a hundred bouncing crickets. When he hits the water, white blooms around him and he vanishes beneath the waves. Will he come back up? For every second that he remains gone, my breathing becomes a little shallower. I wait longer. No one can stay under water that long, can they? I scan the entire sea, but there are no bodies anywhere. And no hovercrafts to disintegrate the floating corpses. Most likely, Arthor and I are close to being the last ones to jump, so surely some of the participants must have died. But where did everyone go?
After waiting longer than I deem any human could survive without a breath, I take a step back. If he didn’t make it, there’s no way I’ll survive the two-hundred foot fall.
I look at Arthor, who’s not breathing either, rather gawking at the water like he’s expecting Cory to suddenly appear. Trying to get my mind off Cory’s death—and what his death means when it comes to my fate—I ask, “So, what’s your secret?”
Arthor’s lips draw to a line and he sits back down. “Will you promise me you’ll still be my friend after I tell you?”
I sigh. If this is one of my last moments, I’m not going to waste it holding onto a grudge. “If you want me to.”
He nods. “Ready?”
I nod.
He leans in and whispers, his hand cupped to my ear. “I’m gay.”
I do everything I can to not react in any which way—not shocked, or confused, or disturbed, the very emotions I’m feeling at the moment. Shocked. I never suspected anything; he seems as straight as any other guy I’ve met. Disturbed. I always thought gays were so different— strange. He must think I hate him, especially after how I reacted when he thought I might be gay. I have to admit, I don’t really know a lot about the subject. Sometimes gay citizens are given the chance to join a rehabilitation program, which supposedly cures them. I’ve even heard President Volkov say there’s no such thing as a homosexual person, but that homosexuality is a disease that can be developed from watching indecent programs. It doesn’t sound quite right to me.
“No response?” he says, chuckling lightly, grabbing behind his neck.
“Well, I just never thought…er…I’m surprised,” I say with all honesty. “But thank you for telling me.” My father hates gay people, says they’re the scum of the earth and that it states in the Bible that they’re an abhorrence in the sight of God. I believe in a God, too, but somehow I can’t imagine that a loving God hates any of his children.
Arthor sighs. “It feels good to get that off my chest.”
“Have you told anyone before?” I ask.
He shakes his head somewhat sheepishly.
“Not even your parents?”
“No. Well, Tristan was the only one who knew. And my…boyfriend.” He glances at me from underneath his eyelashes.
His boyfriend? Who could that be? I never once saw him with anyone I’d suspect of being his boyfriend. All these years, and I never knew.
“My parents suspect, I think, if they don’t know already. My father seems to avoid me whenever he can.”
“I’m sorry.”
He claps his hands together and rubs them briskly. “Well, let’s do this thing.” Struggling to his feet, limping on his one good leg, he toes the edge of the cliff and peers down.
I stop him. “Wait…can I…hold your hand?” I don’t know where that came from, but something inside me needs someone right now. And somehow, revealing to him my deepest secret, and him revealing his to me, it feels natural to share this defining moment with him.
He smiles. “Sure. On three?”
I stand up and walk over to the side of the edge, looking down on the same bottomless sea that just swallowed up Cory’s body. My head starts to spin and my legs turn into two wobbly stilts. It’s way farther than I’ve ever dreamed of jumping, and way farther than I can see myself surviving. Should I quit? If I pull out of the obstacles, I’ll be sent back home—nothing would be worse than that. I just need to do this before I think about it any more or before I lose the little ignorance I still have left and change my mind.
Trying to get a hold of my erratic breathing, I think about what Nicholas said to me before I left the Conference Center: “And for the last jump, make sure you jump feet first, no interlocking of the fingers, close your eyes and plug your nose.”
Instead of reaching for my locket, I take Arthor’s hand in mine and clasp my other hand underneath my armpit. Don’t think. Just count. “One…two…” I can’t! I’ll die! Tristan! No—don’t think, just do it!
“Three!”
Chapter 15
There’s a time in all our lives where we come to a realization that no matter what we do or how we choose to spend the hours and days that are ours, death is the only outcome. It’s crazy really how we walk around as if that momentous day will never arrive—like it’s a myth or an illusion—avoiding thinking about that instant when we will no longer exist. Maybe it’s a survival instinct. If we truly understood that death can snatch us before we’re even aware of it, we would be freaking out, desperate to avoid the inevitable, searching for a remedy that would immortalize our bodies.
But it’s too late for me.
Arthor and I jump over the edge, and the sudden drop makes me breathless. The wind whips against me and howls in my ears, but I keep my eyes shut and continue to squeeze Arthor’s hand, telling myself that by doing so, the impact will be less painful by doing so.
As if by chance, I remember to plug my nose and not a second later, a force as hard as concrete smashes against my feet. The next thing I know, cold liquid rushes around my body, and I sink into the seemingly bottomless ocean. At first, I’m glad there are no hidden rocks I collide with, but when I continue to drop at a fast pace, it occurs to me if I don’t stop sinking, I might never make it back up. Just like Cory.
I kick my feet and move my arms, but I continue to sink. I kick more vigorously, but the faster I move my limbs, the more my lungs burn and the farther I’m drawn under farther. I exhale halfway. When I open my eyes, thousands of bubbles surround me, obscuring my view in the dark ocean. At first, I become desperate, not being able to see anything, but then it occurs to me: these bubbles must be coming from somewhere and sinking deeper and deeper is all part of the plan. This is why Cory and all the other participants vanished. I’m desperate to take a breath, but am able to hold off a little longer, believing that I’ll soon be safe. Then I exhale completely.
My thoughts are confirmed when I get to the ocean floor, and I see light shining from an open hatch. Arthor and I are sucked toward it and into some sort of a capsule. The pull is so strong that I become stuck to a wall right next to him. But things are not happening fast enough. As I inhale, the salty fluid burns my throat and chest, and I start to heave. Unwilling to die alone, I take Arthor’s limp hand in mine.
The door to the container closes with a bang, and not a second later, the water drains out of the capsule and is replaced with air. Collapsing onto my hands and knees, I vomit the water out and gasp for air.
“Please take your seats and secure your harnesses,” a woman’s voice says.
I continue to cough until all the fluid has come up. When I come to myself, I see Arthor still lying lifeless on the floor. I crawl over so I’m kneeling next to him, stoop down beside him and bring my ear to his mouth to check for breathing. My heart nearly stops when I realize there’s no sound or movement.
“Arthor!” I scream, taking him by the shoulders and shaking him.
The female voice says, “Prepare for de
parture.”
I try to lift Arthor up, but he’s too heavy. Instead, I lie on top of him and hold onto the bottom of a seat in hopes we won’t go flying when the capsule takes off.
“Three, two, one…”
The capsule ejects to a start, and unable to keep my grip, we are thrown into the back wall. My skull hits against the glass, and I fall to the floor with a thud. The impact is so hard my head spins. I get the wind knocked out of me, causing me to gasp for air once more. As I catch my breath, I kneel beside Arthor, place the base of my palms on his chest and start to compress. His face is limp and gray.
“Arthor! Wake up!” I compress his chest again—harder this time—and grant him a few more breaths. “Come back!” I grab his shoulders and shake them. “Just don’t die…” I push on his chest again, putting all my weight into it.
Finally, he starts to cough and water spurts from his throat. My heart leaps in my chest, feeling like it’s going to burst. I can’t tell whether I’m laughing or crying.
“Arthor, can you hear me?” He doesn’t answer. I lift his head and place it in my lap to get it off the hard, cold floor. I run my fingers through his wet hair and as he continues to breath, the color slowly returns to his face.
“Arthor,” I whisper, but he still doesn’t open his eyes. The capsule continues forward and every few seconds I glance at his chest to make sure he hasn’t stopped breathing.
* * *
The five minutes it takes us to get back to Trollheim seems like days. When we arrive, hordes of people wait outside on the UVC station brick platform, and several of them are waving Culmination’s flag. What are they doing here, and how do they know about us? They cheer loudly when they spot us and try to break through the wall of Normark security guards who are struggling to keep the onlookers contained. Once the capsule has reached a complete stop, the doors open, and a cool breeze gusts in, causing me to shiver. Just then, Arthor mumbles something. I gently press my palm to his face and when he opens his eyes, I take his hand in my other hand.
“You’re going to be okay.”
Nicholas enters the capsule first, and the moment he sees me, he exhales so loudly I can hear it.
“Welcome back,” he says and throws a blanket around my shoulders.
I didn’t think seeing him again would have any effect on me, but when our eyes connect, I feel safe again.
Mai enters and spreads a blanket across Arthor’s body. Taking one look at Arthor’s leg, she scowls. “Oh, dear. It’s worse than I thought. Much worse. Nick…”
Nicholas examines Arthor’s leg carefully. “He’ll bleed to death if we can’t stop it.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” I ask.
Nicholas’s face grows weary. “No medical treatment is provided during the program.”
“What?” I shout.
“Joseph,” Nicholas says in a low voice. He stands up and shouts at the reporters who have slithered their way into the capsule. They retreat back outside.
“I don’t remember that being in the contract,” I say.
“It’s there.” Mai glances at Nicholas. I’m about to object, but before I get a single word out, Mai says, “Let’s bring him back to the hotel. To my room.”
“Yes, let’s,” Nicholas says. We don’t even get a stretcher so Nicholas and one of the security guards lift Arthor to the transporter that’s waiting for us outside.
“We love you, Joseph!” I hear some girls beckon from the crowd, and when I look over at them, they giggle. My cheeks flush with blood; it’s embarrassing to me how they think I’m a guy. I get into the transporter and sit between Arthor and Nicholas. Arthor’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head. It makes me furious how President Volkov can spend so much money on the obstacle courses, but not find it in his heart to provide medical care for those who suffer injuries.
“We’re pleased you made it,” Mai says with a soft smile, sitting in the front seat with the driver. “I have to be honest; no one thought you would survive.”
“Except for me.” Nicholas takes my hand, squeezing it ever so softly, and even though I feel halfway dead, his warm skin sends tingles through me.
“How many survived?” I ask.
“The numbers are still rolling in, but when I checked a few minutes ago, it said that roughly half the participants either died, or withdrew,” Nicholas says.
“Half? Now I feel guilty for having...” I close my mouth, not wanting Arthor to know about my advantage during the marathon.
Mai glances back at Nicholas and clears her throat.
“What?” I ask.
“We’ll talk about it later,” Nicholas says. “Let’s make sure Arthor is stable first.”
I’m curious to know what Nicholas has to say but drop the subject.
Mai catches me up on how some of the other registrars thought Arthor was an idiot for helping me through the marathon, but when I helped him climb Devil’s Cliff, they rescinded, saying Arthor was perceptive for having teamed up with the smart contestant. Nicholas shares how his father was very surprised I survived the first phase, and how it shows that intelligence trumps physical superiority. I don’t like hearing that President Volkov is paying attention to me.
“How come there are so many reporters here?” I ask.
“A few reporter drones made it into the obstacle courses, and now it’s all over the news.”
I remember seeing one on top of Devil’s Cliff. “Oh…” What if they recorded what Arthor and I said? Or when Arthor shouted my real name? My shoulders become tense. I do remember looking around before Arthor and I spoke about our secrets, but I can’t be certain.
A short time later, we arrive at a skyscraper hotel that has a golden Viking longship in the front courtyard. Mai explains we were supposed to stay in Volkov Village again, but that it was delayed due to Hurricane Chloe. When Prime Minister Halvor of Normark, a huge fan of obstacle courses in general, and a supporter of equal rights, found out about the dilemma, he immediately offered to house us in the Valhalla Hotel.
I don’t mind one bit.
A bellboy with white gloves and silver buttons on his suit opens our doors and greets us with a warm smile. But when he sees Arthor’s leg, his grin drops several notches.
“To the hospital, perhaps?” he asks and looks at me.
“No.” Mai gets out of the transporter and walks around it to where the bellboy is standing. “Help us get him inside. We’ve already checked in. Room 10545.”
“Uh…most certainly, ma’am,” he says. Nicholas and the bellboy lift Arthor’s arms above their shoulders, and help him out of the transporter. Arthor groans, but they continue to drag him toward the hotel.
I follow after, walking with Mai. The interior has vaulted ceiling with serpent-like woodcarvings and metal sculptures that resemble birds. We cross the marble-floor foyer and Mai presses the button with the number two hundred and thirteen. If I weren’t as exhausted as I am, I probably would love this place, but right now nothing seems important other than Arthor gets the help he needs and that I can get some rest.
The elevator doors open and we go down a long, narrow, carpeted hallway. I hardly remember walking from the elevator to the door, but somehow I manage to get there. Nearly unconscious, I glance at the clock and it reads 5:07 a.m. Mai’s room is a two-bedroom suite with a full kitchen, a living area, and an office. Mai finds a first aid kit in the bathroom while the bellboy and Nicholas take Arthor into one of the rooms to lay him on the bed. Arthor’s eyes are open slits and drops of sweat roll down his face.
Mai comes back with a white box, flings it on the bed, and opens it. Wasting no time, she undoes the makeshift bandage I put on and douses a cloth with alcohol. “I’m sorry. This is going to hurt.”
Nicholas stays her hand. “Maybe we can give him something for the pain.”
Mai nods and Nicholas leaves for a moment, returning with a glass filled with dark yellow liquid. “It will knock him out.”
Arthor downs the entire gl
ass and rests his sweaty head back onto the pillow. “We made it, Heidi,” he whispers.
I take his hand in mine. “We did.”
“We’ll wait to tend to the wound until it takes effect,” Mai says. “Care for some food, Heidi?”
“No,” I say, remaining by Arthor’s side. I won’t be able to stomach anything right now.
“Go eat. I’ll watch him,” Nicholas says sternly.
I don’t feel like eating anything, but I’m too tired to object, so I follow Mai out to the kitchen and have a seat by the table. Every inch of me is still uncomfortably sore, and I desperately need to get cleaned up—I can even smell myself.
Mai sets a huge bowl of pasta and two tall glasses of water in front of me, the beads of condensation trickling down the outsides of the glasses. I gulp the entire first glass down and start on the pasta, eating it quicker than I should after having not eaten for twenty-four hours.
“Your room is right across the hallway from mine, but you can stay here until Arthor is stabilized.”
“Thank you.” I pick at the pasta. “So what was that all about back there?” I ask.
Mai squint her eyes at me. “Oh.” She nods her head. “The landmines were rigged to go off at fifty pounds.”
I stop eating. “They changed it?” I ask as calmly as I can, giving Nicholas the benefit of the doubt. He told me they were rigged to go off at one hundred and thirty pounds, and he wouldn’t lie to me. Would he?
Mai continues. “We found out about the change right before the Opening Ceremony, but it wasn’t something we were allowed to share with you.”
“I went out there thinking I was safe!”
“Yes, but thankfully…”
I don’t listen to the rest of her sentence, only stand up and charge back into Arthor’s room where Nicholas still is. “You lied to me?” I ask Nicholas.
He takes me by the arm and leads me out of the room, closing the door behind him. “I didn’t think it would be good for you to know. You would just have worried about it and I needed to keep you emotionally stable.” He stares at me unapologetically.
Savage Run Page 14
