Savage Run

by E. J. Squires

  He shakes his head. “Except for the benefactors. It was part of the deal: keep your gender a secret.”

  I pause for a moment, thinking about how liberating it felt to not have to hide the truth anymore, trying to wrap my mind around going back to being Joseph again. “What if I want to continue as myself?”

  He shakes his head. “That’s not an option.”

  I punch my fist into the mattress. “I’m doing it.” I can’t live a lie anymore; pretend to be something I’m not.

  “Just wait until the end, Heidi. Revealing it now won’t do you any good. It will only give my father more of a reason to try and have you killed off.”

  “No. I have to do this. This way—I don’t know—I guess I can prove that I’m just as good as anyone else.”

  His eyes turn soft. “You already are just as good—better even.”

  Should I continue on as Joseph? Maybe Nicholas knows something I don’t—like what President Volkov might do if I defy him—and I should do as he says. Plus, there is danger in my real identity; I’m the only female participant out there and could easily be taken advantage of. I will be looked upon as weak. But deep down inside, I know I can’t go on pretending. Not for a single second. Not wanting to talk about it anymore, I change the subject. “How long have I been out for?” I ask.

  “Since yesterday.”

  “So it starts again tomorrow?”

  “Yes—my father excused you from the last round in phase two due to the accident. And don’t worry, you’ll be back to your normal self by then.”

  “What about Arthor, is he all right?”

  “There are about four hundred participants left. But of course, Arthor made it. He made the top ten percent, actually.” The right side of his lip rises and he glides his warm hand between mine so our fingers interlace.

  I look down at our joined hands, completely confused by the fact that with a single touch from him, I feel like I could entrust with him everything that I am and hope to become. “Did you watch all of it?”

  “Yes. But I don’t like watching you out there. It scares me.”

  Being strong, I know how to do that—it’s familiar. Being vulnerable—that’s dangerous. But with Nicholas, I want to go there. He makes me feel safe.

  “I need to visit with the other participants.” He stands up and heads toward the door before I’m able to stop him.

  I want to say that I need him to stay, but words are too far lost to speak. Finally I’m able to blurt out, “Wait!”

  He turns around.

  “Can I talk to Mai?”

  “I’ll send her in. See you at the benefit.” He cracks the door open, and looks straight at me, his blue eyes lingering on my face for a long while. He turns to leave, but before he does, he glances over his shoulder. “Oh, and you’ll be staying back in Volkov Village tonight in the room you were in before. It will be taking you to the O-Region.”

  Volkov Village? The hole in the floor toilet. Great. No mattress. I guess I can handle anything for one night.

  Chapter 22

  Just when I throw my legs over the side of the bed to see if it hurts to stand up, the door opens. Mai enters with a garment bag draped over her shoulder and a bag in her hand. She’s wearing a hunter green, spaghetti-strap, floor-length gown and her black, loose hair has green glitter on the edges. She stares at me for a moment as if she’s seen a ghost. “How are you?”

  “Much better than before, thank you.”

  She sets the bag onto the floor and hangs the garment bag from the top of the curtain partition. She unzips it, revealing a tuxedo.

  Oh, that again. “I wanted to talk to you about something…”

  “Okay.” She pulls the tuxedo out of the bag and lays it on the bed next to me.

  “I want to continue on as…myself.”

  She pauses and slowly looks up to me. “Are you sure?”

  I nod.

  “Have you spoken to Nicholas about this?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, and he didn’t think I should.”

  Mai marches over to the door and closes it. Returning to my bedside, she says, “I think you should do it.”

  “You do?”

  “Absolutely. If President Volkov tries anything, the benefactors will know, and they will withdraw their support. That’s the last thing he wants so coincidentally, it’s the safest move for you.” Her black, round eyebrows rise. “Luckily, I have something for you.”

  “What?”

  She reaches for the garment bag again, and this time pulls out a halter-top, floor-length mint green dress that has crystals on the bodice and the hem. “A donation from an…” she reads a small yellow card attached to the dress, “…Mrs. Konders.”

  I wonder if Mrs. Konders’s gift is her way of telling me that I should continue on as myself. Her words come back to me: equal rights. “It’s lovely.”

  “What about Nicholas? He’ll kill me!”

  “He most certainly will.”

  I chuckle a little at her response.

  “But it’s time to start thinking like a Master. You are now free to make your own rules. And if Nicholas tries to stop you, he isn’t doing his job properly.”

  Coming from Mai, her comment shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. “Have you known each other for a long time?”

  “Oh, for years. I used to be his martial arts instructor. It’s a long story how I got involved in that, but in short, after having been assaulted for the fifth time, and almost losing my life in the process, I decided to learn something about self defense.”

  “Is that how you came to be a Savage Run registrar?” I ask.

  “I’m the top Jeet Kun Do artist in the world, and since I knew President Volkov from training his son, he offered.”

  “Jeet Kun…?” I ask.

  “The art of expressing the human body in combat,” she explains. “The goal is to empty your mind, to be formless—shapeless—like water, and to have the ability to adapt to any combat situation.”

  “Was Nicholas good?” I ask.

  “The best student I ever had. He mastered the discipline in three years and became the national champion.”

  “You were a Laborer before…?”

  “He’s the reason I’ve been able to reach so far. The pain he gave me drove me. When my husband and I married, we were both Masters. He lost his freedom to gambling. As a good wife, I followed him and took upon myself the status of a Laborer, but he soon became cruel and bitter. I was too much of a coward to stay.” Mai’s eyes glaze with wetness. “But it was so long ago, and I have almost been able to forget.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll be able to forgive my father.”

  For just a split second, her face expresses unimaginable pain and she looks away. “Remember, a strong person holds on and hangs in there until the bitter end, but a wise person knows the exact moment to let go. Let it go, Heidi. Set yourself free.” She faces me and her eyes are set with tears. “Though I know, some things one can never forgive oneself for.”

  I want to ask her what she hasn’t been able to forgive herself for.

  “Let’s see what’s happening in the world. TV on.”

  A news reporter is talking. “So is it a wise move of President Volkov to allow the young man to continue to participate in the Savage Run, only days after he was shot down? And despite the numerous rumors alleging that Joseph Wood is a girl?”

  “How did that leak out?” Mai says.

  Johnny. Master Douglas. My father. The apothecaries I work with. The list is endless.

  The reporter continues. “Or does his decision have to do with the fact that the benefactors suspected that it was foul play and threatened to withdraw their funds if President Volkov didn’t let Joseph Wood continue? But in another story intimately related to this, Master Douglas…” Mai commands the TV off.

  “No! Wait!” I yell.

  She looks at me, baffled, but commands the TV back on.

  “Tragically, his seven-year-old daughter
died in a drowning accident the day of the Savage Run Registration….”

  I remember the happy little girl who planted a kiss so freely on Master Douglas’s cheek. That innocent girl is gone, and for the first time, I feel something close to empathy for Master Douglas for having lost someone who brought such joy to his otherwise angry eyes. I wonder if Master Douglas knew that his daughter had died before he shot Gemma.

  “…Master Douglas alleges that Joseph Wood is Heidi Cruise, and that she is an outlaw. He claims that Heidi kidnapped his housekeeper, Gemma Brooks, when Gemma was supposed to be caring for his daughter. Master Douglas has also stated that Heidi tried to have his housekeeper register for the Savage Run with her. When asked what happened to Gemma Brooks, he said that she’s been put under strict house arrest.”

  My monitor beeps more rapidly. “Gemma—alive?” No, it can’t be. He must be lying. To cover up that he killed her. But why would he do that when it’s his right to kill any of his Laborers for whatever reason he wants? However, if he is telling the truth, Master Douglas is probably treating Gemma even worse than before. Way worse.

  Nausea wells up in my stomach. If what he’s saying is true, Master Douglas wouldn’t have killed us. But now Gemma might be suffering even more because of what I did—because I abandoned her.

  I hate myself and Gemma probably hates me too—or she should. I have to find out if she’s alive, and I have to make it up to her—for all the times she’s been there for me. That she yelled for me to run. I have to place first, second or third in Savage Run so I can hire an advocate and buy her freedom. And I don’t care how much grief Master Douglas will give me; I’m going to make him sell her to me. I press my hands to my face and moan.

  “Heidi, there’s nothing you can do for her right now. Focus on what you’re doing and things will take care of themselves.” She commands the TV off.

  “No, you don’t understand. He’s a monster, Mai.”

  “I believe it. Trust me, more than most. But there’s nothing you can do right now. Now is the time we have to get you ready for the benefit.” Reaching into the bag on the floor, she lifts out a matching ivory silk bra and underwear and hands them to me along with the dress. “Go change.”

  My mind still on Gemma, I take the undergarments and dress and lock myself in the bathroom. Alone, I let the clothes slip out of my hands and fall to the floor. I sink down, clasping my head, breathing irregularly. Gemma. I don’t know for sure that she’s still alive, but why would Master Douglas say she is? Is he trying to send me a message? Use her against me? Maybe he blames me for his daughter’s death and he wants revenge. I shake my head, trying to center myself. I wish Nicholas were here; he’d help me get through this.

  Somehow I find the strength to stand up and start to undress. Slipping out of the hospital gown, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is greasy and messy, my lips chapped, my eyes red, and my skin blends well with the white walls. The ugliest girl in the world. Not that I was so beautiful before, but I used to be somewhat decent-looking when I had my long hair and rosy cheeks. Now, I’m just emaciated, pale and plain old homely.

  Mai knocks on the door. “You doing okay in there?”

  “Yeah, just…just a minute.” I slip on the silky bra. Doing something helps me get my mind off Gemma. Not much, but just enough to where I can function. The padding makes it look like I have a full chest. The boys will make fun of me—especially Arthor. I hope the others made it.

  I step into the thin, silky panties, the fabric tickling my skin as I slide them up over my knees and thighs. Is this what Masters wear? The barely-there material seems flimsy compared to my coarse cotton underwear, and it’s almost as if I’m not wearing anything at all. I slide on the dress, the fabric heavy and smooth against my body. Opening the door, I ask Mai to help me zip up the back of my dress.

  “It’s a little big around the shoulders,” she says. “No worries. Nicholas’s Tailor is here.”

  But something doesn’t feel right. “This is all wrong. I can’t wear this. This isn’t me.”

  “What were you thinking?” Mai asks, a curious grin on her face.

  “Will you get the tailor for me?”

  She nods and slips out the door. When Mai returns with the tailor, he wags his finger at me and smirks.

  “I knew you were a girl.”

  I laugh, remembering the embarrassing moment. The tailor’s eyes light up when I tell him what I’m looking for, and while he works to alter the dress to my specifications, Mai starts on my hair and make-up.

  Mai works on me for about an hour and a half, applying make-up, curling my short hair, shaving my legs and armpits, and plucking away at my eyebrows. When she’s finished, she shows me to the mirror, and to my astonishment, the girl looking back at me has rosy cheeks, red lips, and bright eyes. In short, I resemble a high-society Master. My hair is short and smooth, and curls playfully at the ends. My skin carries no blemishes and glows slightly.

  “Now for the dress,” the tailor says, handing it to me, and once I’ve changed into it, Mai takes me to the transporter.

  On the ride to Casa Libre, I run my fingers over my palms, amazed at how I feel no pain; they’re just sensitive to the touch. Thinking about Gemma has made me determined to give it all I’ve got both here tonight, and tomorrow, when I begin the third phase of the obstacle course. I have to survive it, have to start what I finished and free her myself. Nothing will stop me this time.

  The sharply sloping, triangular building reaches the clouds, and it glows orange in the night. When our transporter stops, reporters storm around us, lights flashing like a lightning storm. I see Nicholas through the window and he’s wearing a black tuxedo with a gray vest and tie. My heart hammers in my chest. What will he say? He’s going to be so angry with me; that’s for sure.

  Before opening my door, he sees me through the glass and pauses, his mouth opening ever so slightly. I hear a deep man’s voice announce: “Next is Joseph Wood!”

  Nicholas opens the door and offers me his hand. Still no hint of anger. The reporters storm around us and push their cameras and microphones in my face. Can they tell who I am? Do they understand that it’s me?

  “Hey look, it’s old Lady Liberty!” a reporter yells.

  “Where’s Joseph?” I hear one of them call.

  Nicholas pushes past them, hurrying me inside. We get inside the foyer and it’s like entering a cave in a lightning storm. Nicholas stops and his eyes scan the room, his hand pressing against the bare skin on my back.

  He takes my hand, pulls me with him up the curving stairwell, and guides me gently into the walk-in closet, closing the door behind us. Being this close to him where I can smell his musky cologne and feel the heat of his body against mine, my heart starts to race. I step back so I’m pressed up against the itchy coats, the smell of wool and linen filling my nostrils. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Is that supposed to be…?”

  “It’s inspired by the Statue of Liberty. Your tailor helped me.”

  “Of course he did.” His nostrils flare as he exhales sharply. “I am extremely disappointed, but that’s besides the point right now. If someone offered you a way that you wouldn’t have to go back out into the obstacles, would you take it?” His bright blue eyes cut into mine and for a moment I’m speechless.

  “Is that a hypothetical question?” I ask.

  “No.” His stare is intimidating.

  “I…I have to have my freedom.”

  He exhales through his nose. “That could be arranged—later.”

  “How?”

  He sighs, his breath tickling my face. “The Konders.”

  “I…I don’t know. I mean, I want to live, but part of me wants to see through what I started. And Gemma…I need to…” He said I could have my freedom ‘later.’ “How much later?”

  “I don’t know. Months, but no longer than a few years.” He takes a step closer to me and presses his fingers to my lips, trailing them down to my chi
n and neck.

  I don’t understand what he’s doing, so I look away, afraid he can tell how beside myself his touch makes me feel. “It’s too long. Gemma will be dead by then or wish she were.”

  He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “There’s so much fight in you, Heidi. Sometimes it’s better to just let it go.”

  I feel like all the air in my lungs deflates. “Let it go? Gemma might be alive. I can’t let go!”

  His eyes darken. “I just don’t want to see you die out there. It was frightening how close you got last time.”

  “It won’t happen again,” I say harshly.

  “No—Heidi—it’s just what happens out there. If my father doesn’t get to you, the obstacles are made to push you to the limit and eliminate anyone who has a moment of weakness. One small millisecond of being unfocused will cost you your life.”

  “I know that, Nicholas.” What’s his point?

  “I don’t mean to—it’s just…” His voice trails off.

  “What?” I snap.

  He shakes his head. “Will you just answer the question?”

  “No, I wouldn’t take the offer.” I try to read his reaction as his eyebrows gather in the center.

  “Why not?” he asks.

  “I have to place in the top three so I can buy Gemma’s freedom. And because for once in my life, I have control over what happens to me. For once, I can fight back without being beaten into submission. And I don’t even know what the Konders want with me. Do they want to own me? Control me? How can I accept help from someone I don’t know if I can trust?” I retort.

  “Well you accepted the help from my father at the hospital.” His eyebrows rise.

  “But that was different.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  Of course he does.

  “Sometimes one just has to learn to trust.”

  “There’s no one I can trust. Not even myself!”

  He gets this icy glare and for a moment I think he’s going to blow, but instead, he says very slowly, “I just want you to be safe—that’s all.”

  “There’s no safety for me anywhere, don’t you see that? Where I come from and where I’m headed is the most dangerous place of all.”