SICK HEART

by Huss, JA

“I never said it was over. That was you.” He pokes me in the chest. “Stop using your sick fucking heart like a brain. It’s not rational. It makes bad decisions. We both know this. And it’s controlling you right now.”

  “Why do you say that? Because I care about my fucking kids? Because I don’t want to see Anya taken away to Udulf’s fucking harem?”

  “Your kids?” He scoffs. “Which of them are yours, Cort? And which of them are mine?”

  “They’re ours.”

  “No. Not all of them. Ainsey and Evard only belong to you, right? And you’re coddling that girl like you’re her fucking father or something.”

  “I am. I’m sorry you don’t like that—”

  “Don’t like it?” His eyebrows shoot up. “I give no fucks about your individual relationship with any of these kids. I love them all the same. Ainsey is no different than Irina. Do you think I want to leave Irina behind? Do you think I like watching these boys and girls work their asses off in a constant state of fear for over a decade, only to watch them be killed in a ritualistic fistfight to appease the rich and sick of this disgusting, evil world? Fuck you, Cort. Just fuck you. I do this because they make me.”

  “I’m not doing this for fun, either.”

  “No. Of course not. But you seem to think that you’re better than me because you have that sick heart inside your chest and I don’t.” He points his finger in my face. “And that doesn’t make you better, Cort. It just makes you softer. We both know I would’ve done better than you in the ring. But you’re not smart enough to put me back together after the fights. So I gave it up to keep you alive. But I want to make something very clear right now.” His eyes are seething with anger. “I would’ve gotten them all out. I would’ve fought for all of them. And the reason you have to leave Ainsey behind—the reason you have to leave Cintia, and Ling, and Sissy behind, even though they stood next to you all these years—is because you’re too weak to accept the ultimate Ring of Fire challenge and pay the real price of freedom.”

  “The real price. And what the hell would that be?”

  Maart huffs. “If you don’t know, I can’t help you. And if you want me to stick around after this shit show is up, then stay the fuck away from Anya. She’s going to ruin everything and I did not spend the last twenty years working my ass off and making all these sacrifices just so your sick heart can bleed all over me in the end.”

  He stares at me with blazing eyes for a few moments, his chest rising and falling too fast, his hands balled up into fists, his anger so thick it seeps out of his pores. And then he turns and walks off towards the other side of the platform.

  I let out a long sigh and then turn towards the stairs. Ainsey almost has that bed near the stairs. But I don’t stop to ask her how she thinks she’s gonna get it all the way up to the top platform. I just pass right on by, ignoring that ache in my chest, playing Maart’s words over and over in my head.

  When I get to the training platform I pause. Because I was gonna celebrate with Anya tonight. I was gonna grab the half-empty bottle of Lectra, take her up to the roof, get her drunk, and then maybe fuck her under the moonlight.

  But not anymore, thanks to Maart.

  Stay away from her. She’s gonna ruin everything.

  No, that’s not true. He’s the one ruining everything.

  But I don’t go looking for her in the clinic. I don’t even go check on her. I just take the stairs up to the top platform and slowly walk out into the middle of the helipad.

  No one is sleeping up here but me now.

  Rainer and Maart both like the container bedrooms. They are a home away from home for them. But I have never slept in one of those things and even though I can already smell the rain on the wind, I’m not gonna start now.

  I walk around the side of the little building, pass the water tanks on the roof, and end up on the other side of the line of supply containers, then climb up and settle back on the rough, rusty roof.

  There is a sudden flap of wings and then the irregular, wobbly patter of large webbed feet walking on the metal. My very first friend settles in next to me like no time has passed at all. Like the last twenty years never happened.

  I turn and look at the giant albatross. His beak was a light peachy pink when we first met and now it’s patched with brown. His eyes used to be glossy black and now they’re just a tiny bit duller.

  “We’re out of our prime now, buddy,” I say, putting my hands behind my head and sighing up at the dark moon. “The fights are over and it’s all downhill from here. But make no mistake, that’s a damn good thing.”

  He just tucks his head under his wing and goes to sleep. Because there’s really nothing more to say about that.

  It just is what it is.

  I dream.

  I dream about fights. And killing. And sick hearts. I dream about that fucking asshole, Lazar, and the time that came before my life with Udulf.

  I dream of a tiny girl with dark hair, and gray eyes, and a pretty face, but no voice. Just hands and fingers for words. And in my dream, I call her Ainsey because she looks just like Ainsey. But her name isn’t Ainsey. It’s…

  I wake to the sting of rain pelting my face before that missing piece can fall into place and I sit up, looking up at the storm. There are flashes of lightning off in the distance, but no thunder, so even though the threat feels close it’s all very, very far away.

  My friend, the General, has left. He never did like to sleep in the rain the way I do.

  But the wind makes up for the lack of thunder and the temperature has dropped just below what would make staying out here comfortable. So I get up, climb down the container, and head back towards the helipad.

  I stop in my tracks when I come around the corner. Because in the middle of the platform is a single child-sized bed. There is no child on top of it though, because Ainsey is sleeping underneath it, out of the rain. And my winged friend has joined her. They are snuggled up against each other the way I used to snuggle into him when I was small.

  I walk over and I’m just about to pull her out of there and take her downstairs with me, but then… then I just crawl under there with them.

  And before I can even think another word, I’m asleep.

  The final month on the Rock always goes the quickest. The first one always goes slow because everything is new, and different, and honestly, even though it’s hard for them, it’s also fun. Training camp on the Rock temporarily erases what happens back in our village on the mainland and the reality of what comes after camp is still very far away.

  In the second month all the kids are thinking about their first test and what they need to do for the second one. And they are busy laughing again. Playing their hand-slapping games and speaking in their silent hand signals.

  But the final month is a mixture of reality, and fear, and acceptance.

  That’s why we give them the games. That’s why we give them beds, and books, and let them be kids. Because in the third month the truth is far, far too real not to think about it.

  And once your fighter starts thinking about their own death, they’ve already lost.

  It’s just a fact that most of these kids will be dead soon. And it’s not like I ever just accepted this as fact, it’s just… it’s just a lot easier to give in to the inevitable than it is to hold on to the fantasy that someone will show up at the last minute and save them. Because it never happens.

  I used to dream about that too. Even after Maart came along and we were partners. I used to imagine that someone from my past would show up and make it all better.

  That girl. I used to dream about that girl with no voice who had the face of Anya a few weeks ago, but has now taken on the face of Ainsey. I used to hope for her to come back and say… I don’t know… I’m sorry I left you behind. It was all just a big mistake. And she would take my hand and lead me somewhere… safe.

  But it never happened.

  I was about seven when I really came to terms with my situation. When
I really understood that there was never going to be a rescue. When I truly accepted that at no point was anyone ever going to break into Udulf’s training camp, take care of business, and lead me out of this nightmare.

  And that the only way I would live long enough to grow up is if I fought for it. Literally.

  So that’s what I did. And that’s why I have this camp on the Rock for my fight kids. It’s a gradual lead-in to the final moment of truth.

  Most of them don’t get it the first time. Like… Ainsey isn’t suddenly gonna understand that heroes don’t exist when we leave here. If she makes it to next year, and there’s another round of Rock camp, she might get it then. But I doubt it.

  It takes most of them several years to come to terms with the truth. Just like it took me.

  That’s why I make them all come out here until they are fourteen. If they make it that long.

  By then, they are hard. They are serious. They understand the lessons they learn out here can save their lives if they apply them correctly.

  Silence is golden. Someone said that, I just don’t know who. But I know it’s true because silence has gotten me out of some very dangerous situations with Udulf and his ilk.

  Quiet. Shhhh. Don’t let them hear you. Speak with your hands, not your voice.

  It’s the secret language of slaves. I didn’t know this until that night I accepted my fate. Udulf was angry because I would not talk. He was drunk on the Lectra and he was beating me, trying to make me tell him how I learned to speak with my hands.

  But I didn’t know. So I couldn’t tell him. And I already knew that denying it wouldn’t get me far, so I just said nothing.

  It stuck.

  Udulf never learned the lesson of silence because some time later, after his drunken rage was long forgotten, he was the one who told me about the secret slave language. And that conversation was the first one where he confirmed that the girl with no voice who left me behind was real.

  That was the night he told me she was dead too.

  And all my hope died with her and my heart turned sick.

  And now it’s all over.

  Phase three on the Rock is history.

  I look around the mat, on this last full day we will spend here out on the Rock as a group. I see that same sickness creeping into these kids too.

  Budi has always gotten it. Someone told him early. Before he ever came to live with me.

  Zoya, too. She’s only six, but I see no hope of rescue in her eyes. She gets it.

  Jafari is the only other kid in my group who understands. I think that fight with Anya did it.

  Of course, Irina, Peng, Paulo, and Maeko got it a long time ago. That’s why they’re still here. But the rest of them… I look at each one in turn as they sit, lining the perimeter of the mat, listening to Maart give them instructions for the final test. Nope. None of the others understand what’s happening just yet.

  Evard doesn’t count because as far as he’s concerned, someone did rescue him. We rescued him. There will be no next fight in his future.

  But that still leaves twelve kids who probably won’t make it to next year.

  Anya is sitting next to Irina. They are best friends now. Maart took over Anya’s training for the past month. He treated her like shit every day on the mat. He yelled at her constantly. He corrected her relentlessly. And he made her sit out a lot because she was no match for the older kids.

  But after dinner, he took her aside and made her train four extra hours each night. So she is actually a very good up-and-coming fighter right now.

  I think he took her aside to keep me away from her.

  And it worked.

  Until now.

  Because tonight I have other plans for Anya. I saved half a bottle of last month’s Lectra and I will drink it with her tonight. Fuck him.

  Finally, Maart is done talking and he calls the first two kids onto the mat. He starts with my group and nothing that happens with them is much of a surprise until he makes Jafari fight Budi.

  Budi kicks his ass. Quickly and efficiently. And we have to pause things so Maart can go sew up a cut on the side of Jafari’s eye.

  Evard gets his ass handed to him too. By Rasha, of all people. Which makes me chuckle a little. Maybe rooming with Paulo did her some good because she has a new look in her eyes when she takes Evard down to the mat.

  But things don’t really get interesting until it’s time for the teenagers to fight.

  There are only so many combinations you can use with these four. And two have been done. Peng fights Irina. She is not an easy opponent, but he’s a big kid and has at least twenty pounds on her, so he wins in the end. This means that Maeko should be fighting Paulo, but Maart calls Anya to the mat with Paulo instead.

  “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “Yet another ass-kicking for Anya. It’s not really fair.”

  Rainer leans into my ear. “Shut up, you pussy. She made a big deal about being treated like an equal last test, so this is what she gets.”

  “He’s doing this on purpose.”

  “Yeah. He’s doing this to make her a better fighter and to cure Paulo of his fear of taking down girls.”

  “No. He knows it’s our last night together. And he wants to make sure she’s too fucked up to enjoy it.”

  Rainer almost guffaws at my statement. “Stop talking to me, you dumbass. Just watch the fight.”

  So I do. And to my surprise, Anya’s got moves. Not amazing moves, like Paulo does. But she pulls off the same fancy capoeira move I used to take down Pavo all those months ago. She doesn’t land it the way I did, so Paulo isn’t knocked out. And he takes her down less than a minute later and almost breaks her arm, but still. I’m impressed.

  And neither of her eyes are black. She has a bloody nose, but Paulo really does hate fighting girls so he mostly grapples when he has to fight them. Maart will berate him later for that and I’ll probably have to talk to him too—just to drive the point home that you do not ever go easy on the girls in this business. They will kill you the first chance they get in the real fights.

  But I’m relieved he didn’t punch Anya in the face. She’s had more than her share of that this camp and that means I can kiss her tonight and not have to worry about the pain.

  Because yeah. I will kiss her tonight.

  If I have to lose her tomorrow, I’m gonna make this a night to remember.

  I am distracted by my thoughts and Paulo helping Anya up off the mat, but when I look over at Maart, he’s already watching me. Anya and Paulo bow to each other, then him, and he refocuses on his students, bowing back.

  Maart points at Maeko, telling him to meet him on the mat. He has an uneven number of kids this time around so he has decided to test Maeko himself. It’s actually a long fight and I can almost hear everyone in camp reevaluating Maeko’s future.

  His moves are impressive. He has really improved this time around. His fight with Maart—even though he loses because Maart will never throw a fight with a kid—is his best ever. He is someone else now. Whoever he was when he got here three months ago, that kid is gone and this one takes his place.

  I watch Paulo as this all sinks in and read his mind. Does he need to worry about Maeko? Should he be afraid of some future fight with him? Even if it’s fifteen or twenty years away, the way my fight with Pavo was?

  Fuck yes, he does.

  The fight ends with Maart almost breaking Maeko’s leg, but after they bow, Maeko is smiling as big as I’ve ever seen him.

  He knows what just happened. He might even have a new hope that he will make it. And he probably will. That’s why Maart singled him out.

  Paulo, on the other hand, now has doubts. It’s a bad way for him to end his camp, but what’s done is done.

  Maart finds my gaze from across the platform. He just stares at me for a few moments. Then he looks away and announces the end of Rock camp, phase three.

  There is a lot of clapping, and pats on the back, and big smiles.

  To
night, they will eat well. We will cook up everything we have left and stuff our faces. Three different kinds of meats, pasta with sauce, frozen vegetables, and bread baked fresh this morning by Rainer and Evard is just where it starts. There will be cake, and ice cream, and chocolate, and everyone will get a tiny bit of Lectra.

  And they will have earned it.

  I find Anya in the game room a little while later. She didn’t need any medical attention this time and she’s reading a book when I walk in, like this is just another day.

  I walk right over to her, grab the book from her hand, and hide it behind my back as she jumps to her feet and makes a grab for it. “What?” I ask her playfully.

  She signs, Give me my book.

  “This book?” I ask, holding it up above my head. Anya is short, like almost an entire foot shorter than I am, so when she reaches up to make a grab for her book, there is no hope of her actually snagging it. She puts her hands on her hips and glares at me.

  “Anya,” I say. “It’s our last night. You’re not gonna sit in here and read. You can take the book with you.”

  Her face remains expressionless, as usual. But I can feel her thoughts behind her blue eyes. She wants to ask me all the questions. What will happen to me? Will I ever see you again? Questions like that.

  But even though I hear her silent words, I do not answer her unspoken questions. Instead, I toss the book onto the couch, take her hand, and lead her out onto the training platform. Rainer has all the kids gathered in a circle on the mats. They are sitting cross-legged, their attention on the story he is telling. I’m not sure what it is this time, but it’s a story to help them understand what they just accomplished while also preparing them for what’s coming next.

  He finds my gaze and smiles at me as Anya and I walk towards the stairwell. Gives me a little nod to let me know he’s got things under control here and we are free to go start our celebration without him.

  I look over my shoulder, trying to find Maart, but he’s somewhere else. He will probably have a problem with my plans with Anya tonight, but I don’t care. He made his point and I considered it. And I’ve respected his feelings all month.