by Logan Byrne
“It does. I feel the same way. I had to leave my family behind, and I feel guilty about it, like I shouldn’t have left,” Liam said.
“It isn’t your fault, though. You didn’t choose to leave them behind. Even if you decided not to, you’d still be whisked away to compete. You can’t beat yourself up for something you can’t control,” I said.
“I have to, though. They need me, they need the small amount of money I bring in, and most of all, I need them,” Liam said, stopping, as he put his hands in his lap and looked down.
I could tell this issue was much more than just him feeling guilty about not bringing in income or helping out around the house. He felt lost without them, the same way I felt lost without my mother and Saraia. They were my life, and without them here to guide me, to encourage me, I felt almost lost, like I couldn’t find my way.
“I just miss them, I guess,” he said, clearing his throat.
“I know they miss you ten times more. What are they like?” I asked, seeing his face light up a little.
“They’re great,” he said, smiling. “My mother is our rock, my rock, always there for us when we need her, even if other things try to stop her from doing that. I have a brother and a sister, my brother’s four and my sister’s twelve. I don’t have a real job, working I guess what you’d call odd jobs, helping out neighbors and businesses nearby whenever they need it, so I’m not technically an employee anywhere or whatever. I’d love to work on cars or something, something mechanical and physical, but that takes training, an apprenticeship, and the no or low pay I’d get from that, in addition to how long it would take to get done, prevents me from even trying,” Liam said.
“What about your dad? What does he do?” I asked.
“I wish I could tell you. He left three years ago, when my little brother was just about to turn one. There was no note, no money left, and no explanation. He might as well have been a ghost,” Liam said.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, feeling a bit awkward.
“Nah, don’t be sorry. It isn’t your fault, and besides, we don’t need him anyway. My mother works extra hard and I try to pick up the slack. We’re fine. It’s fine,” Liam said.
“I haven’t seen my father in a long time either,” I said.
“He a deadbeat too?” Liam asked, interrupting my sentence.
“He’s dead, but not a deadbeat,” I said.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope I didn’t offend you,” he said, with a sincere tone.
“No, it’s fine. You didn’t know,” I said.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did it happen?” Liam asked.
“Just a work accident. It’s been hard, but I guess we’ve managed. It’s been years, though, so sometimes I forget it happened. Not that I don’t love my dad or miss him, but he’s been gone for a while,” I said.
“No, I understand completely. Life goes on and sometimes you just…forget. It isn’t that you’ve forgotten about that person, but you just have to keep moving, keep working. My mom once told me that life goes on even if we want it to slow down,” Liam said.
“I guess you’re right. I just hope he knows, if he’s out there somewhere, that I’ll never forget about him,” I said, as I twiddled my thumbs.
“You said you have a mother and sister, though, right? What are they like?” Liam asked.
“My mother is a little strict, but I don’t think she necessarily wants to be. I think she just feels she has to be tough to take care of us in an environment like this. When I was a kid I used to think she wasn’t fun, but I think she was better than being fun, because she’s prepared me to be ready for anything,” I said.
“Sometimes the parents who seem the most strict are just the ones we need, even if they seem like the worst at the time,” Liam said.
“My sister is my shadow, as I like to call her. She’s definitely got a kind of exuberance to her that I hope never leaves her. We also share a room, so I’m always around her, though I don’t mind it. Sometimes I wish I had some personal space, but as I’m here, going through all this, I’m realizing that it isn’t always fun being alone,” I said.
I looked forward at the screen, some cars driving down below, their headlights illuminating the streets, the monstrous buildings up above shimmering like diamonds in a bed of dark sand.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Liam asked, looking at the screen as well.
“Yeah, it is. It makes me think, though. I think the buildings and lights are great, but what else is there?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Liam asked, a confused look on his face.
“Like beyond the city, beyond the walls. What’s out there? What do real stars, and not the fake ones manufactured by giant skyscrapers, look like? What’s it like to look around you and just see…nothing?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe you can find out,” he said.
“Oh, yeah? How?” I asked.
“Your wish. You said before you hadn’t thought of anything to wish for if we win, so wish for that. Wish to see the country outside the megacities,” Liam said.
I thought about it for a second, thinking that it would be nice to see the open country, a place nobody ever went to, and know that there wouldn’t be buildings, rats, and sewer gases bubbling up from the grates on the sidewalks to pollute my view. I could run through wide, open fields, the grasses whisking along my bare legs as I filled my lungs with preciously sweet and clean air, the kind that I’d only ever heard and dreamt about. It would all be great, but I knew I’d have to do it alone, and I wasn’t sure being out there by myself would be so much fun, even if seeing the rest of the country was a dream of mine.
“It’s a good thought, but it wouldn’t work out,” I said.
“Why wouldn’t it work out? You’d get a wish,” he said.
“They’d never let me bring my mom or sister, and going out there alone wouldn’t exactly be fun. What is it going to be, me and some guards all prancing around together?” I asked, smiling.
“I’ll go with you,” he said.
I looked at him, a puzzled look on my face, as he continued looking at me, both of us sitting in utter silence.
“They wouldn’t let you. I just said that they likely wouldn’t let me take anyone with me,” I said.
“I’m your partner, Alexia. I’d get a wish too, you know,” he said, smiling, like I should’ve known.
“But you said you wanted to use the wish on your mom,” I said.
“Yeah, but I’ve always wanted to see the country as well, and if I have the perfect opportunity and chance to go, why not go with you? It’d be fun,” he said.
To say I wasn’t flattered would be a lie. Liam was proving himself to be a sweet guy, even if he first came off a little rough and crass. He really was the type of person you shouldn’t judge by their cover. I knew he was just being sweet, and kind, and supportive of me, but I’d never take him with me or even expect that to happen if we did win and I did decide to use that as my wish. I was just here to win and go on with my life, just like he was, and everybody else here as well. It wasn’t to say that I didn’t like him or think he was nice, but I had my own life already, and I needed to worry about my mother and sister, not some guy I knew for a couple weeks.
“Maybe. We have to win first,” I said politely.
“That’s true. I’m pretty confident in us, though. We have a good chance of winning,” Liam said.
“Oh, yeah? How do you figure?” I asked.
“We have a great hacker, we have chemistry and mesh well together, and most of the other teams couldn’t find their way out of a brown paper bag, let alone through the competition,” Liam said.
“I guess you’re right. Just don’t get too cocky. The last thing we need is arrogance, like that Los Angeles guy,” I said.
“He won’t be a problem, don’t worry,” Liam said.
“How?” I asked.
“I’ve got your back. He won’t come near us,”
Liam said.
I yawned, covering my mouth, as my eyes watered a little bit, before I stretched my arms back, my sleepiness starting to come over me a little bit as I felt myself getting close to wanting to crawl back into bed.
“Yeah, I’m tired too. I think I’m going to get in bed. I’ll see you in the morning,” Liam said, smiling, before getting up and walking off to his room.
I continued to sit on the couch, looking at the screen, seeing some movement below on the street. That area looked much busier at night than my neighborhood. I didn’t know why, but seeing those people, those giant buildings, made me think even more about the competition. What happened if I lost, if we lost? I knew I’d thought about the consequences before, but this picture and my talk with Liam just made me think how imperative it was that I didn’t lose.
My mother and Saraia wouldn’t have enough money to scrape by, nobody would be there to take care of Saraia before and after school when my mother was busy and preoccupied with work, and not only that, but I’d miss everything. I knew I should be nervous and scared about three years of hard labor, my body on the line every single day without even one day of rest, but I couldn’t even bother to think about my own predicament…only theirs.
Saraia would be eleven when I got back, a pre-teen, and I wouldn’t have been there to guide her through the problems she might have in the meantime. She’d be getting into boys, she’d be changing, and I’d be wasting away before coming back and not knowing if I would even be the same person as I was now. I’d heard stories about how you come back a completely different person, your body worn down, bags under your eyes, and worst of all, defeated. I couldn’t come back defeated.
This competition could either be the best or worst thing to ever happen to me, and with eleven other teams, twenty-two other competitors, I had a feeling that no matter how hard Liam and I tried, it would end up being the latter. It didn’t seem like the odds were on our side.
Another yawn escaping me, I stretched my arms, feeling all of my muscles loosen and relax, before standing up, shuffling my feet over to my room as I wiped my eyes, yawning so large that a tear dripped down my cheek. I pressed the button near my door, and it opened up as I came inside. The door closed behind me, and I climbed into my bed, crawling up under the covers, pushing my hands down on the fluffy comforter, looking at the stars on the screen in front of me.
They illuminated the room, though not so much to be a nuisance. I looked up at the ceiling, seeing the gold reflect the shine from the screen as thoughts of my talk with Liam still lingered in my mind.
Here I was, lying back in a fluffy, comfortable bed, having the most luxurious time of my life, and I was alone. I could get a single, chilled grape delivered to my room and my mother and sister were likely eating stale bread and some cheap beans and rice every night for dinner. I was in the lap of luxury and they were struggling just to get by. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t deserve this.
I brought my left wrist up, my bracelet dangling in the air as I touched it, my fingers traipsing across the metal, a rustle in my ear. This was my only physical reminder of them, and I needed to make sure it stayed with me, no matter what.
As the minutes quickly went by, my mind started to settle down, the hyperactivity and thoughts of things I couldn’t control finally whittling away to nothing as the clock struck down, each minute going by another minute of sleep I would miss out on before another full day of excruciatingly long training. I had no idea what we had in store, but I knew it wouldn’t be easy, and that I’d need my rest if I were to get through it in one piece.
I rolled onto my right side, pulling the comforter up to block the little rays of light that the screen produced, before I took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and I felt the nerves and anxiety melt away from my body.
I might not have all of the answers right now, but maybe I would soon. For now, though, I just needed to rest.
Chapter Eight
There was a chirping wake-up call every morning that wasn’t kind, to say the least. It rang through my room, my eyes quickly opening, as I looked around frantically, wondering if there was some kind of evacuation, before quickly realizing it was just the alarm for us to get up. It went on for about twenty seconds, me pushing my pillow around my head, covering my ears, as I wished I were dreaming.
I reluctantly got up and walked to my closet, the same boring clothes in a row kind of a depressing sight; I wished they would allow us some kind of variety. I didn’t have the nicest clothes in my own closet at home, but at least they were all different, and not a bunch of shirts with a purple number six and black pants that always rode up a little in the worst places. It wasn’t exactly a fun time every morning.
The only good part was the shower, which was always as warm as I wanted it, unlike back home, where the warm water was sparse and didn’t last long, especially if you went after someone else. There had been far too many times when I awoke to get ready for work, only to bathe in ice water that left me with a runny nose and covered with goose bumps for the rest of the day. That was one good thing about being here, even if there were a thousand other reasons that were horrible.
The towels were white and fluffy, like I was rubbing myself against the softest fur, the soft, fluffy cotton threads absorbing all of the water from my head like magic. I didn’t do much to get ready. The staff left me, and presumably all of the other girls, a full set of makeup in case we wanted to get ourselves dolled up. I didn’t care too much about makeup anyway, let alone here, but I did put on a little mascara and the tiniest smudge of eyeliner, just in case Chet came back and shoved a camera in my face, which I knew he would at some point.
They had some breakfast waiting for us in the lobby area, a wide array of breads, pastries, fruits, cereals, and even some meat, which wasn’t always on the menu back home because of the price. In fact, I didn’t eat many fruits either, their deliciously sugary nectar too rich for our blood. I took full advantage here, though, piling strawberries, blueberries, pineapple, and watermelon on my plate, other competitors doing the same. The food always seemed to be fully stocked, even when we clawed and heaped piles of it for ourselves. This must be how the ultra rich ate their breakfast every morning.
“I hope you’re all filling up. You’re in for a rough time today,” Christian said, startling me as a piece of strawberry fell out of my mouth.
I looked at him, all of us looking at him, as we continued eating, stuffing our faces like a bunch of starved children who hadn’t been fed in days. Christian smiled, looking at his digiboard, before he opened his mouth again.
“You guys will start your actual training today. You will be graded after each phase, and if you pass, you will get one card choice for the competition,” Christian said.
“What’s the phase we’re training in today?” someone asked.
“Self-defense and attack with Borgis. We’ll see what you all have, so finish up your meals, because I’ll be coming back in fifteen minutes to pick you up,” Christian said, before walking away, a guard whispering something to him as he walked.
I wasn’t too thrilled, dreading having to do the self-defense and attack phase, as I knew it wasn’t one I was really going to use. I could use strategy and survival, as those would be necessary tools inside the grid, but I didn’t plan on attacking anyone, and I knew Liam wasn’t going to either, unless it was imperative for our survival or would keep us in the game. He promised me he would only do it in self-defense and only if his life or mine were on the line.
I soon stopped eating breakfast, my stomach starting to stick out as I felt more full than I had ever been before, which might backfire with this kind of physical training. I didn’t think I’d get a card for throwing up my breakfast on the middle of the stage. I might even lose a card for something like that. They didn’t play around here.
True to his word, Christian came back fifteen minutes later on the dot, rounding us all up, a guy from Chicago continuing to stuff his mouth even as we were walk
ing away. A woman, also from Chicago, slapped him and gave him a mean look, like he was embarrassing her. He must be the husband from the married couple. It looked like he was happy to be away from her cooking.
We walked into a room that was different, yet the same as the one from yesterday. The floor was comprised of black mats, the walls where white and sterile, and there was a stage up front, with Borgis, our instructor, standing atop of it with his hands behind his back. Weapons were all laid out on racks in front of him, tons of them. He looked at us all come in, watching us, before pulling his hand to his front and stroking his chin as we piled in, standing in front of him in groups of two.
“Good morning, and welcome to my training session. This is your first of five sessions, and if you pass today and master your skills, you will move on and get a card to use during the competition. If you should not pass, you won’t get another chance to make it up, so you better hope you do well,” Borgis said.
Borgis walked down the steps on the side of the stage, walking out in front of the weapons rack, before grabbing a staff from the rack and slamming the butt of it on the ground, his knuckles turning white as he squeezed it tightly. He gave us all a stern look, like he was trying to intimidate us, though I couldn’t say it worked on me. He looked more constipated than anything.
“As you will see, I have a variety of weapons for you to try out. While there will be three weapons depots scattered around the map. Some of you might have a weapon just as you start out, should you get a card for a specific weapon. There are blasters, rifles, staffs, swords, daggers, and more all here at your disposal. Today, though, we will only be testing out blasters and rifles, with a possibility of doing some others if we should have time. Some of you are probably wondering where we are going to test these out, but I feel like showing you instead of telling you,” Borgis said.
Borgis walked over to the wall, a keypad coming forward, before he punched in a bunch of numbers that I couldn’t see. The floor opened up as he got finished, and he stepped backwards, letting the tiles separate. Three giant shooting ranges came up from under the floor, each one enclosed so that you couldn’t hit someone else, as Borgis looked on, smiling, like a kid on Christmas morning. When the shooting ranges stopped moving upwards, stands came up from all sides, securing them in place, before they lit up, and we could see dummies inside swirling around.
