Suddenly Matilda burst to life, taking two steps across the top of the first stump before launching for the second. Unlike Ginger, she didn’t stop, one step across the top of the second stump before she leapt for the third. By the time she’d gotten to the fourth one, some of the crowd were cheering. The same set of concentration on her face, she passed over it onto the fifth, then the sixth, then the seventh. Although Spike had remained quiet until that moment, when he watched her make the final leap, he shouted, “Go on, Tilly.”
Matilda nailed the last jump before continuing forward off the final stump to land double footed on the soggy ground.
The cadets all shouted and clapped for her, Spike harder than any others.
Tank’s full-bellied laugh sounded like it didn’t belong to him, almost mechanical in tone. “Well, that, boys and girls, is how it’s done. Nancy, you’re up next.”
But Nancy Humberto shook her head.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I’m not doing it,” she said. “I know I won’t make it.”
Tank closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. When he opened them again, he looked at Abbie Shrink, who also shook her head. This time he released a hard shot of air, his cheeks puffing and the whites of his eyes standing out on his face. He looked close to shouting before Jane Strange clambered up onto the first stump. “At last! Someone else with the stones to give it a go.”
Jane Strange fell at the first jump like many of the following cadets. Many more refused, Hugh being one of them. And Spike couldn’t blame them. None of them had designs to be the next protector and they weren’t built for the task. Several of the cadets who hadn’t made it were still lying down nursing injuries. Elysium Cooch still had blood pouring from her nose. But twelve of them had made it to the other side, including Ranger, Max, and Olga.
Tank slapped Spike so hard on the back, he stumbled forward. “The final cadet. Can you make it thirteen through to round two?”
With all of the other team leaders watching, Spike glanced at Bleach, who, for the first time since he’d met him, almost smiled. Maybe not close to a smile, but the look of utter disdain had certainly left his face.
Being the final one to do the task, Spike had gone through a gamut of emotions. At points he thought he’d smash it, but then he saw someone else slip and fall. His legs shook as he stood up on the first stump, and when he looked along the eight steps, he saw Ranger waiting at the end, staring back at him.
Olga shoved Magma’s son aside, moving him out of Spike’s line of sight. “You can do it, Spike.”
“William,” Ranger said.
The rain coming down harder than ever, Spike filled his lungs. He’d do his best to copy Matilda’s technique.
Spike reached stump two with ease, then three and four. Like Matilda had, he took a step in between each one and leapt for the next. Stump five, stump six, stump seven. But when he got to the seventh stump, instead of using his momentum to jump for the final one, his courage abandoned him and he stopped, his shoes slipping a little beneath him. Many of the cadets gasped. The longest jump of the lot and he now had no run-up.
“Oh, look,” Ranger said. “He’s nearly made it, and surprise, surprise, he’s bottled it again.”
Tank’s voice cut through the rain like a thunderclap. “Shut up, Ranger, you jumped-up little moron. Give him the same respect everyone gave you before I disqualify you for putting the other contestants off.”
It worked, silencing Ranger and making the boy’s pale face redden. But it did nothing to imbue Spike with confidence. As he looked at the gap, he shook his head. No way could he make the last jump.
Chapter 36
Spike led with his right foot stretched out in front of him. The gap seemed impossibly wide, but he made it … just. However, the second he put pressure down, his foot slipped, fire racing up his right shin as it sheered along the edge of the stump. His knee slammed on the hard surface, rods of electric pain streaking up his thighs, sending nausea into his stomach.
Caught between screaming and vomiting, Spike reached out and hugged the final stump, gripping on with all he had. Although he’d landed it, his head spun from the pain and he could still fall off.
A few seconds later, Spike stood up on wobbly legs to the sound of applause and cheers.
His shin still on fire, Spike tested his kneecap by moving his right leg. It still worked. A small amount of pressure on it to test it would still hold his weight, he jumped off the stump and landed with the rest of the successful cadets. Olga and Max congratulated him while the rest of them, including Matilda, turned their backs on him. Surely he’d just shown her he could do this. While not the best, he had what it took to get through.
All thirteen of them managed the rope climb, the new rules of being able to use their feet making it easier than intended.
“Spike,” Tank said, “you first with splitting the wood. You’re from the agricultural district, so this should be a doddle for you, right?”
But Spike didn’t reply. Instead, he walked away from the group of thirteen over to one of the axes and logs. On his way past Ranger, he heard the boy hiss, “You’re going to fail,” but he paid him no mind.
The rest of the cadets watched on, everyone soaked through. The wind whipping up, Spike wiped his hands on his sodden trousers and wriggled an axe free from its stump. While testing the weight of the thing, he tightened his grip on the handle. Lighter than the one they had at home, he still knew how to use it.
Spike rested the head of his axe on his lump of wood to get his range before he wound it back and drove a hard swing at his target. The shoom of the cut rang out and a piece of wood about a quarter of the size of the main log fell away.
Two more swings, he cut another quarter and then cut the final piece in half. Not even Ranger could comment when he’d finished and stacked the four almost identical pieces on the stump. The cadets applauded him, and Tank acknowledged his success with a nod. There hadn’t been many times in training where Spike had been able to prove his competence. Although Matilda still continued to ignore him.
Spike took his place by the final obstacle and waited while the others tried to join him.
Only Ranger made it through to the final task with Spike. All of the others gave it a good go, but they either failed to split the log enough times or their axe glanced off their intended target. When Matilda did it, he wanted to call out her mistakes to her. Hold the axe by the end of the handle and watch the piece of wood she was cutting, not the head of the axe. But in light of the frosty turn their relationship had taken, she’d probably ignore him anyway.
“Two contenders left,” Tank said, leading them over to the final challenge. “How perfect.” The sound of his steps echoed as he walked up onto the wooden platform beneath the circular latticework of wood. “You’ve both done well, but there can only be one winner. The boy who holds on longest will get maximum points. You ready?”
“I am,” Ranger said, but Spike didn’t reply, letting the stocky boy lead the way up to the platform.
Spike had seen the pulleys when Tank first showed them the final task. No doubt they’d lift the latticework high in the air. But how high? It didn’t matter. He just needed to hold on.
As much as Spike would have chosen differently, Tank lined him and Ranger up so they faced one another on opposite sides of the wooden frame.
“Ranger,” Tank said, “you ready?”
Instead of responding to Tank, Ranger stared at Spike. “Of course.”
“William?”
Spike nodded.
Tank stepped off the wooden platform to the sound of a winch turning. Spike looked to see Ore—the woman who’d saved him from being killed on day one—operating it. The wooden lattice lifted above them, dragging Spike’s arms up with it. By the time he’d reached full stretch, Ranger’s feet had already left the ground.
The cadets cheered, their words mixing together as a swell of excitement. As much as Ranger wanted to look at Spike, Spi
ke turned his face away, the stinging rain slamming against him. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breaths to keep himself calm.
At least a minute passed before Spike opened his eyes again. He looked at Ranger opposite him and saw the twist of his features. He was struggling already. When he looked down, he saw they were at least six feet above the wooden platform. Matilda and the other runners-up stood closer than the rest of the crowd. She still didn’t look at him.
It took for Fright to walk over to the wooden platform for Spike to see a section of it could be pulled away. It would make the six-foot drop more like ten as they fell through the middle of the structure.
“Now, boys and girls,” Tank said, “when you’re outside these walls, you will be challenged. You’ll have to do things like jumping, climbing, and chopping, and if you don’t, you’ll die.” He nodded at Fright, who pulled a section of the platform away. It released the shrill cry of the diseased below them.
“So,” Tank went on, “we wanted to recreate the consequences in training.” He turned to look up at Spike and Ranger. “You boys best hold on, because points are now the least of your worries.”
Spike shook to look down. Not only had his drop nearly doubled, but it would land one of them in a well filled with the diseased.
“You have five minutes to hold on,” Tank shouted.
“You won’t do it,” Ranger said.
As much as Spike had tried to ignore Ranger up until that moment, he broke and looked at the boy opposite him.
“You might as well let go now, William. Show everyone what you’re made of. End it here before you get your team killed beyond the wall.”
The sound of his own pulse a kick drum through his skull, Spike looked down again. The diseased stretched their atrophied arms up and worked their mouths. Mouths filled with yellow teeth. This wasn’t a test. This was life and death.
Spike shook his head and closed his eyes, but it didn’t stop the shake running through him. His heart sped up. Impossible to hold onto the wooden bar above, he shook his head again. No, he had to get through this. He had to be stronger than this. He had to prove to them he could be the next apprentice.
Suddenly his grip failed, the lattice of wood rushing away from him as he fell.
Chapter 37
The first Spike knew of the net beneath him came when it took his weight, his neck snapping backwards when his fall stopped much sooner than he expected. It sagged, dropping him down close to the diseased, their rotten vinegar stench smothering him as several clawing fingers swiped against his back.
The tension in the net lifted Spike a little, pulling him out of the creatures’ range. The same feeling he’d had in the hall, invisible hands reached up and throttled him, tightening around his throat, making it harder to breathe. His heart pounded with such ferocity it felt like it had trebled in size, the kick drum boom consuming him.
The rain lashed against Spike as he lay on his back gasping. It came down so hard he almost couldn’t see Ranger hanging on above. Almost. But it would have taken a lot to miss the sadistic grin peering down on him. The clack of the winch sounded outside the well, Ranger lowering with it.
Even with Ranger over him, the sound of the creatures below took most of Spike’s attention. Their tormented moans and groans. Their snarling, hissing fury. Paralysed in the net, his body had betrayed him again, and worst of all, he lay there like a fly in a spider’s web, waiting for Ranger to get lowered to him so he could witness his weakness up close.
“Stop!”
The sound of the winch halted and Spike looked for the person who’d said it.
When he saw Bleach’s face appear over the top of him, he stared into his grey eyes, his breaths still rapid. Although his team leader frowned down at him—another person passing their judgement—Spike watched him wink as he shouted, “I think he’s hurt himself. Hold the winch.”
“Do you expect me to hang around here all day?” Ranger shouted.
“You’re a strong lad. I’m sure you’ll last an extra few seconds.” Leaning over and reaching down into the well, Bleach spoke so only Spike heard him. “This is your only chance to save face. No one has to see you’re panicking if you play along, okay?”
Being called out on his panic somehow made it more real. Spike shook his head and gasped where he lay.
“Come on, boy, I’m just trying to throw you a bone here. We’ll deal with this away from prying eyes. I won’t offer this again.”
A look at the large outstretched hand, Spike glanced up at Ranger’s feet dangling above him. Bleach leant over the well in a way that meant Ranger couldn’t see him anymore.
Spike reached up and took Bleach’s hand.
The strength of his team leader made him gasp as the big man dragged him out of the hole like a mother cat moving her kitten. “You’ve hurt your right ankle from landing awkwardly.”
Affecting a limp, Spike hobbled out of the well, put his arm around his team leader, and bobbed down the stairs with his aid. The rain hammered against the back of his head from where he focused on the wooden steps and then the soggy ground.
Bleach cleared the way. “Stand back, everyone. Give him some room. And while you’re there, give it up for a great competitor.”
Hard to tell where the sound of the rain ended and the applause began, Spike kept his attention on the ground. Stars swam in his vision from where his throat tightened further.
Again speaking so only Spike heard him, Bleach said, “Just focus on putting one step in front of the other. Don’t think about anything else. Just one step at a time. Your breaths will come back to you.”
Before he knew it, Spike could only hear the rain, the sound of the crowd left behind in the training area.
They were walking past the gym when he finally let go of his limp and moved away from Bleach’s paternal half hug. “I don’t understand. I used to go to the square all the time and watch the protectors come back with the heads. It didn’t even bother me when we were in the arena and they had the creature in the box.”
“But it’s different. They were just heads, and the diseased in the main event is contained in a glass prison.”
“The one in the gym was behind glass.”
“But that was after what happened at the gates.” So Bleach had noticed his panic in the gym. “You can’t underestimate the shock of what happened to you with that turned cadet. You nearly died; that’s bound to leave an impression.”
The words lifted Spike’s pulse as if transporting him back to that moment. He managed to settle it with another deep breath. “Thanks for bailing me out.”
“It’s okay.”
He didn’t need to tell Spike that time was running out. In three weeks he needed to make sure he could cope on his own. But at that moment, only his steps mattered. He put one foot in front of the other, his chest loosening with each pace.
Chapter 38
The rain continued to come down hard, driving against the top of Spike’s head as he and Bleach walked to the dining hall to join the rest of the cadets. They hadn’t spoken much, taking the time away from everyone to get changed into drier clothes. Not that it made any difference after thirty seconds of being re-exposed to the elements.
Bleach walked ahead of Spike when they got to the dining hall’s entrance, and opened the door for him. “Everything’s going to be fine. You’re not there yet, but we still have about three weeks to make sure you’re ready to go outside the gates. I can see you’ve got it in you. But it’s not about what I can see, it’s about you seeing it too.”
The words gave Spike enough of a lift to help him step into the hall. He pulled his shoulders back and nodded to himself. He could do it.
The aromatic uppercut from the humid room nearly drove Spike backwards. A pungent mix of stew, damp, and sweaty teenage bodies mixed into a near palpable funk. While breathing through his mouth, he looked over at Matilda. Like always, she had Ranger in her ear. He’d never hear what the cretin said to her, and as much as
his mind would imagine it if he let it run wild, it wouldn’t serve any purpose to go there. It would do nothing to help him become the next apprentice like he’d promised her, and his expectation of what the boy said would probably be far more offensive than the reality. Matilda could look after herself and she’d let Ranger know if he crossed a line.
The cadets closest to Spike fell quiet at his entrance, a ripple effect moving away from them back across the hall. He watched the faces turn his way until the silence hit Ranger. The boy wore his usual smug grin, winking at Spike when they made eye contact.
Bleach broke the quiet. “William’s okay. I was being oversensitive. Having broken my ankle myself when I was a kid, I was worried he’d done the same. But he’s all okay and ready to continue competing.”
“As long as we don’t come across any more diseased,” Ranger said.
Other than the guffawing Lance at Ranger’s side, the comment fell dead. Hopefully that meant no one else knew he’d panicked. Or maybe they just kept their mouths shut to avoid Sarge’s wrath.
But where Sarge would normally discipline Ranger, he chose not to. He didn’t even look close to it. Maybe he agreed with him.
A shove in the back from Bleach, Spike stumbled forward before he took his encouragement and found his place at team Minotaur’s table. As he sat down, the attention of his team on him, Hugh leaned close to him and whispered, “Are you okay?”
Spike nodded and focused on the table, spooning a bland mouthful of stew as a low murmur of conversation started up around them.
A few seconds and mouthfuls later, the screech of Sarge’s chair, followed by his heavy gait across the stage, silenced the room again. He held a stick of chalk in his thick pinch as he walked over to a blackboard attached to the wall. It had each of the teams’ names on it, points already filled out for all of them save for Minotaur, Dragon, and Bigfoot. The other teams were all within a few digits of one another at around the thirty-point mark.
Protectors - Book one of Beyond These Walls: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Page 17
