When a hand grabbed Flynn, he turned in the direction of it and raised his fist.
But then she spoke. “Flynn?”
“Rose? Do you know the way out of here?”
Rose took his hand and guided it over to the wall next to them. A groove ran through it.
“What is it?” Flynn asked.
“The way out of here. Feel it,” Rose said, “it’s been carved into the wall on purpose. The way it runs up and down, I dunno, it seems to be here for our help.”
“What if it’s a trick?”
“What other options do we have?”
The second Flynn took to think about it already felt like too long. All the while they debated what to do, the other two were getting closer to the exit. “Come on, then,” Flynn said. “Let’s follow it.”
Rose led the way and, although too dark for him to see her, Flynn heard her ahead of him as he followed the trail along the wooden wall with his right hand.
Every shuffle forwards seemed to take more skin from Flynn’s kneecaps. The hard ground became sandpaper against his fragile body. His trousers did little to protect his knees. Not that a few grazes mattered compared to the sledgehammers waiting for third place and below.
Within about ten seconds, Flynn’s clothes clung to his sweating form. But he pushed on, the hot air hard to breathe, his throat close to cracking with dryness.
Several twists and turns later and Flynn saw daylight up ahead. “We’ve found it, Rose.”
But Rose didn’t respond. Instead, she sped up as she headed for what looked to be the maze’s exit, the scuffle of her knees and shoes scratching over the hard ground.
But what if they’d gone full circle? What if they were about to step out of the entrance to the maze rather than the exit? Not that they had any other choice. They had to check it out.
Rose slipped from the maze first and Flynn crawled out a second later, back into the glare of the sun. When he stood up, the slight breeze cooled him and he looked over the top of the maze to see the brute on the other side, waiting by the entrance. He hadn’t even had the chance to enter it.
Chapter 40
“Great!” the large ginger man called out, his arms falling limp at his sides. But before he could say anything else, a guard next to him bit down on his bottom lip and swung his sledgehammer.
The loud crack ran a weakness through Flynn’s legs that nearly threw him to the ground. He watched the hammer catch the brute flush on the temple, robbing him of his next complaint, turning his legs bandy, and knocking him down dead.
“Well done,” Mistress squealed and walked over to Flynn and Rose as if a man hadn’t just been executed right behind them. A broad grin split her witch’s face. “You found the trail, didn’t you?”
Neither Flynn nor Rose replied, both of them looking between Mistress and the dead brute on the other side of the maze.
“Oh, look,” Mistress said and hunched down to peer into the maze’s exit. She sang the next few words as if in celebration of what would come. “Here comes another one.”
One of the guards with a sledgehammer ran over and wound it back.
When the woman in her mid-twenties poked her head from the maze, the guard swung for her and yelled, “Fore!”
Flynn winced and turned away to the sound of the crowd laughing and a deep crunch as the woman’s skull gave in. When he looked back, two more guards each had an arm of the woman and were dragging her limp form from the maze. Blood ran from the huge dent in the side of her head.
They dragged the dead woman past Mistress, who paid her no attention. The life of a number didn’t matter.
Nobody spoke as the scuffling sound of the final prisoner called out of the maze. Flynn’s ragged breaths rocked his tired frame and every time he swallowed, a heave lifted up his throat from the dryness turning it tacky.
As the sound of the teenager grew louder, Flynn’s pulse sped up. He’d be sticking his head from the maze any time soon and some oaf with a sledgehammer would try to knock it clean off his shoulders.
Flynn saw Mistress nod at the next sledgehammer guard, who ran to the maze’s exit and wound his weapon back like the other one had.
It took just a few more seconds before the prisoner poked his head from the maze. He didn’t seem to notice the guard, because he looked up at Mistress and smiled. The poor bastard thought he’d won.
The sledgehammer clattered into the side of his face, forcing his left eye out and turning him instantly flaccid. The blow opened a deep split in the boy’s head and Flynn turned his back on him. He’d seen enough.
Chapter 41
Flynn kept his back turned on the dead prisoner at the maze’s exit. The sound of dragging feet ran over the ground from where some of the guards pulled the corpse away, but he still didn’t look back. It took for someone to tap him on the shoulder before he turned around.
Where he’d expected to see Mistress, he gasped to see the Queen staring at him.
Flynn glanced at Rose, who watched on with her mouth wide. He then looked back at the Queen and her angular features.
After several dry gulps, Flynn accepted he wouldn’t get his breath back and did his best to ride out his fear. He tried to speak in the presence of her stony expression, opening and closing his mouth several times. But he couldn’t find the words.
A stiff back that ran all the way up to an arched eyebrow and the Queen spoke. “Quite squeamish, it would seem.”
He didn’t reply.
A look from Flynn to Rose and back to Flynn again and she said, “You two came out of there awfully close together. One might think you were working as a team.”
“Um …” Flynn said.
Before he could say anything else, the Queen spoke again. “It’s fine. Work together all you like. You’re not trying to kill each other”—she glanced over at where the brute had been—“like lesser people would do. I admire that.”
When Flynn followed her line of sight, he saw they’d taken the brute away and were dragging him into an abandoned shop. The other two prisoners were being taken that way too.
“It’s how we get to use this town for our games,” the Queen said.
Flynn stared at her.
“We don’t live here. This town, like most towns in the area, are hostile places run by gangs. We use it for holding our prisoners and for the games. In return, they get eighteen fresh corpses as payment every time.”
Another look at the shop the bodies had been dragged into and Flynn looked for the rats in the shadows. He didn’t see any.
“Despite their brutish appearance,” the Queen said, “the gang who run this town are quite nice when you get to know them. And no one in my community eats people. There isn’t any point when you can trap animals.”
The thud of Flynn’s heart boomed through him. He’d finally recovered his breath, but he currently existed on the edge of a panic attack. If he said or did the wrong thing, the gang would have nineteen corpses to feed on.
Flynn straightened his back as if it would help compose him, and although he stood taller than the Queen, her presence dwarfed him.
“Anyway,” the Queen said, “One and Sixteen, only one of you can walk away from this. We need to take you to the final trial of this course. The winner will be welcomed into our community. The loser will be trapped and imprisoned again. They’ll get their chance to escape, but they’ll have to go through the games again to do it.”
A glance at Rose and Flynn saw her pale hue. No doubt he looked as bad. Neither of them wanted to go back to that prison. But could he sell her out to save himself?
“Come on, darlings,” the Queen said as she walked away, her hips swaying, her dark trousers clinging to her tight bottom. “Follow me.”
Chapter 42
They used the back of an old lorry. It had been patched up after years of corrosion had taken bites from it. A completely new wooden top lay across it. Hopefully the rusty frame could support their weight.
Two ladders rested ag
ainst the lorry.
“You have to pick one each,” the Queen said. “One, you go first.”
Before she went to her ladder, Rose walked over to Flynn and lifted his left hand with hers. Not a shake, more a gentle squeeze. “Good luck,” she muttered and pulled a tight smile at him.
The breath left Flynn’s lungs as he stared at the girl. Only one of them would walk away from this. If only they’d met in better circumstances. Because he didn’t have the words, he simply nodded at her.
Rose dropped Flynn’s hand and picked the left ladder. Flynn walked over to the right.
As the pair climbed to the top, the crowd fell silent, many of them watching on with open mouths. Even the Queen seemed gripped by what she saw, her attention on Rose more than Flynn. His pulse quickened, anxiety buzzing in his guts. She’d made the correct choice, he knew it. He’d have to go through the games again.
When they reached the wooden roof of the old trailer, the Queen called out to them. “Now wait, I need to get around to the other side.”
In the time it took the Queen to walk around the trailer, Flynn looked down at where they had to jump. Two piles of soiled mattresses.
The Queen said, “One pile will give way and throw you back into prison.” She winked up at Rose. “One of you will have to start all over again and earn the number one brand.”
It suddenly dawned on Flynn and he looked from Rose to the Queen and back to Rose again. “This is your second time around.”
Why hadn’t he seen it before? Rose’s number one brand had been over her left kidney where everyone else had them over their right.
Rose winced as if apologising and lifted her shirt to reveal the skin over her right kidney. It had an angry red cross branded through the number six. “I’m sorry, Flynn.”
“So you knew which ladder to pick? You bitch.”
Rose shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Right!” the Queen called out before Flynn could say anything else. “On my count, I want you both to jump. The best of luck to you. May the best person win. Although I think we all know who’ll win this one.”
“One,” the Queen called and Flynn ground his jaw. He’d have to go through the games again.
“Two.”
Although Flynn stared at Rose, she didn’t look back at him. Tears ran down her cheeks and she shook where she stood. “I can’t believe you’ve screwed me over,” he said to her.
“Three.”
For a brief moment neither of them jumped. The Queen stared up at them and said, “Don’t make me say it again.”
“Fuck you, Rose,” Flynn said and he jumped. He saw Rose in his peripheral vision jump with him.
Chapter 43
As Flynn crashed down, he flinched in anticipation of the mattresses giving way beneath him. When they didn’t, the shock of it snapped up his body from the ground remaining firm.
The pile of mattresses beside him folded in on themselves and pulled Rose under.
Flynn stared at the hole Rose had vanished through and the crowd erupted into cheers and whoops. Because the mattresses had fallen down the hole with her, they’d covered her, obscuring her from his view.
When Flynn looked at the Queen, he saw her smiling. “What just happened?”
A tilt of her head to one side and she said, “You won, my dear.”
“Did you switch the holes around? Did you trick Rose?”
“No. Number one knew exactly what she was doing.”
Flynn’s jaw dropped and he lost his breath for a second. “She knew she’d picked the route back to the prison?”
The Queen’s smile broadened and she spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “She did. What a gesture, eh?”
Some of the crowd made soft sounds at Rose’s sacrifice.
“It would seem she values your freedom more than her own, Flynn. Notice how you’re Flynn now too? You’re not a number anymore. You’ve made it, honey.”
The way she called him honey sent a chill snaking through Flynn. But his mind quickly returned to Rose and he looked into the hole next to him again. She lay beneath the pile of mattresses somewhere, waiting to be taken back to the prison. Why had she sacrificed herself for him?
Before Flynn could say anything else, a couple of the Queen’s guards came forward. Two women dressed in royal blue, one of them had a sack in her hands.
“Please forgive the need to cover your face again,” the Queen said, “but we still want to keep the whereabouts of our community secret. We don’t know if we can trust you yet.”
The world turned dark as one of the guards slipped the hood over Flynn’s head. It had a halitosis reek from having been used a lot, and he screwed his nose up against the stale smell of it.
“We’re going to take you back, feed you, clothe you, and let you get some rest. No one will ever talk about you being in the games again. Once you enter our community, the shame of the trials is left behind. But know this, you’ve just earned the respect of everyone in the royal complex. It’s no mean feat getting through the games. Well done, Flynn, you’ve proven yourself worthy.” She raised her voice. “Let’s hear it for the champ!”
The crowd erupted. The white noise of it beneath the hood spun Flynn out more than before.
Much more gentle than the previous guards, the royal guards led Flynn away. Whatever happened, he needed to get Rose out of that dungeon. He owed her everything.
Chapter 44
If Flynn were to guess, he’d say about half an hour had passed. In that time, he’d walked a little way and then rode on the back of a cart, which, from the clop, clop, clopping noise, he assumed to be pulled by a horse or donkey.
He heard huge gates open. They passed through them and finally the cart stopped. Someone helped him down, gentle in their handling of him. It stood in stark contrast to how they’d treated him in the dungeon and he didn’t trust it one bit. Because he’d seen just how cruel this community could be, he refused to lower his guard.
Flynn walked over uneven ground—it felt like it might be a field—then it levelled out and the acoustics changed, the snap of their footsteps showing they’d entered a building of some sort.
Although Flynn had plenty of questions, he didn’t ask any. They’d called him the victor, but he’d been a prisoner until then. A prisoner who had no right to ask anything. The illusion of free will didn’t wash with him, especially with the hood still over his head.
It sounded like the space they walked through opened up. The echo off the walls and ceiling showed it stretched wide and high. The sound of footsteps that had been behind him pulled next to him as their party clearly spread out. A group of people with him, but he couldn’t begin to guess at how many. If he tried to fight now, he’d undoubtedly lose.
Besides, Flynn needed to save Rose. He needed to bide his time and work out where they kept her so he could get her out. As wary as it made him to be there, he had no other choice. Anywhere else and he wouldn’t have a chance of finding her location.
The acoustics changed again as they entered what sounded like another corridor. The walls and ceiling sounded like they’d closed in and just one pair of footsteps came with him.
Then they stopped. The person with him snapped what sounded like a door handle down and the gentle creak of hinges called out through the quiet. They grabbed Flynn’s elbow and gently led him into the space before pulling his hood away.
Every time they’d removed Flynn’s hood, he’d had to blink against the change in light. Now they’d done it inside, the adjustment felt much less violent.
When he could see, Flynn took the place in. A room larger than the one he’d had in Home, it had a window too. It had a double bed in the middle of it and a chair in one corner, suggesting he might actually get some leisure time in this place. A tin bath lay beneath the window with a bucket of water beside it.
He’d been so busy taking in the room, he only now noticed who’d led him in there. A step back as he looked at her regal face and he stammered
, “Um … I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was you. Sorry.”
The Queen smiled at him. A genuine smile for the first time since he’d seen her watching the games. She seemed much more relaxed than before. Her look spoke of a friend much more than a leader as she said, “Welcome to the royal complex.”
Before Flynn could reply, she added, “There are some clothes on the bed for you. Get yourself cleaned up and I’ll show you the rest of the place when you’re done.” And with that, she left him alone in the room.
Chapter 45
The clean joggers lay soft against Flynn’s freshly washed skin. A bit too thick for the summer heat, but it felt great to wear something comfortable and clean. Especially when the bath water had been so cold.
Despite warming up since he’d dried off, Flynn still felt the shock of the frigid bath in his tense muscles. The brand on his back burned from being submerged and no doubt had infection deep inside of it.
Flynn stared at the door to his room as he walked towards it. It had a small round window in it for people to look in, but he couldn’t see anything outside other than the wall opposite.
When he stepped out, Flynn found the Queen waiting in the corridor like she said she would. “Sorry to keep you,” he said.
She pulled her straight black hair behind her left ear and shook her head. “Don’t be sorry, you needed to get yourself cleaned up.” She looked him up and down. “How’s the brand?”
Like she gave a fuck. “Sore.”
“I can imagine. We have a cream for that. I’ll make sure you get some.”
It would have been nice if the cunt hadn’t branded him in the first place. Despite her niceties now, he couldn’t forget what she did to people. The kind of sick freak who made murder a sport. He couldn’t ever forget that.
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