by Tarah Benner
“We have to get him to the medical ward,” I say in an unsteady voice.
Miles is right beside me, and I can see Blaze’s worried face swimming behind him. The two of them grip Eli under the arms and hoist him onto their shoulders. He groans as he’s carried out of the ring and into the jostling crowd.
The spectators are growing more restless, jeering and yelling and checking their interfaces for their winnings. Some are already trying to push their way out of the confined space, but traffic is bottlenecking near the narrow shaft.
“Get out of the way!” I yell, ducking around Miles to shove people out of our path.
I get lots of irritated glances from ExCon guys, and a few of them even spit at Eli’s feet. He’s in no shape to retaliate, so I settle on elbowing them all out of the way as hard as I can.
As soon as we enter the narrow shaft, my lungs seize, and the walls seem to be closing in. It doesn’t help that there’s a solid mass of people in front of us and behind us. Their voices are magnified in the narrow space, and I’m struggling to get enough oxygen to my lungs.
It’s all in your head, I think. You can breathe just fine. We’ll be out soon.
Finally the crowd breaks free, and we spill out into the main tunnel. Blaze and Miles look tired from carrying Eli, but they don’t look even half as bad as he does. One of his eyes is fully swollen shut now, and his nose is engorged to twice its normal size.
They drag him up the emergency stairwell and the escalator and onto the megalift, which is mercifully empty. The doors give a friendly ding as we arrive at the medical ward, and my eyes go instantly to Sawyer at the front desk.
“Oh shit!” she yells when she sees us.
I stare at her, completely dumbfounded. I’m sure she would never act so unprofessional if the ward wasn’t deserted, but I’m grateful for her urgency.
She summons an electric wheelchair, and Miles and Blaze drop Eli into it. He groans a little as the motion jostles his leg, and Sawyer cranks up the speed on the thing.
“What the hell happened?” she demands, jogging to keep up with the wheelchair.
Miles seems a little surprised by Sawyer’s demeanor. No one else says anything, so I answer. “Eli entered a blind fight like an idiot.”
“What?”
Eli turns his head. Even though he can only see out of one eye, I know he’s glaring at me. We reach an exam room, and Miles and Sawyer help Eli onto the table.
“It was Angel Lopez,” Blaze explains, as though Sawyer has any freaking clue who that is. “Nobody wins against Angel.”
“He might’ve won if it weren’t for that damn leg,” says Miles.
“Your leg!” Sawyer shrieks, grabbing Eli’s shorts and yanking one leg up his thigh.
Eli looks annoyed at having yet another girl practically undressing him, but Sawyer doesn’t notice or care. There’s even more blood soaking through the dressing than before, and she fixes Eli with a deadly look. “Are you insane? Your leg was just starting to heal.”
“It’s fine,” says Eli gruffly.
“And you look like hell,” she adds, producing a syringe and plunging the contents into his bicep none too gently. “This should bring the swelling down pretty fast, but I need to see your leg.”
She pulls the bandage off, and it looks as though Eli has ripped his stitches. He sucks in a burst of air from between his teeth, and Sawyer rolls her eyes as though she wants to tell him to stop being a baby. She sprays some serious-looking disinfectant on the wound, and Eli grips the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles whiten.
“I can’t believe Shane brought Angel out of retirement,” says Miles.
I glance at Blaze and realize Eli and Miles still have no idea that he’s Shane’s son.
“You weren’t meant to win that fight,” Blaze says to Eli. “If you had, there would have been trouble. Pops made a lot of money on you tonight. And not just on tickets. The odds for you to win were insane. Nobody thought he could find a real contender.”
“Shane is your father?” Eli asks him, looking just as shocked as I felt.
“I didn’t grow up with the bastard, if that’s what you’re thinking. My mom raised me. She’s Operations. Ol’ Shane barely claimed me until he realized he could use me for the family business, but he wasn’t too happy when I got placed in Recon.”
“Son of a bitch,” Eli mutters. “That’s 500 credits down the toilet.”
“You bet on yourself?”
“Miles bet for me.” Eli turns to him. “How much did you lose?”
Miles clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably. “Actually, I . . . uh, made two grand.”
“You bet against me?” Eli splutters. I can’t tell if he’s insulted or impressed.
“The odds for you to win were ten to one. I couldn’t not bet against you.”
“And where is this money?”
Miles rolls his eyes. “I already transferred it to Harper’s account for safekeeping.”
“Thanks,” I say, relieved that we now have nearly enough to get everyone to 119. Blaze looks confused by our exchange, so I decide to change the subject.
“Hey. What do you know about the beginner fights?” I ask.
Eli scoffs in disgust, but I ignore him. He is in no position to lecture me after what I just witnessed.
“You mean the fight you accepted with Marta Moreno?”
I nod.
“I know you’re not supposed to win that one,” says Blaze. “It’s pretty obvious to anyone with . . . eyes.”
Sawyer is staring at me as though I’ve grown two heads, and I realize she isn’t used to this side of me. She didn’t grow up in the Institute, where I frequently got into trouble for fighting, and she doesn’t understand the fight-or-die Recon culture.
“But I could win,” I say to Blaze. “They wouldn’t make it a completely uneven match, would they?”
“You’re good, Harper. But Marta is . . . insane. I’d be careful if I were you.”
He glances at Eli, who’s grown silent in the last few moments.
“I’m gonna go. Feel better . . .” Blaze trails off, and I know he almost called Eli “sir.”
I grin at his back, and Miles clears his throat, too. “You gonna be okay?” he asks.
Eli nods.
“All right. I’m getting out of here, too. Doctor stuff gives me the creeps.” He turns to Sawyer. “No offense.”
Sawyer rolls her eyes, and Miles follows Blaze out.
There’s a long awkward pause as Sawyer finishes stitching and redressing Eli’s wound. I keep glancing up at him, but he won’t meet my gaze.
At least whatever stuff Sawyer gave him seems to be working. The swelling in his eye has already gone down, and his nose is almost back to its normal size.
Sawyer finishes up and reads the tension in the room. “You should be fine,” she says. “But come right back if you get a fever. That could mean infection’s set in.” She levels Eli with a serious expression. “No more fighting. Stay off your damn leg. Next time, I’m just going to chop it off to save everybody the trouble.”
She breezes out of the room, leaving me and Eli alone.
“What were you thinking?” I ask as soon as she’s gone.
“I could ask you the same thing!” he says, snapping his eyes up to mine. “You think this was bad? This was nothing compared to what it’s going to be like against Marta.”
“I’m glad you have so much confidence in me,” I say, feeling a little wounded that no one thinks I even have a shot against her.
“It’s not about confidence, Harper. It’s about being realistic. She has a lot more experience than you. She’s been in real fights, for one thing.”
“So have I.”
He grimaces. “Your little girl fights in the Institute? Please. You won’t last five minutes in the ring with her.”
“Coming from the guy who did so well tonight!” I snap. “I can’t believe you entered a blind fight knowing how dangerous it would be.”
“Really? You can’t?” Now he’s pissed.
“No, I can’t! I can’t believe you’d risk your life for something so stupid!”
“Stupid? Stupid?” He looks furious beyond words but somehow manages to find them anyway. “I did this for you, Harper! I did it so you wouldn’t have to fight Marta! I did it so I could get you out of here!”
Whatever I’d expected him to say, it wasn’t that. I take an automatic step back in shock.
“What?”
“If I’d won, we wouldn’t have needed the winnings from your fight. It was a long shot, but it was worth it if it meant you didn’t have to get in the ring with her.”
I just stare at him, utterly dumbfounded.
Eli’s breathing hard, and as soon as the shock washes over me, it’s replaced by a burning shame.
“I . . . I didn’t know,” I say quietly, feeling my face heat up.
“Well, you should have.” Eli still sounds angry, but his voice has lost that uncontrolled edge. “You should really trust me more.”
“I do trust you,” I whisper.
“Then trust me when I tell you not to do that fight. I still made three grand tonight. With that and Miles’s winnings, it’s enough for you and Celdon to get yourselves out.”
I shake my head. “I’m not going to leave you here.”
“I’ll be right behind you. Just another fight or two, and —”
“No. We leave together, or we don’t leave at all,” I say firmly.
He sighs. Eli should have known I wouldn’t take him up on his offer, but he still thinks I’m being stupid. “Just think about it, Harper.”
“Okay,” I say, even though I’ve already made up my mind. Eli looks exhausted, and I don’t want to fight with him anymore.
“Feel better,” I say, crossing to the door. “I’ll see you later.”
He nods, and I turn to go before I lose it. I’m a tangled mess of emotion: fear, relief, confusion, and a strange warmth spreading through my chest.
Eli entered that fight for me.
It makes sense now, and I wonder how I didn’t get it before.
Suddenly I feel a hand clench around my arm.
“Hey —”
Before I can turn around, somebody yanks me backward. I yelp in surprise, but there’s no one around. Another hand clamps down over my mouth, and the air tightens in my lungs.
This isn’t good.
I thrust out a back kick, but my assailant is too fast.
I’m yanked into a supply closet, and panic surges through me. I swing out wildly toward my attacker and hit something solid.
“Hey! Watch it!” comes a familiar voice from the darkness.
An interface floods the closet in blue light. It’s Sawyer, rubbing her shoulder.
“What the hell?” I pant, trying to calm my racing heart.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Geez! You could have just messaged me or calmly called me over here.”
She glances at the closed door. “No, I couldn’t.”
“What’s going on?”
Sawyer’s eyes look huge in the reflective glow of her interface. “You shouldn’t do that fight, Harper,” she says seriously.
I open my mouth to protest, but she waves me off. “I know you’re going to do it anyway because you’re you. Eli may think he can talk you out of it, but I know better. Just hear me out, okay?”
I sigh but listen anyway.
“I’ve seen this girl. You really don’t stand a chance.”
“Not you, too,” I growl. I’m getting sick of people telling me I can’t win.
“I’m not going to try to stop you,” she says. “I know you’re going to fight her, and you’re going to get hurt.”
“Gee, thanks. Anything else you’d like to add?”
Sawyer glances at the door again, completely unfazed by my attitude. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this,” she whispers. “I could get thrown out of Health and Rehab if . . .”
I lean closer. Sawyer is on the verge of breaking the rules. Now at least I’ve lived to see everything.
“Marta was in here earlier tonight. She fought before the main event.” She takes a deep breath, and her next words come out in a rush. “She won, but she . . . she had some pretty nasty damage to her eighth left rib.”
Sawyer points to the correct rib on herself and then grabs my hand and makes me feel where it is. “This one right here. Do you feel it?”
I nod, unsure where she’s going with this.
“She fractured it in the fight tonight. The attending told her she shouldn’t fight for at least six weeks.”
Sawyer looks at me seriously, and I’m struck by the gravity of what she’s suggesting.
“I’m not going to target her rib on purpose, Sawyer. What happens if I crack the thing?”
Sawyer juts out her bottom lip and swallows, trying to show she doesn’t care but not quite managing it. “She won’t be able to finish the fight, that’s for sure.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
I’m a little horrified by what Sawyer is suggesting. She shouldn’t have told me this at all. It’s a breach of doctor-patient confidentiality and all kinds of unethical.
“Do whatever you want,” she says, sounding relieved that she’s been let off the hook and won’t be responsible for putting another girl in the medical ward. “Just be careful, okay?”
I don’t say anything. I just hug Sawyer tightly, marveling at how much things have changed.
I’m not sure if I’m the catalyst for all the crazy shit my friends have been willing to do lately or if it’s just the messed-up stuff going on in the compound. But if I had any doubts that things were going to hell, they’re all gone now.
sixteen
Eli
As soon as Harper leaves, I begin the long, painful journey from the exam room to the front desk.
Angel really did a number on my leg, but asking to have my crutches back is more than my wounded ego can handle tonight. The pain meds haven’t kicked in yet, but I’m determined to make it back to my compartment on my own two feet if it kills me.
I attract a lot of stares wandering through the maze of tunnels. I know my face must look pretty gruesome, but damn these nurses are judgy.
I reach the waiting room and freeze. Three controllers are standing at the front desk, arguing with Sawyer. There’s a preppy-looking blond guy with a pointed face and two older men whose overgrown guts make it clear they’ve been sitting behind a dispatch desk too long. She’s poking one of them in the chest in a stance that’s classic Harper.
I recognize the blond weaselly guy at once. It’s Paxton Dellwood — the entitled piece of shit I met when Control dragged Harper in for questioning.
As I stare, all three controllers snap their gazes onto me.
“There he is,” Dellwood snarls, jutting his chin at Sawyer in a threatening way.
To her credit, she doesn’t flinch, but she throws a worried look in my direction.
“Is there a problem here?” I ask, trying to play off my limp as a cocky stride.
The controller closest to me glances at the other two and then reaches for the cuffs on his belt.
“Eli Parker?”
“Who’s asking?”
“Officer Dench. You’re under arrest for disturbing the peace and assault.”
“What?”
“We, uh, got a tip you were participating in an illegal fight this evening against Angel Lopez.”
“From who?”
Dench moves to restrain me, but I step just out of reach.
“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “Medical records confirm it.”
“This is bullshit.”
Two of the officers are converging now, elbows flared and poised for a struggle. There’s no way I can run with my leg the way it is, and there’d be no point anyway.
Before I can come up with a better plan, Dench steps around me and yanks my arms behind my back.<
br />
“Eli, I’m so sorry,” says Sawyer, cupping her hand over her mouth in horror.
She looks as though she might cry, but I’m too focused on the cold metal cuffs snapping on to my wrists to feel too bad.
“I just entered your injuries into the system. I didn’t know . . .”
“It’s okay,” I say through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to kick the controller behind me.
It’s not Sawyer’s fault anyway. Everybody knows about the illegal fights. Hell, Shane always pays off a few controllers to break up the crowd. This has to be Dellwood’s way of getting back at me for making him look like a pussy the last time I saw him.
All the nurses are staring now.
Dench and Dellwood frog-march me to the megalift, and I can feel the smug satisfaction radiating from Dellwood. They force me inside the lift and slam me against the opposite wall.
My already swollen temple makes contact with the cold metal, and for a split second, I think I might black out. But before the doors even close, a hand snakes around the back of my skull and smashes my head into the wall again.
This time, I have enough sense to tuck my chin, but the pain still rocks through the back of my head.
All I can see is Dellwood’s gleeful smirk out of the corner of my eye.
“Not so cocky now, are ya?” he snarls.
“Go to hell.”
“You’re gonna wish you were in hell when I’m through with you.”
That’s when his fist flies out and smashes into the side of my face. There’s no real power behind his punch, but my face is already a pulpy mess, and I feel it to the bone.
Another controller’s leg shoots out and connects with my shin, and I suck in a burst of air through my teeth.
They’re closing in on me — literally backing me into the corner. This time, Dellwood swings straight at my nose and knocks me back into the wall.
Everything is spinning, but I’m with it enough to notice something hard and solid jabbing me in the side just before an electric shock rolls through my body.
I jerk out of Dellwood’s grip into the opposite corner of the lift, nearly knocking one of the other controllers to the ground. I can’t fight back — not unless I want them piling more charges on me — but I’m not just going to stand there and take it.
