Origin: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Novel (Spectra Book 1)

by Lan Chan

  As we got closer to the factory, the pavement started to slope downwards. This did not bode well at all.

  “Please tell me the arena isn’t underground,” I said. The guarded glances they traded confirmed my dread.

  We weren’t the only ones on the footpath anymore. I hadn’t felt the pull of a hover drone for the last fifteen minutes. Once or twice I’ve seen Row citizens using them for target practice. They were designed with inbuilt heat-seeker technology, but there was only so much a drone could pre-empt before it got taken out. After a while, the Academy probably decided it wasn’t worth the cost to replace them.

  When we reached the entrance to the arena, there were two doors and two lines in front of them. Big green neon signs marked the left door for contestants and the right for spectators. On the way there, I contemplated the other people travelling around us.

  As much as I despised the League, they at least had rules and regulations. There were weight classes and telepathic designation classes. This was a bloody free-for-all.

  The contestants’ line was an ad for the hodgepodge evolution of mankind. Some of them had necks the circumference of my thigh. Others were average build. All of them had hungry looks in their eyes.

  There were also too many kids in the spectators’ line for my liking. Daisy saved our spot at the end of the line while I pulled Naveen aside.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked him. “I know you don’t know me or anything, but come on! This is madness.”

  The smile he gave me was determined if not confident. “We don’t have any other choice.”

  “But –”

  He raised a hand to forestall my protests. “Look around you. Less than a quarter of the people who are here can fight. I know I won’t win, but if I can just last until the third round, I will make enough from betting for the medication my wife needs.”

  “How much?” I asked. “I can get you the money.”

  “What about everybody else? We’re all in the same boat. This is just how the world works for people like us.”

  “Do you at least have a game plan? Fighting experience? Anything?” His gaze flicked to the ground. The next thing he told me made me want to throw a punch.

  “I was worse off than this back home. I can take a hit.”

  “That’s not what I asked! Your daughter’s going to be watching you get your ass kicked. Why are you letting her come tonight anyway?”

  In that moment, although he wasn’t an esper, his thoughts were so concentrated the explanation almost floated out of his mind to me. He didn’t know what kind of shape he would be in when he was knocked out. He needed Daisy to help him get home.

  “How many fights have you watched?”

  He grimaced. Right. He didn’t have the kind of time to watch television. This was utterly ridiculous. If Mum was here, she would have a meltdown. Unplanned chaos of this calibre went against every single one of her rules.

  “Keep your eyes on your opponent at all times,” I said. “Do not let them out of your sight. Their eyes will tell you before they move what they’ll likely do next. Don’t run around the ring wasting energy. One good hit is better than swinging wildly. And if you’re going to try for a hit, drive it using your shoulder and your elbow, not your wrist. If you don’t land it right, you’ll end up hurting yourself more than your opponent.”

  He gave an understanding nod. I sighed. At least he wasn’t one of those people who refused to take me seriously because I was just a teenager.

  We separated. By then Daisy was at the front of the line. I stepped beside her just as Daisy handed over the tickets. The bouncer tore them in two and gave us the stubs. He patted us down too thoroughly for my liking. He didn’t blink an eye that his patron barely came up to his waist.

  If I didn’t already know this was a bad idea, when Daisy took my hand in her sweaty one, it drove everything home. I swallowed, and the crowd led us forward.

  8

  The itching at the base of my skull reached a fever pitch as we walked through the swinging doors leading to the arena. There might have been anti-psi technology on the doors and around the perimeter, but inside, all bets were off.

  About five seconds was all I could take before I reinforced my shields so I could think straight. The warehouse basement was set up stadium-style. At its centre was a hexagonal fighting ring. The base was stained in brown splotches, and the ropes were frayed. Whatever the Shadowman did with his money, it wasn’t financing these fights.

  Daisy led us suspiciously quickly to our seats.

  “You’ve been here before,” I said.

  “Last year.” She pushed the base of her stadium seat down and crawled into it. “He didn’t make it past the second round.’

  “Honestly, aren’t there any other jobs he can do?” When I looked around at the people in these seats, I realised something. They were mostly people of colour. “You’re illegal, aren’t you?”

  The twist of her lips confirmed it. After the Reset, many of the then third world countries came out better off because they weren’t so reliant on technology. But prosperity had a way of bypassing the masses. Despite countries like Vietnam and China being able to rebuild faster, the disparity between rich and poor was still huge. With a coast this big, Australia was a prime target for refugees. The Slums gave them a place to live if not a means to make a living. It depressed me just thinking about it.

  I scanned the arena for any signs of my mother. Right now, the only clue I had was the playing card. Taking a blurry photo of her out of my pocket, I decided to ask around. It wasn’t a particularly flattering photo. I stole it from a book inside Gabe’s dresser. Yes, I am a snoop. In the photo, Mum looked as though she was in the process of turning her face away. She was staunchly against anything she considered to be surveillance.

  “Are you going to be okay here on your own for a bit?” I asked. Leaving Daisy was slightly irresponsible, but my time was limited. A vendor came down the aisle with hotdogs and potato chips. I bought her one of each and a drink.

  “Do not move,” I said.

  It was no use approaching the spectators. They were all either meatheads spoiling for blood to be spilled, or they were like Daisy, anxiously awaiting someone they loved getting their butts handed to them. What I needed was a security guard or someone who had been around here long enough to remember a face. The first security guard didn’t want to give me the time of day.

  He stood like a man-mountain in his black jeans and black polo shirt, guarding the tunnel where the contestants would walk into the stadium. Corded muscles the size of my head bulged from his crossed arms. There was no need for any of the Shadowman’s insignias here. Everybody knew where his territory was, and if they didn’t, they found out soon enough.

  “Step away from the rope,” he barked.

  “I just need you to take a look at this photo,” I said. “Two seconds, that’s all I’m asking.” When he realised that I wasn’t going to budge without force, he finally gave up and glanced quickly at the photo.

  “Never seen her.”

  If I hadn’t read his mind to confirm it was the truth, I wouldn’t have believed him. Canvassing six more security guards, all huge guys with too much testosterone running through them, netted me the same results. Out of sheer desperation, I approached one of the cheerleaders. She was maybe in her late twenties with bleached blonde hair that reached halfway down her back.

  “Hi!” I said. “Can you tell me if you’ve ever seen this woman before?”

  She leaned forward and tipped the photo up towards the stadium lights with her manicured nails. “Sorry, honey. She someone you know?”

  “My mum.”

  “Aww, that’s right. You look like her. You interested in dancing? You’ve got the face for it.”

  “No thanks. Do you know anyone who might have been around for a while? Nine months at least?”

  Her brow creased as she considered the question. “Probably only Jacko. But he doesn’t talk to anyone exc
ept the contestants.”

  “Which one is he?”

  She quirked her lips and pointed up into the ring. A man in a tailored black suit barked orders at the staff. Though he was decked out in the best suit money could buy, there was no mistaking the way the jacket strained over his broad shoulders. To get to him, I’d have to jump over the side of the ring. A second later, I would probably be rushed by security guards. I’d have to find some other way.

  A siren sounded. It would have to wait. The master of ceremonies stepped into the ring. This wasn’t like any shadow boxing match I’d ever seen. The middle-aged man in his black slacks and white shirt roared into his microphone.

  “Get into your seats! The contest is about to begin.” Charming.

  Daisy was still chewing on her hot dog when I returned to my seat. “No good?” I asked.

  “I’m making it last.”

  Bloody hell.

  The lights dimmed. Daisy reached out and gripped my forearm. Her food was suddenly forgotten. In the lower lighting, she was free to be a kid. I resisted the urge to pull her into my lap. After how she reacted last time I tried to comfort her, I thought better of it. Please God, don’t let Naveen get knocked out too quickly.

  There were thirty-four contestants altogether. Each pair would pick a number and face off against the next in line. Whoever lost was out. The winner moved up the next level and numbers would be drawn again until only two were left standing. The longer I was here, the bigger the disparities between this fight and a League-sanctioned one were.

  Weapons weren’t allowed but there was no pat down. No protective gear was worn. For the life of me, I couldn’t see a doctor anywhere. Unless one of the security guards moonlighted.

  “First contestants,” the emcee said. “You’re up.”

  Half the crowd cheered whilst the other half sat mute and frightened. You could tell who the relatives of the two men fighting were because they clutched at each other. Some even cried. My eyes followed Jacko wherever he went. Right now, he stood next to the ring, attention focused on the two men who circled around each other.

  Each contestant was meant to come up with a stage name. Most of them didn’t appear to bother. Probably because they weren’t here to forge a career as a fighter, they only wanted the opportunity to make as much money as possible.

  When the bell sounded, they both rushed. It was a hopeless fight. If this was the Shadow Boxing League, they would have been booed off the stage. The barrel-chested man on my right managed to shove his slighter opponent to the ground. He then started kicking the living daylights out of the other guy. The victim’s family roared, but the referee did nothing until the poor man was unconscious.

  Daisy’s hand was cutting off my circulation. “This is crazy,” I whispered. How was this any different from all those people ignoring Daisy while she was being suffocated?

  The more matches I watched, the angrier I got. The referee called the contestants for the seventh match. Naveen walked onto the stage with a man twice his size. Every bit of anger seeped out of me. It was replaced by a hard stone in my stomach. Unable to contain herself, Daisy started chewing on the end of her braid.

  If Naveen was scared, he didn’t show it. I’d give him credit for that. If I wasn’t worried about distracting him and giving him a headache, I would have reached out and reminded him of what I’d told him earlier. It wasn’t impossible to take down a bigger opponent, but you had to fight smart. Praying that he would heed my advice, I held my breath as the bell rang for the start of the match.

  The big guy was a bull. But it became apparent as he jumped around the stage that he was inexperienced too. The only advantage he had was his weight. He threw it around like it was going out of style. Naveen walked calmly around the ring. His opponent jumped from side to side, feigning attacks while he was out of range to get a hit and generally tiring himself out.

  I was on the edge of my seat, waiting for the inevitable to happen. The crowd became restless as the two continued to dance around each other. Every time his opponent got frustrated and charged, Naveen evaded him and backed away.

  The Big Guy was getting tired. I saw it the moment Naveen noticed too and made his move. It would have worked if he hadn’t announced his intention by roaring like a tiger. In hindsight, I probably should have warned him against that. Still, the other guy wasn’t as ready for it as he’d hoped. Naveen clipped him on his chin. The Big Guy’s head spun backwards. He staggered. His legs kicked out. Naveen tried to jump away but he wasn’t fast enough and both of them went down in a flurry of limbs. By some miracle, Naveen managed to wrap his arms and legs around the Big Guy’s neck and torso. This was it. It was just a waiting game now until the Big Guy passed out.

  Mum always said pride comes before the fall. The angle of the lighting on our side of the stadium caught the glint of sharpened metal. Someone right at the front of the stadium screamed, “Knife!”

  Rather than stop the fight, this seemed to spur the crowd on. Daisy jumped to her feet when I did. Caught in the fervour of the fight, the contestants didn’t hear the crowd chanting or jeering. Naveen continued to chokehold his opponent. The Big Guy stabbed at the same time I pushed with my EK. In my heightened state of aggression, I put too much telepathy into the command. The EK caught him and dragged the knife across the ring. Naveen had the good sense to let go. The Big Guy was holding on to the knife so tightly its momentum pulled him forward and out of Naveen’s reach.

  Without meaning to, I’d just done the Big Guy a favour. Out of the chokehold but still within close proximity, the Big Guy caught Naveen by the ankle. He dragged Naveen until the skinny man lay flat on his back. Then he body-slammed him. At the last minute, he struck out with his elbow knocking Naveen out cold.

  The crowd went wild. Before I knew what was happening, I was up against the edge of the ring. A hand came down on my shoulder and yanked me backward. I kept pushing forward until a chest got in my way.

  Half my size, Daisy managed to squeeze easily through the gaps between the guards. She was on the stage while I was still arguing with the brick wall of a man in front of me.

  “Get out of the way,” I said.

  “Go back to your seat or you’re out of here.”

  I wasn’t sure what was happening until two men standing on either side of Jacko began moving to the stage. Their job was to remove the body of the contestant that had gone down. Over the brute’s shoulder, I saw Daisy shaking her dad, trying to wake him.

  “Hey!” I shouted at the men. “That’s not fair! The other guy had a weapon!” The brute glared at me. There might still be a chance to salvage the situation. Not that Naveen would be in any condition to continue fighting. The brute in front of me pushed me back.

  “Touch me again and we’re going to have a problem,” I said. Something inside of my mind sounded a warning alarm. It told me that this wasn’t worth it. I should just sit back down and shut up rather than draw additional attention to myself. But then Daisy turned her head, searching for me in the crowd. She had tears streaming down her face. I dreaded to think what it might have been like last year when she was here all alone. The thought of her having to drag her dad’s body home made up my mind.

  The brute didn’t pay any attention to my warning. They never do. It was the way I looked. Even with the evolution of espers, humans still couldn’t get past judging a book by its cover. Both his hands came down on my shoulders. He put his weight into the shove. It was a light push that was meant to intimidate rather than hurt. Calling his bluff, I put everything I had behind the shoulder that I drew back.

  Even I was surprised when my fist connected with his jaw. He went down faster than a building demolition. That was it. The other bodyguards swarmed towards me. The crowd went nuts over this unexpected fight they hadn’t paid for.

  Before any of them could reach me, I grabbed hold of the rope on the side of the ring and dragged myself up and inside. The other contestant stood in my way. Either he was going to keep me from g
etting to Daisy, or he was going to throw me back out. Before he could make good on his threat, Jacko was there. His mere presence stilled the crowd.

  “You don’t want to be doing that, girl,” he said to me.

  “What kind of a competition is this?” I spat, pointing to the Big Guy. “You didn’t even bother patting him down. He had a knife on him. Don’t the contest rules state that it’s bare-knuckle fighting only?”

  “You’re in the Row now,” Jacko said. He had me there. Things worked differently here. Rules weren’t rules so much as rough guidelines.

  “Why bother with the game then? Why not just throw everyone in together and let them all have at each other? Is this what the Shadowman calls honour? I hear all kinds of things about how he values honesty above all else. Is that a lie too?”

  My indignation elicited no response. But the mention of the Shadowman seemed to cause a hush to run through the arena. Jacko removed his sunglasses. He was one of those people who wore them indoors. Without them, his eyes seemed almost too small for his face.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  I pointed to where Naveen was lying down. He stirred as I did so, coming back to consciousness. “I’m their friend.”

  “Well, friend,” he said. “Let’s see how far you’re willing to go to protect them.” He slipped the sunglasses back on. When he turned his head to address the crowd, I saw he had an earpiece on.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Jacko said. He wasn’t wearing a microphone, but in the silence, his voice could be heard loud and clear. “It seems we have a dilemma. On the one hand, we have a contestant who used a weapon. On the other, we have one who was knocked out. Now, we all saw the interference. It means we have an esper in our midst.” His head turned in my direction. I gritted my teeth. Dammit.

  “So, here’s the deal. Either I disqualify them both, or they fight again. You decide.”

  Keen to get their money’s worth, and to eliminate one or both contestants with an additional fight, the crowd started to chant, “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!”