by Nik Davies
Chapter 13
Law 22
An Eye for an Eye
The sharpened nails on Gideon’s club grazed Akeem’s arm, drawing blood. He snapped out of his daze in just enough time to avoid a more serious blow. No sooner did he move did Gideon swing again. He whirled on his toes, and the morning star sailed past his face so close he felt a breeze tickle the tip of his nose. Akeem’s senses kicked in, and his body moved with the grace of a dancer. He avoided every swing and lunge without ever raising the cutlass in defense. He was fast and agile, and his body reacted on instinct alone. He bobbed circles around Gideon to the delight of the growing crowd. They cheered him on frantically. Boys continued to flood into the camp as news of the fight spread to every corner of the Dog House.
Gideon swung his club again; Akeem dove, tucked, and rolled across the mud coming to his feet, dripping muck down his back and legs. He shook his dreadlocks and splattered the crowd. They howled in maniacal approval.
“Back up, you swines!” MacNab hollered, and the boys reluctantly and with much difficulty, backed up, widening the circle.
Akeem looked around stunned. The mob was massive and every eye was watching him make a fool of Gideon. He doubted anyone had ever lasted as long in a brawl against him, and he could see the anger blazing in Gideon’s eyes at the thought of being defeated. Gideon roared before charging again. Akeem pushed against the crowd, but they pushed back. Gideon ran at him. Weapon held high in the air, he swung with massive force. Akeem turned at the last moment and spun out of the way, unscathed. As Gideon sailed past, Akeem stuck out his foot and pushed against the boy’s back. He sent his silent thanks out to Quinn—who had showed him this very move—as Gideon tripped and stumbled toward the crowd. Boys scrambled and pushed to get out of his way. Momentum sent Gideon crashing headlong into the roaring mob. Boys toppled over like bowling pins or dove out of the way as though chased by a grenade. Gideon landed on his hands and knees in a mound of muck. He had to struggle to remove himself from the clinging mud. His weapon was lost, buried in the steaming sludge. He climbed to his feet and faced Akeem.
Akeem tossed his cutlass aside with relief and smiled. With the weapons out of the equation, he could finally have some fun. He charged, plowing into Gideon’s stomach. He wrapped his arms around the boy and hoisted him to one shoulder. Gideon kicked and howled, making the crowd erupt into raucous cheers. Akeem turned in circles, spinning until Gideon was nauseous and dizzy. Then without warning, Akeem flipped the boy over and body slammed him into the mud. Gideon sunk like a stone. The mud clung to him, refusing to let go. He kicked and flailed, doing an uncanny impression of a turtle stuck on its back. The crowd exploded with laughter. Akeem was laughing too until a mud ball to the face silenced him. It covered his eyes and splattered into his open mouth. He coughed, spit, and gouged the mud from his eyes. The crowd gasped in unison.
“Gross!” Akeem shouted as he glared angrily at Gideon. Every boy stood frozen as Akeem looked down at the cutlass that had materialized at his feet. Gideon had stopped laughing and was now struggling to remove himself from the mud with renewed intensity. A look of fear flashed briefly across his face. Akeem reached for the cutlass, and the boys in the crowd held their breaths. He hefted it in his hands as he slopped toward Gideon. Gideon renewed his efforts to free himself from the mud and began demanding help from the boys around him. They pointed and laughed down at him instead. Akeem stood over the boy, gripped the sword with two hands, and held it high over his head. He howled into the sky, playing up to the crowd of excited boys. They roared in response and called for blood. Akeem spun the sword and slammed it nearly to the hilt into the mud near Gideon’s ear.
The crowd groaned and hissed with disappointment until Akeem grabbed two huge handfuls of mud, slapped them roughly to Gideon’s face, and rubbed them in for good measure.
There was a long moment of silence before the crowd burst into chaos. Globs of mud were seized by dozens of hands. In mere moments, the camp had transformed into a field of battle. A colossal mud ball war erupted with as much savagery as one would expect from World War III. The air was so full of flying mud that the sky turned a dingy brown.
When Akeem finally pulled Gideon out of the mud, all that could be seen of the boy were the whites of his eyes. Back to back, they became a formidable team. They splattered every boy and object in their sites. They were planning an attack on a group of boys that were still relatively clean when Akeem felt as if he were being watched. He scanned the camp, the filthy boys, and finally, the tree line. Perched high up in the branches of a large tree was a boy. He stood barefoot on the edge of a swinging branch with his hands tucked uncaringly into his pockets. He was tall and thin and his clothing was a mishmash of stark colors. Although he appeared no older than the other boys, his hair was so streaked with gray that it closely matched the cool gray sky. His dusky skin stood out against the silver curls that framed his face. A wide-brimmed hat sat crookedly on his head and obscured his eyes. He looked toward Akeem appraisingly.
“Who’s that?” Akeem asked Gideon, who was busy building his mud ball arsenal.
“Eh?” Gideon asked and looked off into the direction Akeem pointed. Gideon stopped what he was doing and stood up. Without warning, he howled in perfect imitation of a dog. The howl was so authentic that it raised the hair on Akeem’s arms. Gideon continued to howl and yip loud and fierce until every boy in the camp became quiet and still.
“There!” Gideon pointed, and all eyes turned to the gray-haired boy. The crowd erupted into manic sheers and seemed to go on forever until the boy whistled sharply. He whistled three long melodic notes and quiet fell like an anvil. Silence stretched across the camp until all that could be heard was the shallow breathing of an acre of boys. They stood stock-still, with eyes wide and pupils dilated. Every head angled skyward, every eye looked on earnestly as the gray-haired boy tilted his hat back. Sharp blue eyes gazed back at them. They glimmered with something akin to pride as he scanned the field of boys.
Akeem knew that the gray-haired boy was someone of great importance. The knowledge that a single soul could make the heathen boys of Fifteen silent without saying a word awed him. Time slowed and then seemed to stop altogether. The gray-haired boy studied each of them in turn. It was as if he were conducting dozens of private conversations without saying a single word. Some boys nodded, some smiled, and some reached their hands out toward him. The air was palpable, it crackled with energy. The silence stretched on and on, unspoken words building a tension like nothing Akeem had ever felt. Finally the boy looked at Akeem and his blue eyes twinkled. He tipped his hat, and Akeem nodded back. Then the boy threw his head back and howled at the sky. The sound echoed across the camp. Soon more howls joined the chorus until the camp was an orchestra of howls, barks, and yips. The gray-haired boy grinned broadly then disappeared so suddenly that Akeem blinked in surprise. Slowly the howls ceased and the boys went back to fighting their mud war, but Akeem stood and stared into the trees until Gideon clapped him on the back.
“That, my lad, was Thaniel. It seems like you’ve passed our little test and have been officially welcomed to the Dog ’ouse,” Gideon said with a smile. It was a test, it was all a test! Akeem’s heart swelled with relief and an unfamiliar delight. He had never been welcomed anywhere. In fact, he usually felt like a stranger in his own life, but as he looked around the camp at the uninhibited boys of Fifteen, he felt like he could belong here; if not for all the maiming and killing. The stupid Laws of Fifteen flashed across his mind, causing his brows to knit. Those rules dug into his heart like a thorn in his side. Fifteen could be his home, but things would definitely have to change. For now he let that unfamiliar yet welcome feeling win over his heart, and for the first time in his life, he felt like a part of a family, but there was one question that bothered him.
“Would you have killed me if I failed the test?” Akeem asked.
“Course not. You would have suffered a fate worse than death. You would have been
given the job of filling the craps with dirt for all eternity.
“The craps?” Akeem wondered.
“Exactly what it sounds like, bruv.” Gideon giggled when Akeem grimaced in disgust. “You’re strong, fast, witty, and you’re one of us now. The cube sent us a fine one.” Gideon glanced around suspiciously before continuing. “If you breathe a word of this little rap, I’ll waste you, but...” Gideon looked around a final time before continuing. “Glad you came, mate,” he said, and pounded Akeem roughly on the back.
“Me too,” Akeem said, smiling broadly, and for that moment, he was.
