Arena One: Slaverunners

I am led down the ramp, towards the ring, and as I reach it, I can feel the thousands of eyes fixate on me. There are jeers and boos. Apparently, they don’t like newcomers. Or maybe they just don’t like me.

I am marched ringside and prodded to a small metal ladder on one side of the cage. I look up at Sumo, who scowls down at me from inside the ring. I look over at the dead body, still impaled on the cage. I hesitate: I’m not eager to enter this ring.

I am prodded roughly by a gunpoint in the small of my back, and I have no choice but to take my first step on the ladder. Then another, and another. The crowd cheers, and I feel weak in the knees.

A slaverunner opens the cage door, and I take my first step in. He slams it behind me, and I can’t help but flinch. The crowd cheers again.

I turn and survey the stadium, looking for any sign of Bree, of Ben, of his brother-of any friendly face. But there are none. I force myself to look across the ring, at my opponent. Sumo stands there, looking down at me. He smiles, then erupts into laughter at the sight of me. I’m sure he thinks I will be an easy kill. I don’t blame him.

Sumo turns his back on me and raises his arms out wide, facing the crowd, craving adulation. Clearly, he is not troubled by me, and thinks this match is already over. He is already reveling in his victory to come.

Dad’s voice suddenly fills my head:

Always be the one to start a fight. Never hesitate. Surprise is your best weapon. A fight starts when YOU start it. If you wait for your opponent to start it, you’ve already lost. The first three seconds of a fight always determine its outcome. Go. GO!

Dad’s voice screams in my head, and I let it take over me. I don’t stop to think how crazy this is, how outmatched I am. All I know is that, if I do nothing, I will die.

I let Dad’s voice carry me away, and it is as if my body is being controlled by someone else. I find myself charging across the ring, focusing on Sumo. His back is still to me, his arms are still out, he is still enjoying the spectacle. And now, at least for this moment, he is exposed.

I race across the ring, every second feeling like an eternity. I focus on the fact that I am still wearing these combat boots, with their steel-tipped toes. I take three huge steps, and before Sumo can react, I leap into the air. I fly through the air, letting my momentum carry me, and aim carefully, right for the back of his left knee.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall, I hear Dad say.

I pray he’s right.

I wind up, knowing I only have one shot at this.

I kick him in the back of his knee with all that I have. I feel the impact of my steel-tipped toe in his soft flesh, and I pray that it works.

To my amazement, his knee buckles out from under him, and he lands on one knee on the floor of the ring, his weight shaking it.

The crowd suddenly roars in delight and surprise, clearly not expecting this.

The biggest mistake you can make in a fight is to hit someone and walk away. You don’t win a fight with a single punch, or a single kick You win it with combinations. After you kick him, kick him again. And again. And again. Don’t stop until he can’t get up.

Sumo begins to turn towards me, and I can see the shock on his face. I don’t wait.

I swing around and plant a roundhouse kick perfectly on the back of his neck. He goes down, face first, hitting the floor hard, shaking it with his weight. The crowd roars.

Again, I don’t wait. I jump up high and do a dropkick, digging the heel of my boot, right into the small of his back. Then, without pausing, I wind up and kick him hard in the side of the face my steel tip, aiming for his temple. The soft spot. I kick it again and again and again. Soon, he’s covered in blood, and he’s reaching up to protect his head.

The crowd goes insane. They jump to their feet, screaming.

“KILL HIM!” they scream. “FINISH HIM!”

But I hesitate. The sight of him lying there, limp like that, makes me feel bad. I know that I shouldn’t, that he’s a merciless killer, but still, I can’t quite bring myself to finish him off.

And that is my big mistake.

Sumo takes advantage of my hesitation. Before I know it, he reaches out and grabs my ankle. His hand is huge, impossibly huge, wrapping around my leg as if it were a twig. With one easy motion, he pulls me by the leg, spins me, and sends me flying across the ring.

I slam into the metal cage, missing one of the sharp spikes by an inch, and fall to the floor.

The crowd cheers. I look up, stunned, my head spinning. Sumo is already getting to his feet and charging. Blood trickles down his face. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe he’s even vulnerable. And now, he must be really pissed.

I’m shocked by how fast he is. In the flash of an eye he’s almost on top of me, leaping into the air, preparing to land on top of me. If I don’t get out of the way fast, I’ll be crushed.

At the last second I roll and just barely manage to evade him as he lands hard beside me, shaking the floor so hard that it actually bounces and sends me up into the air.

I roll away, and keep rolling until I’m on the far side of the ring. I hurry to my feet, and he gets up, too. We stand there on opposite sides of the ring, facing each other, each breathing hard. The crowd is going crazy. I can’t believe I’ve managed to live this long.

He’s gearing up to charge, and I realize I’m out of options. There aren’t many places to go in this ring, especially with a man this size. One wrong move, and I’m finished. I got lucky with the element of surprise. But now I actually have to fight.

Suddenly, something falls through the air. I look up and see that something is being dropped down through the open roof of the cage. It lands with a crash on the floor between us. It is a weapon. A huge battle axe. I never expected this. I guess this is their way of keeping the games even, prolonging their entertainment. The axe lands in the center, equidistant between us, about ten feet away.

I don’t hesitate. I race for it, and am relieved to see I am faster than he is: I get there and grab it first.

But he is quicker than I’d imagined, and just as I bend over and pick it up, I feel his huge hands around my rib cage, and he is picking me up, hoisting me from behind in a huge bear hug. He hoists me higher, effortlessly, as if I were an insect. The crowd roars.

He squeezes harder and harder, and I feel all the air crushed out of me, feel as if each one of my ribs is going to crack. I manage to hold onto the axe-but that does little good. I can’t even maneuver my shoulders.

He spins me before the crowd, having fun with me. The crowd reacts, screaming in delight. If I can just get my arms free, I can use the axe.

But I can’t. I feel all the air leaving my body, and realize that in another moment or two, I’ll be suffocated.

Finally, I realize, my luck has run out.

SEVENTEEN

Sumo doesn’t seem to want to kill me yet. Instead, it seems as if he’s enjoying our fight-and that he wants to toy with me.

So instead of crushing me to death, he spins me around fast, several times, then throws me. The axe goes flying from my hands and the world goes rushing by as I fly through the air. I smash, head first, into the metal wall of the cage.

I bounce off it, and land hard on the ground. The crowd roars. Again I manage to miss one of the cage’s protruding spikes, but barely. I look up and see the body of his last victim, still impaled on the cage wall, and realize I am lucky. The axe hits the ground with a clang several feet away from me.

My head is ringing, and I’m disoriented as I lay there, face first on the ground. Out of the corner my eye, I see him charging. But I’m too beat to move.

Move, soldier! MOVE!

Somehow, I force myself into motion. I scramble to my knees, crawl over to the axe as fast as I can, grab it with both hands, and spin around with it.