twisting and turning, until we reach it. I’m impressed by their setup. I guess this is what Flo gets for being the victor. It is a large section of the cave, surrounded by stone on three sides so her back is guarded from every direction. She has a nice fire going, and a large chest filled with slop.
Bree walks over to Charlie, and he to her, and I can see that they’re happy to be reunited. They each take a handful of slop and chew.
“ It’s not as bad as it seems,” Charlie says. “You get used to it.”
“ I think it’s awful,” Bree says. “But I’m so hungry, I would eat anything.”
“ I remember once, when the world was good, I had a stack of pancakes,” Charlie says. “Five of them, with butter and maple syrup and whipped cream. Oh my God. It was the best thing I ever had. Can you imagine eating that?”
“ Charlie, stop,” Flo reprimands. “That’s not helpful.”
“ It’s ok,” Bree defends him. “I actually like it. I haven’t thought of pancakes in forever.”
“ Living in fantasy is how you get yourself killed,” Flo snaps.
I think about that. On the one hand she’s right. But on the other hand, what’s so great about reality? Isn’t fantasy all we have left?
We set Logan down beside Flo’s fire, and as we do, she looks at his leg.
“ I have medicine,” she says.
My heart leaps as I look at her.
“ Spoils to the victor. When you win, they give you a box of stuff. Food, mostly. But some meds, too. Basic stuff. They want you in shape for the next round. I’ve got some syringes with stuff in them. I’m guessing it’s for wounds, for healing. Maybe penicillin, or something like it.”
“ Please,” I say. “I would give anything.”
She reaches into her chest and pulls out a fresh, unwrapped syringe and throws it to me. I tear it open, examine the clear liquid. I hope it’s what he needs.
I hurry over to Logan, kneel by his side, look at him. He is sweating.
“ You want me to try?” I ask. “I don’t know what’s in it.”
“ Do it,” he says, weakly. “I have nothing to lose.”
I lean over and insert the needle as gently as I can into his leg and inject the serum. He winces.
“ They gave me some treats, too,” she adds. “Does someone like marshmallows?” she asks, looking at Bree.
Bree looks up at her, eyes open wide.
“ You’re joking,” she says.
“ She’s not,” Charlie says. “She’s really got them. She must really like you. She hasn’t even given one to me. She said she was waiting for a special night.”
“ This is it,” Flo says. “Tomorrow, they begin. This could be our last night.”
“ I don’t understand,” Bree says to Charlie. “If you have food here, why were you in the pit, fighting for slop with the others?”
“ Flo wants me to fend for myself,” he answers. “She says it makes me stronger.”
Flo reaches into her bag, takes out a handful of fat marshmallows, and puts one into each of our open hands. She hands out sticks, and we place them on the sticks and roast them over the fire.
The smell of roasting marshmallows makes me salivate. I pull mine out, nearly black, and chew slowly, savoring each bite. It fills my every pore. I would eat a thousand more if I could.
My thoughts drift to tomorrow, the arena. My stomach drops, as I wonder what’s in store for us.
“ Tell us what it’s like,” I say to Flo, who sits opposite the fire, chewing. “The arena.”
Flo is silent a long time; finally, she shakes her head.
“ Tomorrow, they’ll come for us early,” she says. “Be ready. The first day of fighting, it’s not what it seems. It’s more about survival than fighting. You won’t understand until you see it for yourself. But there are ways to live, and ways to die. I’ll give you some good advice. Don’t go for the bridges. And stay away from the edges. Don’t try to escape. That’s the mistake most people make. They want to escape. Stay calm. Don’t think about fighting, or winning. Think about surviving. Just remember: things are not what they seem.”
I’m grateful for her advice, but as I try to take it all in, I find it confusing and overwhelming. Her advice is too ambiguous; I’m not really sure what she’s talking about.
“ I don’t really understand,” I say.
“ You can’t,” she says. “But once you’re there, you will.”
“ I’m going to escape,” Charlie says, as he sits beside Bree, roasting her marshmallow for her, and chews his. The site makes me think of summer campfires, when we would lie under the stars for hours, when everything was safe.
“ What do you mean, escape?” I ask.
“ I’m going to find a way out of here. The train tunnels. I saw, coming in, where they go. When they first brought me here, I slipped out. I ran for a while before I got caught. I saw where they lead. There’s a back exit. Outside the city. I saw their boats. I know how to get there.”
My heart leaps at the possibility.
“ Stop talking nonsense,” Flo snaps at him harshly.
Charlie’s face falls, and there is a tense silence.
“ I’m just trying to tell them-” Charlie begins.
“ I’ve heard enough of your stories,” Flo said. “It’s ridiculous. You can’t escape here. Even if you made it out, they’d hunt you down and kill you in two seconds. That’s a sure death. Fighting in the arena, at least it gives you a chance. And where would you go anyway? You think there’s some great world out there waiting to be found?”
Charlie looks down to the floor, disappointed; but then he looks back up, eyes filled with hope.
“ You remember what dad said? About that town? In Canada?”
Immediately, I am on high alert, and sit up straighter. Logan and Ben and Bree do, too. I am shocked. Is this town for real? Or is it just a persistent rumor?
“ Charlie,” I say. “What did you just say?”
He turns and looks at me, unsure. “About Canada?”“
“ How do you know about it?” I ask. “Is it true?”
“ No, of course it’s not,” Flo snaps.
“ Yes it is!” Charlie insists.
“ It was just another one of dad’s fantasies,” Flo says.
“ No it wasn’t!” Charlie says. “He knew it. He was there. He wasn’t lying. All we have to do is get up the river. To Canada. We can find it. I know we can. He said it was by the river.”
Charlie seems so certain, and his story does seem to line up with Logan’s. It makes me wonder if maybe that town really does exist.
Flo shakes her head.
“ Like I said,” she says, “you can either live in fantasy or reality. And you can die in either, too.”
I think about that.
“ Well if we’re going to die either way, why not live in fantasy?” I ask her.
She locks eyes with mine, and I can feel the coldness in her eyes, and it goes right into me, like a winter breeze. I force myself to look away, seeing death in those eyes, and knowing that, soon, it’s coming for me, too.
*
I lay awake in the darkness, late into the night, Bree curled up in my arms, Logan beside me, Ben on the other side. Sitting next to Bree is Charlie, and their heads rest on each other’s. A few feet apart is Flo. Everyone is asleep, except for me. And Flo. Her eyes are wide open, staring into the dying flames of the fire. Cold, hard, unflinching. I see that being awake is her natural habit of being. A warrior to her last breath, always on edge.
Me, I want to sleep, but I can’t, because my mind won’t stop racing. I keep trying to think about tomorrow, about what it will be like. If only I could be prepared, it might go better. But Flo doesn’t seem to want to tell me any more and I have to just appreciate what she’s already told me. I turn her words over and over in my mind. Don’t go for the bridges. Stay away from the edges… I don’t know what it all means.
I’m determined to survive. I’m determined for Bree to survive, Ben, Logan. I look over at him, and he seems
