A reporter rushed up when she entered the lobby. Lara recognized Jessie Stark from CNC Broadcasting, who’d interviewed her before the orientation. Jessie signaled to her cameraman to roll.
“We’re live with Lara Evans of Oregon, who’s about to enter the Battle arena for a round of combat with Sam Duggar of Texas. Lara, you’re five-five and 126 pounds. Sam is six-two and 205 pounds. Do you believe that was a random assignment?”
“Of course,” Lara lied. “There are only eleven other competitors left, and any of them would be tough to beat.” She felt strongly the tournament matchups were calculated, despite claims they were software generated. Both the director and the commissioner wanted her to go away.
“The internet is buzzing with the rumor that the director set you up to be eliminated, and our recent poll says the viewers are pissed off and rooting for you.”
The news pleased Lara, but voters couldn’t help or hurt her inside the Battle circle. It was pure competition with the loser of each round going home. But viewers could add significantly to her points if she won each round. “I hope to win and earn their support.”
“Do you have a strategy?”
“Stay low and wear him down.” Lara grinned. “What else can I say? I’m fighting for jobs for my state, and a lot of good people are counting on me. I’m not going down without giving Sam Duggar the battle of his life.”
“Good luck in there.”
Lara strode through the lobby, passing the wide entrance of the arena where hundreds of spectators filled the grandstands. The sight of all those faces looking down made her feel small and vulnerable. She sucked in oxygen in rapid breaths and focused on the match. She would fight as though her life depended on it. In some ways it did. This was her chance to made amends, to earn some peace of mind and maybe forgive herself.
Minda and her co-host were waiting in the small locker room. Lara stashed her shoulder bag in a locker, then endured another round of viewer-hype chat. She tried to keep her answers fresh and snappy for the audience, but she was tired of the camera in her face. She just wanted to compete.
At ten minutes before noon, they walked into the Battle arena. The crowd roared, filling her veins with adrenaline. Thank god they were supportive. She would need every advantage.
“Wait on this bench until you’re called, then walk out onto the platform.” Minda gave her instructions, then trotted off with her entourage. The group walked around the twenty-foot circular platform, keeping off the thick surrounding mat. The director headed for the adjacent locker room to speak with Sam Duggar.
Lara took a seat on the small bench and closed her eyes. To calm her nerves and empty her mind, she hummed a deep repetitive chant from her long-ago yoga days.
The crowd started clapping. She opened her eyes and watched Sam enter the arena. The cheer for her opponent faded quickly. Lara bounced on her toes, waiting to be called.
“Bring on the weapons!”
Two young men in black gear rushed out of the judges’ box, carrying jousting poles. One came toward her and placed the weapon in her hands. “Good luck.” His tone was solemn but he winked as he turned away.
The four-foot joust was made of gray pliable PVC, the ends padded with three inches of dense foam. On one end, the padding was long and narrow, shaped for jabbing. On the other, it was a small dense ball meant for an overhand strike. The joust wouldn’t have been her first choice, because it gave Sam too much reach, but it wasn’t a worst-case scenario either.
“Contestants, enter the Battle circle,” a male voice boomed.
A surge of hyper energy filled her body, starting in her legs and gushing into her torso. She jogged across the thick gray mat and entered the red battle ring. Sam strode toward her from the other side. Her opponent was built like Adonis-chiseled muscles, chiseled face. Lara had seen him in the lobby, but they hadn’t spoken. His size should have been intimidating but she felt pumped and more ready than she’d ever been. She’d sparred with bigger men and beaten them. That’s how she ended up representing Oregon. She could do this.
The announcer was still speaking but Lara tuned him out. As the battle circle under her feet rose in the air, she focused on her opponent, memorizing the height of his targets: kidney, mid-sternum, and the carotid and vagus nerves in his neck. Lara had little hope of knocking him off the raised platform, so her strategy was to hit the spots that would cause pain, irregular heartbeat, or loss of blood to the brain. Slowing him down would buy her time and keep her on the platform. Speed and the ability to leap from a standstill were her only advantages. If she survived the seven-minute round and stayed on the platform, the judges would call the match. They were often swayed by the mood of the crowd.
“Let the battle begin!”
An electronic gong sounded and Sam rushed at her like an enraged bull, the jabbing end of his joust aimed at her head. Lara dropped to her knees just before his weapon came within striking distance. As she went down, she swung her joust like a bat, striking his left kneecap and rolling to get out of the way of his thundering body. Lara was surprised by his opening tactic. He either expected her to be easily overpowered or he had little training in martial arts.
She sprang to her feet and pivoted toward the center of the circle. Sam recovered from his miss, spun around and charged her again, his joust lower this time, aiming at her chest. Lara waited until the last second and jumped left. She twisted in the air and jabbed her weapon into his kidney. He moaned softly, a sound no one heard but her.
In the background, the commentator’s voice and the shouting of the audience blended into a muffled roar, like a train in the distance.
Switching tactics, Sam came at her more slowly, joust lengthwise across his chest. Knowing she would take a hit, Lara leapt and aimed for his carotid artery with the jabbing end of her weapon. She nailed him a split second before he broadsided her with his pole. Lara went down, chest aching from the blow and loss of air. She scrambled to the right, hoping to stay out of his reach.
The strike to his neck stunned him momentarily, but he was soon coming for her again. Lara scrambled to her feet but couldn’t get out of the way of his next blow. His joust hit her in the chest again, knocking her on her ass only a few feet from the edge of the platform. Lara tried to roll out of harm’s way, but he caught her with the jabbing end and pushed her to within inches of the edge.
She couldn’t scramble away without going over. Panicked and infuriated with herself, she swung her weapon at his, hoping to knock it from his hands. When her joust hit Sam’s, a shock of electricity zapped them both.
She spun and leapt again, ramming the round end of her weapon just under his jaw where the carotid sinus met the vagus nerves. The crowd roared in surprise and approval, and Lara sensed movement, as though spectators had sprung to their feet. She kept her eyes on her opponent. Sam’s arms dropped below his waist as blood drained from his brain and his heart rate slowed. He staggered forward, eyes glazed over in shock. The audience made gasping noises, then went silent. Lara willed the big man to faint or drop to his knees. If she had hit him with her fist instead of the padded joust, he’d be on the ground by now. Lara sucked in oxygen and waited.
She considered going in for another blow but it didn’t seem sporting, and the crowd might hold it against her. All she needed was to still be standing when the gong sounded again.
Sam shook his head and gulped in air. Lara circled him to keep him off balance. After a moment, he charged at her, but with little speed, like a man who’d had too much to drink. She outmaneuvered his jabs and came in behind him. With a powerful thrust, Lara rammed her joust into the back of his left knee. He buckled and dropped forward just as the gong sounded.
Relief washed over her. She was still standing, and the big man was on the mat. Would the judges give her the match even though she’d been dominated for a moment and pushed to the edge? Audience members high in the bleachers began to shout her name. Lara turned and saw a group of young men standing. Joy flooded her like an intake of helium and she felt like she was floating. She smiled at the group of fans and gave a small wave. More spectators joined the chant.
After a minute, the announcer’s voice cut through the noise of the crowd. “That was a hell of an opening
