The Games: Part V

"Devin!"

I freeze at the sound of my name.

Hesitantly, I lean back toward the pit and peer inside.

Street Kid is still trapped beneath Buff Guy. He's reaching up, reaching out to me.

He's known this whole time who I am and he didn't kill me.

"Devin!" His eyes plead. I know he won't make it much longer with the snake venom in him, but I wrap my sweaty hand around his and pull.

He barely budges. I use both hands and put my back into it. My screams of exertion mixing with theirs of pain.

With one last ditch effort I pull as hard as my weak body will allow and collapse back into the grass, with his hand tightly in mine.

Relief floods me and I let out a small laugh before looking down at him.

But there is no him. There is only his hand and a torn forearm.

Paralyzed, I stare down at the severed arm in my hand. My mouth gaps open in a scream, but no sound comes out.

From behind me, Razor Tooth laughs. I drop the arm before turning to her. She's doubled over with laughter and wiping tears from her eyes, smearing the blood on her face even more.

I'm not sure what she could possibly find humorous. We almost died. She just severed a man's spine with a spiked baseball bat. At least her weapon was gone so now we're both weaponless and I don't have to worry about being the next victim of a spiky death.

As she composes herself, I get up and try putting weight on my burned foot. Sharp searing pain shoots up my leg. There is a blister brewing. I should take off my melted shoe and sock so they don't adhere more to my skin than they already have, but that isn't an option until this is over.

The sun is warm on my exposed arms and face. It feels good, but it's not safe to be outside in The Wastes, at least not for long. The depleted ozone layers leave you vulnerable to the harmful UV rays. I once saw a man burn to death with blisters the size of my hands.

Looking to the right, where the grass begins to die and turn brown before it completely vanishes and there is only sand is home. Just beyond the electrified fence, The Wastes stand out like a ghost town with dark dilapidated brick buildings and mud shacks. I can already see the heat waves on the sands.

The electrified fence.

We're on the wrong side.

Out in the grassy field, far off is a lone tree on a hill that marks the beginning of The White City, their wall just on the other side. Meaning Razor Tooth and I are currently standing in the middle of No Man's Land. A place where no one is allowed unless you have a pass from The White City, usually visiting missionaries with freshly grown fruits and vegetables like it means something.

Not far from us is a sign pointing toward the tree. I start on my hike. Each step is like stepping on hot coals. I bite down on my tongue so hard I taste blood. After everything that I've been through in the last couple hours--almost drowning, dodging killer snakes, nearly being crushed to death--there is no way I'm just going to walk away from the money. I need it to save Luca. Turning back is not an option.

"Where're you going?" Razor Tooth calls.

I ignore her.

"Deeevvvviinnnn!" She yells in a sing-songy voice as her loud steps follow. "Dev--!" She chokes as a loud click echoes in the ground.

Only a yard or so away, she's frozen on the spot, white faced and staring down.

Just beneath her foot is a land mine.

We lock eyes, mine begging her not to move and hers saying she's about to make a run for it.

Two hobbling steps before she jumps off the land mine. The ground rumbles and the force of the blast sends us through the air, the heat singeing hairs on the back of my neck.

My head hits the ground and everything goes black.

-

There's a high pitched buzzing. Then a bright light. I blink it away, to see the blazing white of the sun tinted by smoke and brown snow. Dizzy, I bring myself to a sitting position. There's a huge hole in the ground not too far away. I'm missing a shoe, my skin dirty and bloody.

It's not snow. It's dirt. From the explosion.

I pull myself to shaky feet, ears still ringing and watch a large clump of grass fall down before the ground erupts with a spray of dirt and grass. I stumble back, falling to my knees before trying to move.

Razor Tooth's bubble gum pink hair bobs through the grass in front of me as she too tries to get to her feet before her body's thrown up into the air as the ground vomits again and she goes flying out into the field as if she's weightless.

My hands are covered in blood and dirt and some kind of jelly. No that's Zen Master's brains. I double over and dry heave into the grass.

My bare foot sinks into the soft earth as I drag my other leg behind me. It's too heavy to pick up. When I look down, a white bone sticks out of my thigh, blood quickly soaking into my pants. I dip my fingers into the gooey fabric, rub my slimy fingers together. I know it should be warm, that it should hurt, but I can't feel anything. Nothing but the ringing in my ears. I'm not even sure if I'm moving in the right direction.

I'm walking up hill, for what could have been days, as the ground rumbles around me and vegetation rains down. Giant red welts appear and grow on my arms. I run a dry tongue over lips that feel like sandpaper.

The shade of the tree consumes me and I collapse beneath it's protection. My cheek presses against the cool grass.

Then another shadow moves and I look up to see Razor Tooth. Her skin is black and blistered. Most of her hair is gone, what little remains smolders. She's missing an arm. Tissue tangling from the stump, dribbling blood into the grass.

I groan and roll onto my good side, my entire body screaming with protest. The ringing is fading and the feeling in my limbs returns and it's like my entire body is on fire. Using the tree, I drag myself up to standing. At the base of the hill is a small building just outside the wall that protects The White City.

Three steps in and I'm falling then sliding. I scream as the bone sticking out of my leg presses into the ground. I hear a crack and there's a sharp stabbing pain added to the burning that's already there.

Breathlessly, I finally come to a stop at the base of the hill, only a couple of feet from the door.

Razor Tooth is still up the hill, wavering in the sunlight with fatigue.

Using my arms, I army crawl to the door. I rest my back against the accompanying wall and reach up for the handle. It's locked and I growl in frustration.

Above the handle is a keypad with letters instead of numbers.

I pat down my body and realize for the first time that I've lost the black notebook with the codes in it. Now that I think of it, I'm not sure if it left the pit.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to visualize the words on the page.

Echo. India. November. Romeo. Whiskey.

There are nine letter options on the key pad: E. B. W. A. I. N. C. R. O.

Carefully, I type in E - I - N - R - W - but the key pad needs a six digit code. I hit the W again and the keypad makes an angry beeping.

Think, Devin. Think. E - I - N - R - W - ? It has to make a word right?

WEINER

REWINE

WINNER

Winner.

Too excited to keep my fingers steady, I have to put in the code three times before I get it right.

W - I - N - N - E - R

The door chimes and unlocks and I pull on the handle, the door swinging open just a crack to reveal a well lit room.

From behind me a gunshot echoes.

Half of Razor Tooth's face is gone before her body crumples to the ground.

A tall man in a bright blue dress suit stands atop the hill with a gun in his outstretched arm. He lowers the still smoking weapon, straightens his jacket and slowly makes his way toward me.

I try to scramble to the safety of the room, but can't bring myself to get up. Every time I try to move, my body protests with a wave of agony.

The man is only a few feet away now and I'm sure he's going to shoot me like Razor Tooth, but instead he bends down and helps me up to my feet before pushing the door open the rest of the way and leads me inside.

Silently he leads me to a table with a beige envelope and a black briefcase. He lowers me to a chair and goes around the table.

He's clean. Overall near immaculate. Clean cut hair. Clean and smooth shaven face. Even his suit is free of wrinkles and still clings to the scent of fresh laundry. His smile has no gaps and is the whitest thing I've ever seen. He places his hands on the table and there is no grime clinging to the creases or black dirt under his fingernails.

"Congratulations!" His smile widens. "I am Thaddeus White, founder and proprietor of The Games. It is tradition for me to present the winner with their prize money. But seeing as you are the first contestant to ever win The Games without killing a fellow contestant, I've decided to give you an option." He leans forward and opens the buckles on the briefcase to expose a nice row of bills.

The $20,000.

I did it. Luca will never believe me. He might kill me for entering The Games, but the look on his face when I tell him that I won the prize money will totally be worth it.

I reach for the briefcase, but he snaps it shut.

"Not so fast, you'll want to hear me out first." He latches shut the briefcase. "You can take the $20,000 and return to your life in The Wastes. Or," he slides forward the envelope, "you can take this and start a new life."

Hesitantly I open the envelope and set the contents out on the table, not sure what could possibly be more enticing than $20,000.

It's a citizenship for The White City and a housing permit. It's got my school picture and my name printed neatly and clearly on the official documents.

"Is this for real?"

He nods. "As real as a bullet. The decision is yours. You can take the money, free your brother and hope it lasts you a couple of years. Or you can take the citizenship and start over anew. Clean slate, if you will, in a city that can only give you good."

I stare up at him, not sure what to say. I know I should take the money, but the citizenship would be the chance to actually become something. If I take the citizenship though, I will never see Luca again and he was the whole point in coming here, in risking my life.

$20,000 with my brother or a new life alone?

I suck in a sharp breath before reaching forward.