Текст книги "Backs Against the Wall"

Автор книги: Tracey Ward

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Dante shakes his head, a harsh breath coming out his nose, but I see his mouth twitch at the corners. “One minute.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“You’re insane.”

“Get out of here.”

He turns to leave, shouting over his shoulder, “Fifty seconds!”

“Unbelievable,” Freedom mutters. She turns to Ryan. “You better get to that meeting. You know where to go?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

She pats him affectionately on the shoulder as she steps past him. “You need anything, you come find me, alright?”

“Thanks, Freedom.”

“Thirty seconds!”

“Oh, Grandma Jean is gonna be in a world of hurt, I swear to you!” Freedom shouts as she saunters off in the direction Dante is disappearing.

Ryan looks at me, his face tense. “You could wait out here. Trent could stay with you.”

“You shouldn’t go in there alone,” Trent tells him.

“She can’t stay out here alone.”

“So she won’t stay out here at all,” I snap.

I’m grateful for the rage I felt toward Elise. The excitement at the idea of dismantling her has chased the shakes away. I don’t feel any braver, but I’m not outwardly pissing myself in fear either. Progress.

“We do this together or we don’t do it at all,” I say, my voice a little softer.

Ryan sighs, but he nods reluctantly. Trent and I follow him toward the reception desk where we cut right down a dark hallway. Another bouncer with dark almond eyes and perfect mocha skin stops us, gives Ryan the runaround about fighting just like everyone else, then finally leads us to a closed white door. I’m surprised that he doesn’t knock. Just opens it up and sends us right in.

The office isn’t much, but it is large. There are small square tables arranged in every corner, all of them occupied by a few people speaking in hushed voices, but at the far end of the room there’s a large half circle of couches arranged on a platform. There are several men of all ages seated on the couches, all of them talking loudly and laughing. Not too loudly to miss our entrance, though.

“Ryan!” a tall man with long, shaggy hair graying around the temples exclaims. He sits forward in his seat, his eyes landing on Ryan and looking excited. I don’t like that look.

Ryan nods slightly. “Marlow.”

So this is Captain Hook in the flesh.

“Good of you to join us. I sent for you hours ago.”

“I came when I got the message.”

Marlow leans to the side dramatically, eyeing Trent with mock suspicion. “Maybe I sent the wrong messenger.”

“No, I was… unreachable for a while.” Ryan gestures over his shoulder to me.

I can feel every eye at the circle of couches fall on me. I’m acutely aware of the clothes I’m wearing but I’m more aware of what I’m not wearing. I long for the jacket draped over my arm but to put it on now would be to hide. To show weakness. So I square my shoulders, raise my chin, and even though the shakes are coming back, I keep my eyes locked on Marlow’s.

“Now that,” he says softly, eyeing me, “I can most certainly forgive. Where did she come from?”

Ryan shrugs, casually scanning the room. “I don’t know. She’s a loaner from the Elevens.”

I thought I was from the Pikes, I think.

I nearly scowl, nearly pinch my brow in confusion, but I lock it down. Marlow is still watching me closely.

He grins, sitting back in his seat. Finally his eyes fall to Ryan again and I can breathe.

“I’ll have to get in touch with them. They have better inventory than I thought. But I’m glad you’re finally here. You and I need to talk. It’s come to my attention that you’ve come out of retirement.”

“You’ve been lied to. I’m not fighting for anyone.”

Marlow’s eyes go round in surprise. “Really? I saw you fight with my own eyes.”

Ryan shakes his head. “I was dealing with Kevin’s death. I needed an outlet. I worked it out in the ring. I’m over it now.”

“Just like that, eh?”

“It wasn’t so easy.”

“No, I doubt it was. So you’re not fighting under the Hyperions?”

“No. I’m not fighting for anyone.”

“Not even for the right price?”

“I’m not as good as he was. I’ll die sooner rather than later.”

Marlow nods slowly, his eyes drifting around the room. “You’re right about that. You’re not as good as your brother was, but you’re still one of the best out there. And I do hate to see talent go to waste.” His eyes land on me again. “A sure fire money maker is so hard to find.”

“I’m not in the market,” Ryan tells him firmly.

“A shame. Well, then be on your way, I guess. If we have nothing else to say to each other.”

Ryan nods again, then starts to back out of the room. His hand grips mine gently, careful of my injured arm. I go willingly when he pulls on it.

“Hold on,” Marlow calls. “Leave the girl. I’ll return her to the Elevens.”

Ryan freezes, his grip tightening painfully. “I can’t. She’s checked out in my name.”

Marlow waves his hand. “I’ll return her for you. I’ll even pay your fee on top of my own. I’d like a taste of what they’ve got up there.”

Ryan is breathing fast and hard, his grip not loosening.

Marlow’s eyes shift to Ryan slowly. “Is there a problem?”

“She’s not staying.”

Marlow smiles. “Either she’s staying or we have a problem. Do you want to have a problem with me, Ryan?”

“She knows Vin,” Trent speaks up calmly. All eyes dart to him. “She has a message from him.”

Marlow doesn’t miss a beat, though his smile disappears. “Vin is no longer with us.”

“Not with you here, but he is alive.”

That’s a big maybe, I think, but I keep it to myself.

Trent looks at me with his intense eyes. They speak volumes, all of them saying don’t mess this up.

“Show him the ring.”

I look at Ryan meaningfully. He releases my hand but his eyes are tight, full of worry and regret. I smile faintly at him before I turn to Marlow, hoping it’s reassuring. I raise my hand, showing Marlow the large ring on my finger.

He eyes it without emotion, his face completely placid. I can’t tell if he actually recognizes it. Then he speaks and the entire room freezes from the chill of his tone. I know immediately I’ve struck a chord with the ring but the tension rolling through the room makes me worry it’s one I shouldn’t have hit. It makes me wonder if I’m making it out of this room with all my fingers.

“Out,” he says coldly, his eyes hard on mine. “Everyone out. Now.”

Chapter Ten

“When did you steal that ring from him?” Marlow asks, his voice so low I barely hear it.

My heart is in my throat. I have to swallow to speak, but I hold his eye because I know to look away is to admit something. Guilt, lies, theft, murder. None of these will get us out of this room unscathed. It’s emptied out except for the three of us, Marlow and a few men scattered around the room guarding all the exits. Guarding the Boss.

“He gave it to me.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not. I was in the Colony with him. I was in the van with him when he, Nats and Breanne were taken.”

Marlow watches me closely, debating. The fact that I know the girls’ names might give me some credibility. Or I might just be a pro with good listening skills on market day.

“You were in a Colony with him.”

It’s not a question. It’s a dubious statement. Like saying ‘So, you’re the tooth fairy’.

“Yes.”

“But you’re standing here now.”

“Yes.”

“Try again. How’d you get that ring?”

“He gave it to me,” I insist firmly, sticking to my story. “He told me to bring it to you. That you’d recognize it because he said it was his old man’s and it’s the only thing that’s ever meant anything to him.”

I’m spinning the ring nervously on my finger the way Vin did when he was thinking. I stop when I notice Marlow watching me do it.

“Why would he give it to you to bring to me?”

I breathe deeply.

Here we go.

“Because the people in the Colony, they want to make a deal. They want your help. Vin was supposed to be the one standing here telling you all of this. The Colonists were going to break him out with the promise that he’d come back with help.”

“What do Colonists need help with?” he snarls.

“Getting out. Not all of them are happy. They’re trapped just like I was. Just like Vin is. Slaves in their own home. They want to overthrow the leaders, take control of the building and get their freedoms back.”

“And Vin promised to help with this?”

“He said he’d try,” I reply weakly.

Marlow chuckles, shaking his head. “Now I know you’re lying. You never knew Vin. You may have met him, you certainly robbed him, which is impressive in and of itself, but if you knew him you’d know you’re talking crazy. That man wouldn’t lift a finger to save his own mother even if it wouldn’t cost him anything. He’s not what you call altruistic.”

I shake my head, feeling foolish.

“It means selfless,” Trent says quietly behind me.

My face burns with embarrassment, my temper flaring.

“He wasn’t going to come back to help us,” I say sharply to Marlow. “He was going to betray us all. He knew it, Nats knew it, I knew it. You seem to know it. But he messed up. He started sleeping with a crazy bitch who stabbed him, maybe killed him.”

Marlow blinks. “See, now that I believe.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” the bouncer who brought us in mutters.

“I was there when it happened. I was with him. She came at me and… and I killed her. Vin was injured, he couldn’t go and I had just killed one of their leaders so I couldn’t stay. We traded places. He gave me this ring, told me to come to you, told me that it would never work and then I left him there on the ground, bleeding.” My throat is closing again but it’s not from anxiety or fear. It’s from wondering. Worrying. Caring. “I didn’t leave him alone. One of the rebels from inside took the keys from the dead woman and got me out. He stayed with Vin. But I don’t know if he survived. I—I hope he did.”

“What do the Colonists want?” Marlow asks. He sounds genuinely curious but something else too. Distant somehow. Like he’s asking about things that have no bearing on his life in any way. Like I’m telling him an entertaining story. “What deal was Vin bringing?”

“They want you to storm the Colony in the north.”

“There is no Colony in the north.”

“Yes, there is. It’s in the old MOHAI building. The museum.”

“That Colony went down mo—“ someone begins.

“Shut up!” Marlow calls out at them, his eyes never leaving me. I struggle not to jump. He tells me softly, “Continue.”

I take a calming breath. It doesn’t help.

“The people will overthrow it from inside. It’ll be easy for you to take it down from the outside. They’ll give it to you in return. They don’t want it. All of them were brought there from other Colonies. From the stadiums and the south. They want to go home, they just need you to get them out. Then they’ll let you have the MOHAI.”

“Oh, they’ll let me have it? And they’ll just go home. Everyone will get what they want, no problem?” Marlow asks sarcastically.

“Yes,” I say, but I know it’s a lie.

“Here’s how that plays out in the real world. I send men to help overthrow the MOHAI. It goes down easy, just as you said. We take it over, the Colonists leave. Brilliant. Perfect. But here’s where it goes wrong. The people who leave, they go back to their homes. To the other Colonies. They show up, wanting to come in and suddenly the people running the big show are wondering what the hell happened to the MOHAI. So they come looking and find us there. Then they wipe us out. It’s happened before. Do you think they were the only ones with the idea of taking the stadiums? They weren’t! I will not risk a David and Goliath war over a pimp’s promise that he would have broken the second he got out.”

“David won,” Trent says, seemingly oblivious to the rage written all over Marlow’s face. To the wrath dripping from his tone.

I try not to flinch, but I fail.

Blood in the water.

“I tried,” I say, trying to sound strong. To make up for my small mistake. “That’s all I told them I’d do. I understand why you won’t do it, but you have to understand why I had to try. We’ll find the help we need somewhere else.”

“Where do you think you’ll find it? With the Hyperions?” Marlow asks bitingly. “They don’t even know these two traitors are here. They don’t know he’s been fighting. I can have him kicked out tomorrow with what’s happened here tonight. Where will you find help then?”

My heart aches in my chest. I hadn’t thought of that. How had I not considered that? Ryan has betrayed his gang, Trent too. They’ll be banished if they’re found out. The gangs are insane about loyalty and the things they’ve been doing, the lying and fighting and the sneaking around, it’s all been for nothing. For me. And it will cost them everything.

I want to turn to them, to apologize, but I can’t. I can’t leak more blood in this shark tank. I might not make it out alive as it is.

“The Vashons,” I say, grasping at straws. “We’re going to the island.”

Marlow doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breathe. He only stares at me with his burning eyes and a frown etched on his face. It’s been there since I brought up Vin and I recognize that symptom. Marlow has the same disease I do. He cares. He cares about Vin, about where he is and if he’s alive. That’s why he’s so angry at me. He had written him off, buried his body in the Sound, then I walked in and resurrected him before his eyes.

I’ll pay for that. For the hope. For that dirtiest of dirty words.

“The island, huh? That’s… something. What is that, Rex?” Marlow asks over his shoulder. “What would you call that?”

“Stupid.”

“Suicidal,” someone else agrees.

“I think it’s perfect,” Marlow says happily. His happy is freakier than his pissed off. I fight another flinch when he smiles at me. “I’ll tell you what. If you get the Vashons to come up here and help you with your war, we’ll back your play.”

This feels dangerous. Everything in this place feels dangerous. Especially that smile.

“And if they won’t help?”

He shrugs carelessly. “Then nothing. Then you’re on your own. You don’t bring this to me again.”

“What’s the catch?”

He chuckles. “Why do you assume there’s a catch?”

I don’t answer.

He grins knowingly. Appreciatively. “Let’s just say I’ll be impressed if you get the elitists off their island. So impressed that I’ll be willing to help you in any way I can.”

“Deal.”

“Joss,” Ryan murmurs. I can feel him move close beside me.

“We need a boat to reach the island,” Trent tells Marlow.

I hear Ryan sigh. We’ve run away from him, sprinting down a hill full steam with no chance of stopping. Not until we’re forced to. Or until we fall.

“You’re full of needs and wants, aren’t you?” Marlow asks. He nods as he rises, as he makes his way off the platform to stand in front of us. “You can borrow a boat. For a price.”

I actually feel better talking cost with him. It’s solid. It’s real. It’s not smoke and mirrors, smiles and scowls that pretend to mean one thing but really mean another entirely.

“What will it cost?” I ask.

“Dammit,” Ryan mutters.

I glance at him, unsure. He’s frowning at me.

“We should have had more Market 101 discussions. That’s not a great way to negotiate.”

“We can negotiate with him?” I whisper.

“Everything is negotiable, kid,” Marlow tells me. “You just gotta make sure you know the worth of what you want. How much is getting this boat worth to you?”

I shake my head, completely at a loss. I don’t have anything, definitely not anything they don’t already have.

“Not flush at the moment, huh? That’s alright. We can still do business. Tell me, what did Vin value you at?”

“What?” I ask, stunned and angry at where this conversation is going.

“The man’s a professional. He can’t help himself. No way he spent any amount of time with you and didn’t slap a price tag on you. So, what was it?”

I open my mouth to answer, to lie and say he never told me, but Ryan cuts me off.

“I’ll fight.”

“No!” I snap at him.

He ignores me. He locks eyes with Marlow with a cold indifference.

“I’ll do it. That should be worth a boat.”

Marlow considers him for a long, painful moment.

“You’ll fight for me?”

“No, just one fight. Tonight. That’s it.”

“How does that benefit me? Everyone bets on you. I’d make pennies off it.”

“Not if I fight in the Blind.”

Marlow grins. “Really?”

“Once. I’ll do it one time.”

“That’s as often as anyone ever does it.”

“What’s the Blind?” I ask.

Again, I’m ignored. I’m reminded of Crenshaw and Ryan in the hut and I worry this is becoming a thing.

“You’d be the only one to know,” Ryan tells him. “The only person betting high on the Blind.”

“Won’t that create some suspicion?”

Ryan shrugs, scowling at Marlow. “It’s your club isn’t it? What do you care what they think? Bet under a different name. Send a lackey down to do it.”

“Hmmm.” Marlow turns, his head hanging forward as he thinks. Finally he turns to face us again, his hand stretched out to Ryan. “You have yourself a deal.”

Ryan shakes firmly with him, his face going blank. The guilt I carry like a stone in my stomach grows until it feels like it will break me in two. I hate all of this, myself included.

“You’ll have a boat on loan. As soon as the fight is done I’ll have the boys bring it around.”

“Bring it around now,” Ryan says, his voice low. Quiet.

Marlow raises a surprised eyebrow at him. “And why would I do that?”

“We agreed you’d lend us a boat if I fight. I’ll fight, I gave my word. But win or lose, these two get the boat. So I’ll go to the Arena from here and you’ll have the boat brought around.”

“Win or lose, as in live or die?” I ask him. Sick of being ignored, I get into his space, forcing him to look at me.

He glances down at me. His normally warm eyes are hard. Empty.

“Yes.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Marlow agrees. I can feel his eyes on me. I can feel him thinking. “Just as a point of curiosity, what did Vin price you as?”

I shouldn’t tell him. I should shut up. I should lock it down. I should lie and tell him I’m a dime. Nothing better than blank-faced Breanne. But I’m pissed. I’m mad that Ryan is going into a fight for my sake. I’m mad that I’ve been put into this position, that I’ve been forced out of hiding and thrust into this world of killers and douchebags. That I’m ruining Ryan and I’m passively watching it happen. So I do something stupid. Something emotional.

“He called me a Benjamin,” I tell him fiercely, looking him hard in the eyes.

He grins, his face openly surprised. “Really? Wow.” He looks me up and down, appraising me in new light. I can feel Ryan’s eyes on me too. I don’t know what they hold. I can only handle the weight of Marlow’s stare at the moment. “Well, he is the professional. I never would have seen it but… he would know, I suppose. Interesting.”

No one asks him why it’s interesting. I have a feeling everyone else already knows.

“Rex,” Marlow calls out, still looking at me with a luminous grin. “Get the maps. They’ll need to take a look at them before they go. We wouldn’t want them getting lost. Not with my boat.”

Rex brings in a large roll that he spreads out on a table. It’s an old map of the Sound and Seattle from back when streets had names and places had purpose beyond shelter from the storm. It looks nothing like Crenshaw’s and I miss the naked mermaid happily telling me hello. This map feels cold in comparison.

“We have so many maps here. Of the entire world, what’s left of it,” Marlow muses, pouring over the paper. “Every corner mapped out, every story told. It’s a shame really. No matter how exotic a locale, it’s made almost boring. Mundane.” He looks up at me with that creepy grin again. “There are so few uncharted territories left. So few untouched lands. They’re a gem when you can find them.”

I stare at him blankly, silently. I don’t want to encourage this conversation any further. Partly because I don’t understand it, but also because I think I’m beginning to.

Chapter Eleven

Ryan is led away by two of the guards, ushered out flanked on each side by them as though he were a flight risk. I watch him go, my stomach dropping out, my heart pinching in my chest. He doesn’t look back and I haven’t decided yet if that makes it better or worse.

Trent and I are given the rundown with the maps. We’re instructed on where exactly the Vashon’s island is and the best way to get there. Apparently everyone and their mother knows where this thing is but no one attacks it. No one bothers them. That’s very telling right there. Like this aquarium and the stadiums. Who are these people? What are we getting ourselves into by going to them? By going somewhere The Hive doesn’t dare to go.

I let Trent examine the maps, his crazy eyes absorbing every detail and committing it all to memory. I’m too distracted to deal with it. I keep thinking about Ryan, about where they’ve taken him, about what exactly this Blind business is. I really hope it’s not what it sounds like.

Finally, Trent and I are released. That’s it, just shoved out the door. Thanks for stopping by, get the hell out. They tell us the boat will be waiting at the end of the pier and we’re welcome to take it at any time. I’m relieved when Trent leads me through the entryway toward the shoe filled fish tank. I was worried he’d take me out of here, that Ryan told him not to let me see him fight. It would have killed me and I would have fought him tooth and nail to stay. No part of me believes that I could win in a fight with Trent, though. Even if I was fully healed and armed, he’d lay me on my ass.

He silently takes me back behind the tank, down another long, dark hallway, down a cramped flight of stairs lit with emergency red lights and straight into the freak show.

The Arena is my worst nightmares made real.

It’s a large dark room full of makeshift risers that creak and groan as people walk on them. They form a circle around a dome in the middle made of concrete with squares punched out to see inside. And what’s inside is what’s horrifying. Risen. Several Risen tethered to benches around the outside rim of the dome.

“It used to be a huge fish tank,” Trent tells me. He has to pull me gently along because my feet have frozen to the floor. I do not want to enter this room. “The part we’re in, the outside, is actually the tank. There used to be glass in those squares between the concrete so people inside the dome could look out at the fish.”

“Now we’re doing the opposite,” I mutter, staring at the Risen that shuffle and groan down on the main floor.

“No,” Trent says darkly. “Now we’re just fools dancing with Death, begging to die.”

I look up at him in surprise. I’ve never heard his feathers ruffled before, but he’s angry. He hates this. But he’s done it before.

“Why did you do it if—“

“Is it true?” Freedom asks me, coming out of nowhere and scaring the crap out of me.

“Whoa,” I say, convincing myself not to hit her when she rolls up on me, getting in close.

“Is it true?” she insists in a sharp whisper.

“Is what true?”

“About Vin. Is he alive?”

Word gets around fast in the shark tanks.

“Yeah,” I tell her, trying to back up. “Last I saw.”

She swears on a sigh. “I knew he was too evil to die.”

Before I can react to that, before I can wrap my head around the insult that sounds like a sweet compliment on her southern tongue, she’s gone. Trent pulls me to the top of the risers, though I wish he wouldn’t. I don’t trust these things. They’re shaking side to side every time someone new comes to stand on them. It’s like the overpass – I can just see it giving way, crushing us all. I can see the Risen getting loose. Attacking the crowd. The low lights reflecting the blood as it sprays over every surface. The screams echoing, pulsing with panic as people scramble over each other. The bites. The growling. The sickly slurps. My mother’s eyes.

“Joss,” Trent says impatiently, bumping me with his shoulder. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” I snap, blinking rapidly. Asking my eyes to swallow back the moisture brimming around them. “What happens now?”

He leans in close to speak in my ear. I tense from my toes to my tonsils.

“Because there’s a volunteer for the Blind,” he murmurs low and deep, “that’ll be the main event. The only event for the night. That’s what everyone is betting on right now. They don’t know who has volunteered, it’s kept secret, but they’re betting on whether or not he’ll survive.”

“Is it barehanded?” I ask, not understanding the huge risk, aside from the obvious. I’ve seen Ryan fight off a Risen. I’ve seen him fight off a lot of Risen. He’s unstoppable. This doesn’t sound like the lost cause I worried it would be.

Trent nods his head solemnly. “And blindfolded.”

“What?!” I shriek.

He looks at me pointedly. Doesn’t say anything, just stares at me.

“Why?” I whisper.

“It makes it a challenge.”

“It’s suicide. Has he ever done this before?”

“No,” Trent says, looking away. But not fast enough. He’s worried.

And now I’m over here growing ulcers on top of my ulcers.

“If he runs into trouble,” I ask, my voice breathy and frail, “what will happen if I run in there and help him?”

“They’ll kill you both on the spot. They don’t abide cheating here.”

“They’re cheating now,” I hiss indignantly.

Trent shrugs.

“This is crap,” I grumble.

“This is The Hive.”

By the time some idiot in a sleeveless muscle T saunters into the center of the Arena, my leg is twitching like I’m having a seizure. Trent looks at me, at my leg, then back at me again. I stare at him, begging him to say something. To give me a reason. He smirks and looks away.

“Welcome to the Arena!” muscle man shouts.

He spins in a circle to address the entire crowd. They go insane. My eyes dart around nervously as people shoot to their feet, cheering and shouting. They’re a bloodthirsty bunch.

“In this Blind,” I ask Trent, leaning in to shout in his ear over the din of the crowd, “are the Risen blinded too?”

He frowns at me. “That wouldn’t be very sporting.”

“Are you freakin’ kidding me right now?”

“I rarely kid. Pay attention, Joss. Your boy is about to make his entrance.”

I’m on my feet before I even think about it. I have to stand to see over the crowd in front of me pressing in on the dome. People have climbed the cement exterior to look down inside from the top. I’m sure it’s a great view but one false move and you’re inside the Arena. I doubt they pause the games to safely remove the fallen.

“We have a treat tonight!” muscle man cries. “As you know, we have a volunteer for the Blind!”

The crowd loses its mind again. The noise is deafening and I wonder how I’ve never heard it before, even all the way across town in my loft. They quiet down instantly as the announcer raises his hand, calling for order.

“You’ve placed your bets. You’ve weighed the odds. You’ve seen the Risen that will fight tonight. But you don’t know who your champion will be. Are you excited to find out?”

“Yes!!!” the crowd cries in unison.

“Did you vote for them to live?”

“Booo!!!” is the nearly unanimous reply.

The announcer grins maliciously. “Some of you are going to go home angry tonight. I give you your champion in the Blind…. Ryan Hyperion!!!”

There are moans, more boos, curses and exclamations of outrage. Ryan steps out into the middle of the ring wearing nothing but a pair of ratty cut off shorts. His skin is everywhere, open to the air, to our eyes. To their hands. To their mouths. It makes me feel dizzy with how wrong it is. How dangerous. But the crowd is still hissing at him, some people throwing things inside the Arena in their rage. The crowd, in a word, is angry.

“What’s happening? Do they hate him?”

“No,” Trent says with a smug smile. “They usually love him. But they all bet against him not knowing who it was. They’re mad because they know he can win.”

“And they’ll all lose.”

“Exactly.”

“Do you think he can win?”

“If you don’t screw it up, yeah.”

I scowl at him. “How would I screw it up?”

He turns to me with serious eyes. “Keep silent. Don’t distract him. He knows you’re out here watching and that’s pressure enough. If he thinks you’re in trouble or upset, he’ll make a mistake. Let him keep his head in the game. Whatever you see, whatever you hear, keep silent. Don’t you dare call out or scream.”

“I never scream,” I tell him hotly, feeling insulted.

“Well, don’t start now. It’s about to get ugly.”

He’s not joking.

The low lights are dimmed further as Ryan is blindfolded with a thick, black cloth. Then a black bag is draped over his head and tied off at the neck. There’s no way he can see anything in that cage ringed with Risen. It is the dumbest thing I have ever seen anyone do in my life.

The announcer backs away. The crowd begins to chant.

“Five!”

Men rush in, grab hold of the shackles holding the Risen in place.

“Four!”

The Risen snap at the men, eager for fresh meat.

“Three!”

A Risen stumbles toward Ryan, reaching for him where he stands in the center of the ring.

“Two!”

He’s blind. Defenseless. Surrounded by death and danger.

“One!”

The shackles are released.

The crowd goes insane. They’re screaming at the tops of their lungs, banging on the boards beneath us, shaking the ground. I’m terrified by it, but not because I think we’ll fall. Not anymore. I’m scared because Ryan is not only blind, he’s deaf. No way he can hear the Risen over this chaos echoing throughout the room.

He’s going to die. And I’m going to watch.

When the countdown ends, Ryan drops to the ground. He rolls forward across the ground, past the Risen on his right and comes to a stop just shy of the edge of the Arena. People reach in, arms trying to grab him. Probably trying to hold him in place so the Risen can get to him and they can get their drugs, whores, favors or whatever it is they’ve gambled to gain. Trent says they love him but they’d rather watch him die than lose this game. Even after all these years, with every part of me I’ve shut down and everything I’ve lost, I still know what love this. And this isn’t it.

“He knows the barriers by heart,” Trent leans down to tell me.

He stands so tall above me, I’m sure he has no trouble seeing inside the Arena. There are areas I can’t see that are blocked by people’s heads. By the shifting, writhing mass around me. I can see two of the three Risen and that third one being a mystery makes me anxious. I can’t imagine how Ryan feels not seeing any of them but knowing they’re there.

“He knows to stay away from the edges. He’s paced that Arena so many times that he has it mapped in his head. He’ll never let the living touch him.”