Arena 3

  My blood-soaked knife clatters to the floor, and then, all at once, quiet descends. I stand there panting, Jack whimpering in my arms, the warm blood of the crazy dripping down my face. Slowly, I turn back to face the other guards.

  They’re all looking at me in disbelief, as though they can hardly comprehend what I just did. I can’t tell if they’re scared of me or in awe of me, but the main thing is that my secret life as a killer can no longer be hidden.

  I cradle Jack in my arms then slowly approach Ryan. I place the dog in his arms. His cocky expression has completely gone. His arrogance seems to have faded, too, leaving behind a stunned and slightly alarmed expression.

  “Thank you,” he says, quietly. But I think what he really means is, “I get it now.” For the first time he understands what sort of world we really live in, and what sort of person it has made me.

  Everyone else seems too stunned to move. I feel I have no choice but to take control of the situation.

  “We should report back to the Commander,” I say, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. “That attack wasn’t accidental. It was planned. That means there might be more to come.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Twilight is breaking by the time we make it back to the fort. Up ahead I see a group of guards who must have returned from guard duty before us sitting around a bonfire, chatting away without a care in the world. They begin whispering when they notice us trudging wearily toward them.

  A tall, lanky man with a goatee comes up to us.

  “What happened to you lot?” he says, smirking.

  “A breach,” Molly explains.

  Immediately, the man’s expression changes. “What do you mean?”

  “We were attacked,” Ryan adds. “By a group of crazies.”

  The rest of the group begins to take notice of the conversation. They stand up from their positions around the bonfire and come over, listening intently, looks of concern on their faces.

  “Did anyone get hurt?” the man with the goatee asks.

  Ryan shakes his head. “Thankfully not. But if it hadn’t been for Brooke, there might have been fatalities.”

  I shift uncomfortably as everyone’s attention turns to me, the stranger, taking in the sight of my blood-splattered uniform. But rather than looking scared of me like the others who’d seen me kill the crazy at the outpost, they look at me with respect. People start congratulating me, clapping me on the shoulder. Zeke, the man with the goatee, salutes me.

  I can’t believe it. I’d been so worried about people finding out about me being a killer and judging me for it, it’s quite a relief for it all to be out in the open. I can’t remember the last time I felt accepted like this.

  “Someone get this girl a drink!” Zeke says, before adding, “We don’t have liquor, I’m afraid, so I hope you like mint tea.”

  “That sounds great,” I say, but I’m still in fight-or-flight mode. “But we should report to the Commander.”

  Zeke shakes his head and rests a hand on my arm. “Don’t. It will just make him more paranoid.”

  “But…” I begin, but he interrupts me.

  “Honestly,” he says, passing me a mint tea. “The Commander is becoming more and more isolated. We take in fewer survivors every year. To be honest, I’m surprised he even let you guys stay. We’ve kicked kids out younger than you before. If he knows the attack came so soon after you arrived, he’ll probably blame it on you, saying you led them here. So if I were you, I wouldn’t give him more reasons to turn people away.”

  The heat from the tea seeps into my skin as his words seep into my mind. It hadn’t occurred to me that not everyone within Fort Noix would be on board with the way the Commander chooses to run things. But, like the Forest Dwellers I saw earlier, it seems as though not everyone is happy with how things work here, with the Commander’s stance on not taking in outsiders. My gut instinct back when I’d met him in his office earlier this morning had been revulsion—to not take in outsiders is the equivalent of sentencing them to death. But then I’d gotten so caught up in it all, in being a guard, in protecting this precious place, that I’d let myself forget how cruel that policy really is.

  Just then, I hear a voice calling me from far away.

  “Brooke!”

  It’s Bree. I turn and see her running along the path toward me, Charlie just a few steps behind. Neena walks a little way behind them both with Penelope on a lead. Some of the girls and women from our house are walking beside her, and the boys from Ben’s house are also coming toward the bonfire.

  Bree reaches me, flies into my arms, and hugs me tightly. I hold her close.

  “What happened?” she cries, moving out of the embrace. “You were gone for hours. I was worried.”

  I smile at her reassuringly. “I’m OK.”

  “Is Jack okay?” Bree asks, bending down to stroke the pit bull at Ryan’s feet.

  “He’s fine,” Ryan says to Bree, but his eyes are locked on me. “Thanks to Brooke.”

  Over Bree’s crouched figure, Ryan’s smoldering eyes burn into me. Before, I wasn’t sure what he thought about me, but now I do. He admires me. My stomach flutters at the thought.

  “Where’s Ben?” Charlie asks.

  Immediately, I feel guilty for letting myself feel anything toward Ryan at all. I glance around, searching for Ben. I see him sitting on a bench, alone, beside the fire. He looks just as lost back at the fort as he did out in the forest.

  “There he is,” I say to Charlie. “Why don’t you go and get him some tea?”

  “I’ll get it,” Ryan says, his intense gaze still fixed on me.

  I falter. “Okay… thanks.”

  I watch, my stomach roiling, as he disappears into the crowd.

  Bree grabs my hand and drags me toward the bonfire. Charlie follows, and the three of us sit down beside Ben. Despite the danger we’ve just been in, we’re all still overjoyed to be at Fort Noix. To be warm, clothed, and cared for. To be amongst allies. But Zeke has planted a seed of doubt in my mind. Is it enough for just us to be warm, clothed, and cared for? Is it okay to sit on our laurels when others like us die out in the wilderness at the hands of slaverunners, biovictims, and crazies?

  Ryan comes back with more mint tea and some chicken soup for us all.

  “Do you want to join us?” I ask him.

  I want to speak to him about the Commander’s isolationist position, about his hard-line policy on not letting in survivors. But Ryan casts his eyes over at Ben, and I look over to see that Ben’s watching us, his expression a mixture of anger and sadness.

  “Not tonight,” Ryan says. “You guys should probably spend some time together.”

  So Ryan’s starting to figure it out, to understand that there’s something between Ben and me, or at least, that Ben feels something for me. He’s not prepared to tread on Ben’s toes when he’s in such a fragile state, and I’m grateful for his thoughtfulness. It seems there’s more to Ryan than meets the eye.

  I nod and watch him take the bench opposite with Molly, whose ginger hair matches the color of the flames.

  The soup tastes absolutely delicious. The heat from the bowl and the fire, along with the fresh, healthy food, rejuvenates me. I feel like I’m coming back from the dead, not just physically but psychologically too. For years I’ve been in battle mode. For years I’ve felt completely alone. But now I have people around me, people who will fight beside me. And it’s the greatest feeling in the world.

  I look over at Bree and Charlie laughing happily, as carefree as Trixie had been when I met her earlier. Finally they’re getting to be children. But Ben is a different matter altogether. He seems even more withdrawn.

  “Ben,” I say cautiously. “Is everything okay?”

  He looks at me slowly, a little dazed. “It’s just being around all these people,” he says. “It’s a bit overwhelming.”

  I know it’s more than that, but I don’t want to push him to speak when he doesn’t want to.

  Everyone f
inishes their soup.

  “I think you kids should be heading home now,” I say to Bree and Charlie. They both look exhausted, like they’re fighting to stay awake so they can be part of the festivities.

  Bree pouts. “Can’t we stay up a little longer?”

  I shake my head. ”It’s been a long day. Ben will take you home.”

  Ben looks over at me and frowns, like he thinks I’m trying to get rid of him, when really I just want him to get a good night’s sleep and rejuvenate. But he doesn’t argue; he just stands, as though hypnotized, and leads Charlie and Bree back home.

  I watch them go. But as soon as I’m alone, I feel suddenly out of place surrounded by the other guards, all laughing and joking easily. For me, smiles come rarely. The past constantly lingers in my mind like a storm cloud, only parting occasionally to let in a ray of sunshine. None of these people have the same darkness inside of them. I should be feeling peaceful and happy right now, but I can’t. I can’t just see the crazy attack as a one-off to be forgotten, because for me it was just the latest battle in my long, never-ending fight against the world we live in. And while we won that particular fight, somewhere in the world, another group of children loses.

  Ryan must notice my change in mood, because he comes over and extends his hand to me.

  “Come on,” he says.

  “Where are we going?” I reply, looking at his outstretched hand.

  “For a walk.” He beckons, urging me on. “Come on,” he presses.

  I don’t feel like I have much choice but to take his hand and let him guide me to my feet.

  We walk. It’s pitch black and the stars are twinkling above us as we stroll away from the light of the fire and out into the compound.

  “Brooke, I know that you think the way the fort works isn’t fair,” he begins.

  “What makes you say that?” I reply. “I understand why it has to work this way. I just don’t think that it’s enough for me.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  I pause, trying to gather my thoughts in such a way that I can articulate them. “I mean I have to do more,” I begin, carefully. “I can’t live with myself knowing others are out there dying. I need to do something. I can’t be part of a place that doesn’t do more to help people. It would make me a hypocrite.”

  “Does that mean you want to leave?” he asks, frowning.

  I turn my face, unsure myself what I really want. It’s true that I’ve started to question whether I’ve made the right call by coming here. Can I really sit back, after everything I’ve witnessed, and live out my life in peace, knowing that there’s a thousand more Roses out there who need saving, a hundred more Flos trapped in the arenas, a dozen more Logans who have been forced into policing a city they loathe? But at the same time, how could I force my friends and my sister back out into that world? I couldn’t. If I left, I would have to go alone. And that would mean leaving them behind.

  Ryan gently touches my arm. Warmth radiates from the place where his fingertips touch me. “I don’t want you to leave, Brooke,” he says. “Will you stay? For me?”

  I move my arm away, a little startled by the contact, by the intensity of what he’s asking me.

  “I can’t promise that,” I say, not meeting his eye. But I know it’s not enough, that I owe him more of an explanation. I take a breath then turn to meet his gaze. “Bree and I survived in the mountains for years. So did Ben and his brother. There are thousands more kids out there who don’t have anyone to help them. There are so many more survivors.”

  “And you think it’s our responsibility to be out there looking for them?” he challenges me.

  “Don’t you?” I say, my tone becoming more heated. “Don’t you think we ought to help the innocent survivors of the war?”

  I sigh, frustrated by the fact that Ryan and the rest of the people at Fort Noix have no idea at all what the real world is like now. It’s not their fault that they’ve been completely protected from it all, but I can’t help but feel the sting of injustice. That one random crazy attack can shake them to the core when for me, it’s an everyday occurrence.

  Ryan gives me a steely look. “I understand why you’re angry. And trust me, you’re not the only one who thinks that way. It’s a controversial topic around here. But the Commander is an isolationist. It’s what he fundamentally believes. It’s kept us all alive so far, so why would he ever change it?”

  He sighs when he sees that I’m still frowning.

  “We do what we can, Brooke. We found you, didn’t we? We took you in.”

  “That’s not enough,” I contest. “Four kids and a dog, when there’s thousands out there. There are girls being kidnapped for the sex trade. There are kids fighting to the death for the entertainment of others. You’re an army, trained fighters. You could make a difference.”

  His mouth twists to the side in consternation. I can tell that my words are getting to him. But at the same time, I know he’s not going to change his mind. And why would he? Fort Noix is paradise for all who live within it. No one wants to rock the boat, or risk losing it all. Fighting off a bunch of crazies is one thing—willingly seeking them out is quite another.

  Ryan lowers his voice and looks around cautiously, as if debating whether to tell me something.

  “There are people who want to help others outside Fort Noix,” he says. “There’s actually a group who meet to discuss it.”

  “There is?” I say, relieved to hear that.

  He nods.

  “Zeke and Molly are among them. But you have to keep it quiet. The only way the Commander can keep the peace is by maintaining everything exactly as it is.”

  I understand the need for secrecy, but I’m intrigued and want to know more.

  “So what’s their plan?” I ask. “What do they propose to do? Bring survivors back to Fort Noix?”

  Ryan shrugs.

  “I don’t know. They’re not rebelling or anything like that. They’re just trying to build their numbers in order to persuade the Commander that it’s what people want. If there’s enough, he might listen.”

  “Do you think that will work?” I add. “Is he the sort of man who can be persuaded?”

  He shrugs.

  “It hasn’t worked so far,” Ryan replies.

  I think about my meeting with the Commander earlier in the day. He’d been hard-line about us not joining Fort Noix, but I’d managed to convince him to change his mind. About Penelope too. There’s leeway in him, definitely.

  “I’d like to meet them,” I say, “the others who want to search for survivors.”

  Ryan nods. “I’ll take you to a meeting,” he says. “If it’s a way to get you to stay.” He suddenly shoves his hands into his pockets and looks shy.

  “Thanks,” I reply, grateful for the darkness that is hiding my blush.

  “Brooke,” he says hurriedly, “I know it’s early but…I wanted to ask you if maybe one day you’d want to go on a date with me? I mean, I know ‘date’ isn’t really the right word for it anymore, but I just mean, well…you know what I mean.”

  His voice drops as he speaks and his gaze falls to my lips. I realize he’s thinking about kissing me.

  I want to say yes to a date, want to consent to a kiss, but something inside is holding me back. It’s the shadow of Logan in my mind. It’s the echo of Ben’s kiss on my lips. And it’s the horror of everything I’ve been through.

  Ryan must sense my hesitation because he starts to rub his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, bad timing on my part, right? I mean we almost all died today and here I am asking you on a date.”

  “I’d love to,” I interrupt him with a hurried whisper. “But I can’t. Not now. Not yet.”

  “Because of what you went through in the arenas?” he asks.

  I glance away, feeling suddenly uncomfortable and embarrassed.

  “I have to figure out how to live in this new world first,” I say. “I’ve spent so long fighting, I don’t know who I am anymore. Do y
ou understand?”

  He looks a little hurt, but nods all the same.

  Just then, I feel something cold land on my nose. It feels like rain, but softer. I look up and see that it’s starting to snow.

  “Winter comes early in Quebec,” Ryan explains.

  I keep gazing up, watching the snowflakes fall. I feel happy and content, grateful to be alive and well fed. But I also feel like staying at Fort Noix forever just won’t be possible.

  Out of the corner of my eye I can see Ryan watching me, studying me, trying to work me out.

  “Will you at least stay for the winter?” Ryan says. “After everything you’ve been through, you deserve that much, don’t you? It’s not selfish to want to recuperate and rest. And you can help far more people in the spring. You don’t know what our winters are like here.”

  I don’t answer, but keep looking up at the falling snow, reflecting the twinkling starlight. I don’t want to promise Ryan anything I won’t be able to give.

  “If you won’t stay for me,” he adds, quietly, “stay for Ben.”

  Finally, my head snaps over to look at Ryan. “What do you mean?” I challenge him.

  “I’ve seen guys like that before,” Ryan says. “I’m worried he might have PTSD.”

  I nod. I’d been thinking the same thing.

  “You know everyone has to work here, right?” he adds. “The Commander isn’t particularly kind when it comes to things like that.”

  “What do you mean?” I whisper.

  “I mean the Commander wouldn’t keep a useless soldier around. He doesn’t have the resources or the motivation to rehabilitate damaged people.”

  My insides turn to ice at the thought of Ben being turfed out of Fort Noix and left to fend for himself when at his most vulnerable. If I’d had any concerns about leaving my friends and sister before, they’re now magnified by ten times. If the Commander finds out about Ben’s PTSD, he’ll be kicked out for sure.

  Which means for now, I have no choice but to stay and look after him.