Backs Against the Wall (Survival Series) (11 page)

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.

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 riser
s, 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.”

“It’s the non-living I’m worried about,” I grumble.

“It shouldn’t be.”

Two of the Risen descend on Ryan where he sits crouched, waiting. He must sense them or smell them because he reacts immediately. He lashes out to the right, deftly grabbing a Risen by the ankle and yanking its leg out from under it. It topples onto its back, cracking it’s head on the floor. But it doesn’t stop moving. Ryan stands quickly, still holding the ankle. He pushes his foot into the Risen’s groin, makes a sharp twisting motion and yanks up. The Risen’s leg snaps free at the kneecap.

“And he just got himself a weapon,” Trent muses proudly.

I don’t dare look at him because I’m pretty sure from his tone that he’s smiling and no part of me can handle that right now.

The second Risen is creeping up on Ryan’s back. I can see the third as well, coming around the far side of the Arena. It’s distracted by the people around the edges. It keeps grabbing at them, lunging to get through the barrier but the people are too quick for it.

Ryan takes firm hold of the ankle on the lower leg he’s holding, spins around and smacks the Risen behind him in the face. It stumbles but doesn’t go down. Reaching out with its gray hands, it grabs for Ryan. He feels its touch, jumps back a step, crouching low again. I watch in horror as he puts the leg on the ground beside him and waits, defenseless again.

The Risen comes at him, lumbering toward him with surprising speed. Ryan immediately tackles it at the knees, standing up and bringing it into the air. Then he spins, bringing the Risen
back down to the ground. Hard. Its head bounces off the cement floor, then smacks down again. Ryan lands on top of it, quickly groping for the arms, then pinning them down with his knees. He’s straddling the chest as the Risen snaps at him, its arms flailing uselessly to get ahold of him. Ryan moves his hand to the top of the head, carefully feels down the sides until he has hold of the ears, then he jerks the head forward and slams it into the cement again. He rears back, bringing the head with him, then throws all of the weight of his upper body into the movement of smashing the Risen’s skull down again. He does it three more times, quick as anything I’ve ever seen, and the Risen goes slack. Motionless. Completely dead.