Savage Run (19 page)

I look at Arthor, who’s not breathing
either, rather gawking at the water like he’s expecting Cory to
suddenly appear. Trying to get my mind off Cory’s death—and what
his death means when it comes to my fate—I ask, “So, what’s your
secret?”

Arthor’s lips draw to a line and he sits
back down. “Will you promise me you’ll still be my friend after I
tell you?”

I sigh. If this is one of my last moments,
I’m not going to waste it holding onto a grudge. “If you want me
to.”

He nods. “Ready?”

I nod.

He leans in and whispers, his hand cupped to
my ear. “I’m gay.”

I do everything I can to not react in any
which way—not shocked, or confused, or disturbed, the very emotions
I’m feeling at the moment. Shocked. I never suspected anything; he
seems as straight as any other guy I’ve met. Disturbed. I always
thought gays were so different— strange. He must think I hate him,
especially after how I reacted when he thought I might be gay. I
have to admit, I don’t really know a lot about the subject.
Sometimes gay citizens are given the chance to join a
rehabilitation program, which supposedly cures them. I’ve even
heard President Volkov say there’s no such thing as a homosexual
person, but that homosexuality is a disease that can be developed
from watching indecent programs. It doesn’t sound quite right to
me.

“
No response?” he says,
chuckling lightly, grabbing behind his neck.

“
Well, I just never
thought…er…I’m surprised,” I say with all honesty. “But thank you
for telling me.” My father hates gay people, says they’re the scum
of the earth and that it states in the Bible that they’re an
abhorrence in the sight of God. I believe in a God, too, but
somehow I can’t imagine that a loving God hates any of his
children.

Arthor sighs. “It feels good to get that off
my chest.”

“
Have you told anyone
before?” I ask.

He shakes his head somewhat sheepishly.

“
Not even your
parents?”

“
No. Well, Tristan was the
only one who knew. And my…boyfriend.” He glances at me from
underneath his eyelashes.

His boyfriend? Who could that be? I never
once saw him with anyone I’d suspect of being his boyfriend. All
these years, and I never knew.

“
My parents suspect, I
think, if they don’t know already. My father seems to avoid me
whenever he can.”

“
I’m sorry.”

He claps his hands together and rubs them
briskly. “Well, let’s do this thing.” Struggling to his feet,
limping on his one good leg, he toes the edge of the cliff and
peers down.

I stop him. “Wait…can I…hold your hand?” I
don’t know where that came from, but something inside me needs
someone right now. And somehow, revealing to him my deepest secret,
and him revealing his to me, it feels natural to share this
defining moment with him.

He smiles. “Sure. On three?”

I stand up and walk over to the side of the
edge, looking down on the same bottomless sea that just swallowed
up Cory’s body. My head starts to spin and my legs turn into two
wobbly stilts. It’s way farther than I’ve ever dreamed of jumping,
and way farther than I can see myself surviving. Should I quit? If
I pull out of the obstacles, I’ll be sent back home—nothing would
be worse than that. I just need to do this before I think about it
any more or before I lose the little ignorance I still have left
and change my mind.

Trying to get a hold of my erratic
breathing, I think about what Nicholas said to me before I left the
Conference Center: “And for the last jump, make sure you jump feet
first, no interlocking of the fingers, close your eyes and plug
your nose.”

Instead of reaching for my locket, I take
Arthor’s hand in mine and clasp my other hand underneath my armpit.
Don’t think. Just count. “One…two…” I can’t! I’ll die! Tristan!
No—don’t think, just do it!

“
Three!”

Chapter 15

There’s a time in all our lives where we
come to a realization that no matter what we do or how we choose to
spend the hours and days that are ours, death is the only outcome.
It’s crazy really how we walk around as if that momentous day will
never arrive—like it’s a myth or an illusion—avoiding thinking
about that instant when we will no longer exist. Maybe it’s a
survival instinct. If we truly understood that death can snatch us
before we’re even aware of it, we would be freaking out, desperate
to avoid the inevitable, searching for a remedy that would
immortalize our bodies.

But it’s too late for me.

Arthor and I jump over the edge, and the
sudden drop makes me breathless. The wind whips against me and
howls in my ears, but I keep my eyes shut and continue to squeeze
Arthor’s hand, telling myself that by doing so, the impact will be
less painful by doing so.

As if by chance, I remember to plug my nose
and not a second later, a force as hard as concrete smashes against
my feet. The next thing I know, cold liquid rushes around my body,
and I sink into the seemingly bottomless ocean. At first, I’m glad
there are no hidden rocks I collide with, but when I continue to
drop at a fast pace, it occurs to me if I don’t stop sinking, I
might never make it back up. Just like Cory.

I kick my feet and move my arms, but I
continue to sink. I kick more vigorously, but the faster I move my
limbs, the more my lungs burn and the farther I’m drawn under
farther. I exhale halfway. When I open my eyes, thousands of
bubbles surround me, obscuring my view in the dark ocean. At first,
I become desperate, not being able to see anything, but then it
occurs to me: these bubbles must be coming from somewhere and
sinking deeper and deeper is all part of the plan. This is why Cory
and all the other participants vanished. I’m desperate to take a
breath, but am able to hold off a little longer, believing that
I’ll soon be safe. Then I exhale completely.

My thoughts are confirmed when I get to the
ocean floor, and I see light shining from an open hatch. Arthor and
I are sucked toward it and into some sort of a capsule. The pull is
so strong that I become stuck to a wall right next to him. But
things are not happening fast enough. As I inhale, the salty fluid
burns my throat and chest, and I start to heave. Unwilling to die
alone, I take Arthor’s limp hand in mine.

The door to the container closes with a
bang, and not a second later, the water drains out of the capsule
and is replaced with air. Collapsing onto my hands and knees, I
vomit the water out and gasp for air.

“
Please take your seats and
secure your harnesses,” a woman’s voice says.

I continue to cough until all the fluid has
come up. When I come to myself, I see Arthor still lying lifeless
on the floor. I crawl over so I’m kneeling next to him, stoop down
beside him and bring my ear to his mouth to check for breathing. My
heart nearly stops when I realize there’s no sound or movement.

“
Arthor!” I scream, taking
him by the shoulders and shaking him.

The female voice says, “Prepare for
departure.”

I try to lift Arthor up, but he’s too heavy.
Instead, I lie on top of him and hold onto the bottom of a seat in
hopes we won’t go flying when the capsule takes off.

“
Three, two,
one…”

The capsule ejects to a start, and unable to
keep my grip, we are thrown into the back wall. My skull hits
against the glass, and I fall to the floor with a thud. The impact
is so hard my head spins. I get the wind knocked out of me, causing
me to gasp for air once more. As I catch my breath, I kneel beside
Arthor, place the base of my palms on his chest and start to
compress. His face is limp and gray.

“
Arthor! Wake up!” I
compress his chest again—harder this time—and grant him a few more
breaths. “Come back!” I grab his shoulders and shake them. “Just
don’t die…” I push on his chest again, putting all my weight into
it.

Finally, he starts to cough and water spurts
from his throat. My heart leaps in my chest, feeling like it’s
going to burst. I can’t tell whether I’m laughing or crying.

“
Arthor, can you hear me?”
He doesn’t answer. I lift his head and place it in my lap to get it
off the hard, cold floor. I run my fingers through his wet hair and
as he continues to breath, the color slowly returns to his
face.

“
Arthor,” I whisper, but he
still doesn’t open his eyes. The capsule continues forward and
every few seconds I glance at his chest to make sure he hasn’t
stopped breathing.

* * *

The five minutes it takes us to get back to
Trollheim seems like days. When we arrive, hordes of people wait
outside on the UVC station brick platform, and several of them are
waving Culmination’s flag. What are they doing here, and how do
they know about us? They cheer loudly when they spot us and try to
break through the wall of Normark security guards who are
struggling to keep the onlookers contained. Once the capsule has
reached a complete stop, the doors open, and a cool breeze gusts
in, causing me to shiver. Just then, Arthor mumbles something. I
gently press my palm to his face and when he opens his eyes, I take
his hand in my other hand.

“
You’re going to be
okay.”

Nicholas enters the capsule first, and the
moment he sees me, he exhales so loudly I can hear it.

“
Welcome back,” he says and
throws a blanket around my shoulders.

I didn’t think seeing him again would have
any effect on me, but when our eyes connect, I feel safe again.

Mai enters and spreads a blanket across
Arthor’s body. Taking one look at Arthor’s leg, she scowls. “Oh,
dear. It’s worse than I thought. Much worse. Nick…”

Nicholas examines Arthor’s leg carefully.
“He’ll bleed to death if we can’t stop it.”

“
Well, what are you waiting
for?” I ask.

Nicholas’s face grows weary. “No medical
treatment is provided during the program.”

“
What?” I shout.

“
Joseph,” Nicholas says in
a low voice. He stands up and shouts at the reporters who have
slithered their way into the capsule. They retreat back
outside.

“
I don’t remember that
being in the contract,” I say.

“
It’s there.” Mai glances
at Nicholas. I’m about to object, but before I get a single word
out, Mai says, “Let’s bring him back to the hotel. To my
room.”

“
Yes, let’s,” Nicholas
says. We don’t even get a stretcher so Nicholas and one of the
security guards lift Arthor to the transporter that’s waiting for
us outside.

“
We love you, Joseph!” I
hear some girls beckon from the crowd, and when I look over at
them, they giggle. My cheeks flush with blood; it’s embarrassing to
me how they think I’m a guy. I get into the transporter and sit
between Arthor and Nicholas. Arthor’s eyes are rolling to the back
of his head. It makes me furious how President Volkov can spend so
much money on the obstacle courses, but not find it in his heart to
provide medical care for those who suffer injuries.

“
We’re pleased you made
it,” Mai says with a soft smile, sitting in the front seat with the
driver. “I have to be honest; no one thought you would
survive.”

“
Except for me.” Nicholas
takes my hand, squeezing it ever so softly, and even though I feel
halfway dead, his warm skin sends tingles through me.

“
How many survived?” I
ask.

“
The numbers are still
rolling in, but when I checked a few minutes ago, it said that
roughly half the participants either died, or withdrew,” Nicholas
says.

“
Half? Now I feel guilty
for having...” I close my mouth, not wanting Arthor to know about
my advantage during the marathon.

Mai glances back at Nicholas and clears her
throat.

“
What?” I ask.

“
We’ll talk about it
later,” Nicholas says. “Let’s make sure Arthor is stable
first.”

I’m curious to know what Nicholas has to say
but drop the subject.

Mai catches me up on how some of the other
registrars thought Arthor was an idiot for helping me through the
marathon, but when I helped him climb Devil’s Cliff, they
rescinded, saying Arthor was perceptive for having teamed up with
the smart contestant. Nicholas shares how his father was very
surprised I survived the first phase, and how it shows that
intelligence trumps physical superiority. I don’t like hearing that
President Volkov is paying attention to me.

“
How come there are so many
reporters here?” I ask.

“
A few reporter drones made
it into the obstacle courses, and now it’s all over the
news.”

I remember seeing one on top of Devil’s
Cliff. “Oh…” What if they recorded what Arthor and I said? Or when
Arthor shouted my real name? My shoulders become tense. I do
remember looking around before Arthor and I spoke about our
secrets, but I can’t be certain.

A short time later, we arrive at a
skyscraper hotel that has a golden Viking longship in the front
courtyard. Mai explains we were supposed to stay in Volkov Village
again, but that it was delayed due to Hurricane Chloe. When Prime
Minister Halvor of Normark, a huge fan of obstacle courses in
general, and a supporter of equal rights, found out about the
dilemma, he immediately offered to house us in the Valhalla
Hotel.

I don’t mind one bit.

A bellboy with white gloves and silver
buttons on his suit opens our doors and greets us with a warm
smile. But when he sees Arthor’s leg, his grin drops several
notches.