The Benders (23 page)

A stuttered sob comes from Betsy as she clenches and unclenches her dress.

“She’s a person.” I put a hand on Betsy’s shoulder. “You can’t just
use
people.”

“Can’t I?” Nessa raises the eyebrow again, an arch of smugness that makes me want to punch her.

“No.” I grip the fork I realize is still in my hand. “No, you can’t. You can’t treat people like guinea pigs. We aren’t your experiments to use up and throw away.”

“Clay, my love.” She curls red lips into a smile. “That’s precisely what you are.”

I lose myself to anger and run at her, fork pointed at her smug face.

Her hand flies to her side. The ankle bracelet. I forgot I was wearin—

Electricity rockets from my ankle up through my body. Pain and pulse and spasm. My face finds the tile, my body, too. For seconds that feel like decades, electricity surges through my body. Pulse and pain. Pulse and pain. I’m a live wire, frying.

And then the surge is gone and I’m left a useless mess on the tile. My muscles twitch uncontrollably. When my eyes adjust, they find the fork lying useless on the tile by my face.

Heels click in my direction and Nessa’s face appears in front of mine. “I tried to win you over with sweetness. Now I’ll have to find other ways to make you see reason.”

I want to shake my head, spit in her face, do…anything. But I can’t move. All I can do is stare into blue eyes so like my own. Like my own except the soul beneath is dead.

My mother is a monster.

When I come to, I’m strapped to a bed in a dark room. I fight against my bonds, but the straps are tight. My last memory is of my mother lookin’ at me smug.

The room is hot and I’ve sweated through my hospital gown. My body wants sleep, but I fight it. The terror is too big within me. What is she going to do to me?

When the door cracks open and Nessa walks in wearing operating scrubs, I thrash on the bed.

“Let me go!” I rock the bed so hard the metal supports creak.

She stops at my bedside and raises that damned eyebrow. “Fight all you like, dear.”

I pull against the straps, but it’s no use. Nessa watches me like a bored mother, waitin’ for her toddler to quit a tantrum. When I finally do, she smiles and pats my shoulder. “This will all be over soon.”

“What are you gonna do to me?” I can’t keep the fear outta my voice, no matter how much I hate her hearin’ it. My eyes land on the tray beside the bed. Shiny knives and operating utensils lay in neat rows, more frightening than any gun I ever seen.

Nessa follows my eyes, walks over, and picks up a scalpel. She plays with it as she talks. “Let me tell you a little story, Clay.” She touches the tip of the scalpel, makes an
ouch
face, and smiles. “Once there was a little boy who didn’t do what his mommy wanted him to do.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Let me finish!” she shrieks, her eyes wild. “This little boy was
very
naughty. He always thought he knew what was best, and did rash things that got people hurt. So, one day his mommy decided it was time for him to learn a lesson.”

“Stop,” I say, pleadin’ now. “Just let me go.”

Nessa leans down, her perfumed neck hoverin’ above my face. Her hand caresses my cheek, long and tender. I whip my head away, but her hand follows. Grippin’ my head, she presses her lips to my ear.

“I’m going to make you forget how naughty you’ve been,” she whispers.

A poke in my arm startles me. Nessa smiles, holdin’ up an empty needle. Whatever she flooded into my veins works fast. In seconds the world floats away.

“Not fair!” Nada shrieks, stumbling forward in the dust. Her opponent just stares. “I want a rematch!”

The crowd, sitting on the benches or standing in the hot dirt, looks toward Lord Merek’s platform for his decision.

He frowns as if it bothers him to have to do anything other than fan himself and eat spiced meats, but he waves at the guards to take Nada away. They drag her struggling body back, tugging on her injured shoulder until she cries out in pain. I grip the rope separating us and scan the crowd for Doc. He hasn’t returned from mending Dareen’s or my opponent’s wounds.

Nada struggles until they drag her out of the square and into the infirmary. At least Doc will take care of her. And she can’t be hurt anymore. Even though I know she’s pissed, I’m relieved.

Crete comes in and joins us in the winner’s circle, which is really a patch of dust roped off on one side. It’s me, Mister, Crete, Michal and three other benders I don’t know. All are bigger than me except Crete, and he and I are pretty much the same size. None are as big as Mister. A few feet away, he paces back and forth, a tower of a human with blood splattered on his shirt.

“Lords and ladies”—the announcer says—“this concludes round one of Lord Merek’s birthday games!” The crowd cheers appropriately. “Seven victors will go on to round two after lunch.”

We are ushered into the guard’s side of the mess hall, much cleaner with benches and chairs, and given a meal of grilled chicken breast and potatoes. I eat with abandon, stuffing my face to keep from having to talk to my opponents. A few of the other benders chat. Crete talks to a lanky brunette by the name of Joe. He seems friendly enough and I could jump in, but there’s no sense in making friends now. Who knows what I’ll be asked to do to these people?

After lunch we wait, staring at the closed door, the anxiety building like a mutating fungus.

“What d’you think the next game will be?” Crete finally asks.

A few benders come out of their stupor and look at him. Michal, who’s been staring morosely at the floor, laughs. “Probably disembowel your buddy or something else horrible. You saw how Merek likes it.”

“Yeah, wasn’t too keen on Mister’s show of mercy, was he?” another bender, named Harriette, asks.

Mister’s head snaps toward Harriette, who instantly cowers. “Didn’t mean nothing by it, man,” Harriette stammers, holding her hands out in defense.

Mister glares at her for a moment and then goes back to staring at the tile, breath puffing out of flared nostrils like an angry bull.

Crete gets my attention with a nudge. “Your friend really wanted to win, huh?”

I look into his eyes. They’re brown and warm and too soft to belong to someone I might have to kill. “Nada wanted to win, yeah. She wanted her freedom. So do I.”

Crete leans away from me. “Well, good luck with that.”

The doors burst open. For a moment, bright daylight shows us silhouettes of the three figures in the doorway. Nada, flanked by two guards, strides in. She comes to sit by me. I stare at her, open-mouthed.

One of the guards pauses in front of us and bangs a baton on the table for silence he already has. “Contestants, Lord Merek has changed his mind. It
was
a tie, and the only fair thing to do is to let the little bender continue. For the next round, we will pair you up in teams of two. Once we do, you don’t leave your teammate until the end of the game or you’re dead. Understand?”

No one speaks. We stand and wait for them to chain us to a stranger.

Nada gets in line behind me. It takes all my willpower not to turn around and ask her how the hell she got back in the games. Doc must be furious.

The guards move down the line, pairing people up and zip-tying their wrists together. Finally, they get to Nada and me. I’m both relieved and worried when they grab our wrists and zip-tie me to Nada.

When the guards walk away, I lean into her and whisper, “How did you do this?”

Nada looks straight ahead, stone-faced. She whispers to me out of the side of her mouth. “I told Merek I would fight to the death.” Her eyes snap to mine and her gaze is so cold I take a step back. “I mean it, Riley. I’ll kill if it means getting me and Doc out of here. No mercy.”

A chill runs down my spine and I shake my head. “I’m not on board with no mercy, Nada.”

She doesn’t look at me. “Get on board,” she says, throwing her shoulders back. “You think any of this lot will show us mercy because we’re small?”

I look at Mister and know she’s right. Most of them won’t stop until we’re put down for good. “Still, though,” I say, shaking my head, “doesn’t make it right, hurting people for sport. Someone died today, Nada.”

Nada bristles. “I thought you were in this with me.”

“I am but—”

“What if I take you?”

I turn to Nada. “What?”

She looks up at me, eyes fierce. “What if I take you with me instead of Doc? If I win, you go free and not Doc.” She stares into my face.

“Geez, Nada, I don’t… Doc would be crushed.”

“Doc does fine here. He’s protected. He doesn’t understand what it’s like for the rest of us.” She looks away for a moment and then back at me. “What do you say? We win together?”

I shake my head. “I can’t make the same promise. If I win, there’s someone I have to take with me.”

Nada sniffs. “Let’s get through this round and then we’ll see who you’re loyal to.”

I open my mouth to respond, but the first pair is lead into the sunlight. Pressing my lips shut, I try to control my panic. Whatever we’re headed into, it’s going to be ugly.

I think of Clay. Of Ethan’s sweet smile.

We walk through the compound and out the main gate, which yawns open for the first time since they brought in the new recruits. Since I entered the compound with a bag on my head, I’ve never seen the landscape outside of the compound. We step around the wall and I try to take it all in.

The remains of a town crouch around the compound like a bruise around an eye. Broken houses sit off in the distance, whole suburbs falling to rot. But where we’re headed is an industrial center, full of crumbling warehouses and cracked parking lots, ringed with wire fencing and scraggly plants. We walk down a broken blacktop street, the yellow and white lines faded, the cracks sprouting tough desert plants as tall as children. We pass an old gas station with a sunken roof and shattered windows and a pizza place called Louie’s, burned and gutted into a blackened shell. Down the road on either side, two and three-story concrete buildings rise up, towering over the road like mountainous ruins. Shadows lurk inside buildings, hiding any number of animals or even human vagrants. Beside me, Nada scans left and right, taking everything in with calculating eyes. I try to do the same, counting my steps, noticing exits. Seven large warehouses run down either side of the street.

And then there’s the game.

Ahead, Merek and some of his crew sit on grumbling four-wheelers. Guards with guns flank the road. With the warehouses on either side I feel trapped, hemmed in on both sides by tall walls of broken, graffiti-covered concrete. I chew my lip and try not to panic.

We stagger up to the four-wheelers and the announcer, who seems particularly pleased with himself. He smiles as we circle around him.

Four pairs of benders zip-tied together. Four sets of victims.

“My Lord and Lady,” he says, nodding to them, “we are ready to begin the second of Lord Merek’s birthday games, and this one, sir, is going to be very exciting.” He smiles at Lord Merek.

The lord smiles dryly and goes back to a syrupy conversation with a very young lady on the back of his four-wheeler. Another of his wives? She wears pink silk and looks out of place in a sea of men and benders in dirty leather, cotton, and denim.

The announcer’s smile wilts a little at Merek’s lack of attention. “This game will test speed and skill. The winners will be the first two teams to cross the finish line at the end of the street.” He points to the end of the still-standing warehouses about a quarter mile down the road.

A tandem foot race? That’s it?

He takes a deep breath and opens his hands wide. “Now, I know you’re thinking that sounds too simple.” He flicks a glance at Lord Merek, who frowns. “Bear with me.” He walks up and hands Lord Merek a crossbow and my heart begins to patter. “In Medieval times, kings would often go out with a hunting party. Clever little foxes or deer,” he glances at us, “would be tracked down in the wild. While we don’t have a forest, we have abundant hiding spots.” He nods at the warehouses on either side. “If you reach the finish line, you’re safe. If our good lord spots you on this side of the line, well…” He looks over at Lord Merek, who has a giant smile spreading across his face as he pulls the wire back on the crossbow.

We’re the prey. Sweat begins to pool under my arms as I study the warehouses. There are three on this side and three on the other between here and the finish line. We’ll have to slink through warehouses, hiding and avoiding getting shot by Merek, to get to the other side. What would a crossbow feel like piercing your chest? I shiver and try not to panic. There’s only one of him and we’re quick and small. Mister is at a disadvantage in this game.

The announcer speaks, breaking into my thoughts. “And just to add to the thrill, inside each warehouse are special
surprises
, so be on the alert my little foxes.” He winks.

An angry heat boils in my chest. The announcer takes pleasure at our misery.

“Remember, teams, you may not cross the finish line without your teammate. If something happens to one of you, it happens to both. You have two minutes to prepare yourselves.”

I turn to Nada, who’s scanning the warehouses, her face tight with thought.

“What’s our plan?” I ask, trying to shake some of the nerves out of my legs.

She points to the row of warehouses on the right. “We enter there,” she says, pointing to a dark mouth that must’ve been a delivery entrance.

“Why there?” I ask.

“Because”—she whispers in my ear—“the announcer’s been looking to the left, smiling. If he has a major surprise set up, I’m betting it’s on the left.”

“Smart.” Nada’s route looks more decayed and more dangerous. The other teams seem to be studying the route on the left. I smile as we wait for the signal. Nada
is
a good teammate. If she helps me get out of this game alive, it’ll be hard not to take her with me.

A gunshot jars me out of my thoughts. Nada springs forward, tugging me along at our bound wrist. We run toward the open garage door as Merek lifts his crossbow to his shoulder.