Arena (5 page)

“Why? Are you afraid Hannah or Lily will spit in your face?”

“Lily and Hannah do what I tell them.”

I scoffed. “Did you tell them to be a couple, too?”

“No. That was a serendipitous outcome. People love it.” He waved a hand at the window, as if the city represented the masses.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Well, you can forget it.”

“This isn't open to debate.”

“You're right, because I'm not doing it.”

“Let me put it this way.” He leaned forward and rested his arms on his desk. “Do it, or you're off the team.”

My mouth fell open. “You can't do that.”

“Actually, I can.”

“The team is so popular because of all of us,” I said. “You can't just kick me out. I have fans. They'll hate you.”

“Don't overestimate your value. You are replaceable. Two weeks, and you'd be forgotten.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. How could he do
this? I wasn't replaceable. I was loved. By everyone. I gave the people what they wanted. I put on a good show and acted my part. How could he think I was expendable?

“I thought you'd be more excited at the opportunity,” Clarence said, letting out a weighted sigh. “No woman has ever led a team in the VGL before. If you won the tournament, it could mean worldwide recognition. Maybe even the eSports Hall of Fame.”

Holy S-H-I-T.

Worldwide recognition? The Hall of Fame?

I went numb all over—except for my heart, which fluttered. I'd be set for life. I wouldn't even need to compete for money or sponsorships. They'd be handed to me. Not that I'd ever quit competing. Well, maybe when I got old.

You know, like thirty.

“I take your silence to mean you're reconsidering?” Clarence asked, a smug tone laced in his voice.

I nodded, still spinning from the glory and flashing lights in my head. “I'll do it. I'll lead the team.”

“Good.” He pushed himself away from the desk and stood. “You're dismissed for now. I don't need you looking tired. Get back to your bunk.” He cleared his throat again. “Or Nathan's, since you seem to prefer it.”

My jaw clenched. I glared up at him, digging my nails into the arms of the chair. “Are you going to make that public, too?”

He shrugged. “If it becomes profitable.”

I drew deep, shaky breaths to calm my nerves, but heat still coursed through my veins. He knew what I was capable of. Why wasn't he afraid I'd cut off his head in his sleep? If this was the arena, if I had my sword . . .

Clarence stared down at me, unwavering, like he was looking through me. Like he could see my thoughts and knew they were wrong. Whatever. I swallowed the smart-ass remark creeping up my throat and pushed myself out of the chair. As I turned, the wall behind me buzzed and faded into a screen. A wall that wasn't really a wall, just mimicked the green walls and white border when it wasn't on. Artificial intelligence in all its glory.

A reporter popped up on the screen in front of a background of gray rubble and ash.

“. . . as you see behind me the devastation still left behind as thousands of drones and other robotic resources continue to be part of the cleanup effort . . .”

The caption at the bottom of the screen read:

DISASTER AT DIABLO 2053: ONE YEAR LATER

I don't know what genius decided to put a nuclear reactor near a fault line, but we'd learned the full stupidity of it last year. Apparently, power plants don't like earthquakes. Who knew? But since when did Clarence watch anything other than the VGL's home channel, let alone updates on the disaster cleanup efforts?

The channel changed abruptly.

The screen went black at first. Then the RAGE standings faded into view, featuring the double-elimination bracket used in standard championship play in any Virtual Gaming League event. Every team in the tournament was now divided into the winners' bracket or the losers' bracket. The layout reminded me of a lineage tree, except this one only expanded sideways. Our team, Defiance, sat in the losers' bracket.

The screen clicked off. I turned to find Clarence standing only inches away. A chill crawled up my spine, and my feet itched to take a step back. What a creep.

He leaned over me, head high as he looked down his nose. “Don't disappoint me.”

I stared into his eyes, black holes of endless depth. Like hopelessness, or death. Swallowing, I lowered my gaze to his chest and nodded.

“Good,” he said, tone surprisingly light. “I look forward to seeing what you're capable of. You're dismissed.”

I left, feet carrying me swiftly to the exit. When the beast says you can go, you run.

At the doorway, I paused. Next to it was a poster of me. An iridescent shimmer rolled through the LED display as the air-conditioning sent
tremors through the paper-thin screen. Unlike my teammates, I was posed fully clothed, my half-American, half-Chinese heritage emphasized through the outfit I wore. A traditional Chinese cheongsam dress in style—high collar, tight waist, and a long slit over one leg. But also Americanized—shimmering white and no pattern like the pods' cores. It cut several inches too low down the chest, only a pin's width wide, to reveal a hint of cleavage. A symbol of demure, deadly beauty. Tasteful. Acceptable. Desirable, even.

It's what they wanted.

I always gave the people what they wanted. Once I led the team to victory and became the first female captain to take a championship, Clarence would see I wasn't so expendable. None of us were.

Back at the bunks, I crawled into bed next to Nathan. He lay facedown in the center between two pillows. I glanced at him a few times, expecting him to stir or shift over from my movements. He didn't budge, so I snaked my body against his and toyed with my pendant as I debated with myself. I could tell him what was said in the meeting. Tell him I'd been appointed leader of the group. He'd have to listen to me, to my command. Did I want another fight right now? Another screaming match? Or a good night's sleep?

Tomorrow. I'd tell him tomorrow.

I nestled into my sliver of the mattress. The heat from Nathan's back kissed my skin, and I had to smile. Maybe things weren't really so bad. We'd lost once. Once. We were still in the tournament, and as Nathan had pointed out, ending up in the losers' bracket meant facing off against the weaker teams, making an easy ride to the top. To the championship. Where we'd win, and I'd be the first female captain in history to capture the title.

I wasn't just at top of my career. I was on top of the world. No, both worlds: the real and the virtual.

Funny thing about being on top: It's a long way down when you crash.

T
he alarm blared, short, annoying spats like a mechanical bird on steroids.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I groaned and waited for the slap of Nathan's hand against the snooze, same as every morning. Five seconds passed. Then ten.

I nudged him. “Nathan. The alarm.”

He didn't move. I nudged him again. Nothing.

“For Christ's sake.”

I smacked a hand against the bed, reached over him, and hit the digital clock built into the wall. Nathan slacked against me. I shook him.

“Come on. We have to get up.”

Nothing.

“Get up,” I shouted, pulling the covers back. He still didn't move. Lazy, fucking moron.

Then the deafening silence of the room closed around me. No alarm. No sound. No breaths but my own.

My pulse quickened. I grabbed his arm.

“Nathan?”

No response. I shook him again.

“Nathan. This isn't funny.”

I groped his neck for a pulse, and instead, met the cold clamminess of his skin.

I screamed.

I scrambled off the bed, hit the floor with a thud, and backpedaled until I bumped the wall. With a trembling hand, I reached up and felt along the wall until I hit the panic button next to the door controls. An alarm sounded, like an amplified version of the clock. The lights brightened, highlighting the horror in the room. My stomach sank through the floor, and my breaths came out in pants as I stared at Nathan's body. Lifeless. In the bed where I'd just slept.

Oh my God. This isn't happening. No, no, no.

A computerized female voice filled the room.

We are sending medical personnel to your location now. If this alarm was triggered in error, please deactivate it immediately.

No. Come.

Come now.

I hugged my legs to my chest and buried my face in my knees. I counted. One-two-three. Isn't this what children do when they're scared?

I forced my chin up. Nathan lay on his side, back to me, slumped, relaxed. He looked like he was sleeping. Something inside nudged me toward the bed. Go to him.

No. He was dead. He'd been so cold. I plastered myself against the wall and buried my face against my knees again.

Footsteps pounded down the hall, followed by rapid knocks on the door. A male voice came through the door. “EMS. Are you in need of medical assistance?”

I opened my mouth, but only rapid breaths passed through my lips. A heavy fist beat against the door again. “We will enter under medical authority unless you decline.”

There was another pause. Several soft beeps rang out, muffled by metal, as a code was entered into the keypad.

The female computerized voice spoke again.

Security override.

The door slid open. Two men entered, their footsteps clunking on the floor. One went to the bed. The other rushed to my side and knelt.

“Are you okay, ma'am?”

Ma'am? Why did he call me ma'am? These medical personnel were here to service us. Didn't they know my name? Didn't they know who I was?

Didn't they watch the tournaments?

I buried my head farther in the tent of my limbs and nodded feverishly against my knees. “I'm fine.”

“This one doesn't have a pulse. He's not breathing,” the one from the bed called out. The paramedic at my side hurried to him. Footsteps circled the bed. The men exchanged a few sharp whispers. Then it went quiet. Too quiet for too long.

The footsteps returned to me.

“Hey.” A hand gripped my shoulder and shook hard. “There's residue powder in his nostrils. What did he take?”

I pointed to the back corner of the room, keeping my head down.

“Top drawer.”

He left again, and I heard the drawer pull open, followed by a few sharp curse words and the sound of plastic crunching between fingers.

“Jesus,” one of them murmured. “Something that size would've held five grams.” Then louder, to me. “Was this full? Did he take it all?”

I pressed my face harder against my knees. One-two-three.

“Hey. Look. Up.”

The words rifled through the air, echoing off the bunk's walls. I lifted my head. Two men in blue medical uniforms stood in the far corner. They looked blurry, as if standing behind a panel of wet glass. Was I crying?

One held up an empty plastic baggie and shook it at me. “How much did he take?”

“All of it.” My voice came out in squeaks. The warrior, squeaking like a little mouse.

“Was it full?”

“Yes.”

I buried my head again as another barrage of swearwords spilled out of their mouths.

They started compressions. The bed shifted again as they worked around Nathan. Their breaths came out in pants. Just like me, they counted. At least theirs had a purpose.

Then the compressions and heavy breaths faded into silence. The bed stopped shifting.

“Forget it. There's nothing to bring back. He's cold.”

“Are we calling it then?”

Shuffling footsteps were the only answer to the question. At least, from what I heard. Then, new footsteps entered the room. Lighter. Hesitant.

“Kali?” A female voice, soft and sweet. Hannah's voice. “Oh my God. Are you okay?”

My stomach churned.

“I think I'm going to throw up.”

“Come on.”

Her long fingers wrapped around my arm. Strong hands gripped the other but felt too small to be a man's. Lily. Together, they carry-dragged me to the bathroom and set me down in front of the toilet just as the contents of the previous night came rushing back up. Lily held my hair back with one hand and rubbed circles against my back with the other. In the background, the faucet squeaked as Hannah turned the water on and doused a cloth beneath the stream.

Once my stomach retired, I rested my cheek against the side of the toilet, the coolness of it burning into my skin. Lily leaned over me and hit the button to flush. The whirlpool whisked the contents away. Too bad I couldn't do the same with the memory.

When had Nathan died? Was he still breathing when I got back to the room? I thought back, forcing my brain to sort through images and memories. Snippets flashed across my mind, blurring together. I entered the room. Then I crawled into bed. God, was he already dead? Did I sleep next to him all night like that?

My stomach lurched. I gagged, but nothing came up. Lily drew bigger circles on my back.

“I don't know which is worse,” I said. “Wondering if he was still alive
before I fell asleep, and I could have saved him, or that I slept next to a dead body all night.”

“Then don't think about it,” Hannah said as she patted my forehead with the damp cloth. The coolness of the fabric burned against my flushed skin. “It wouldn't have mattered. The paramedics said there's no way he could have survived. Not with the amount he took.”

Did they? I hadn't heard.

Someone pulled a brush through my hair. Lily, still at my back. The bristles massaged my scalp from forehead to neck and around my ears. I shut my eyes, focusing on that soothing sensation. Something silky brushed my shoulders and wrapped around my back. A robe. Hannah guided my arms through the holes and tied it shut around my waist. A tank top and underwear was all I'd been wearing when the paramedics arrived. Guess I'd been too shocked to even realize it.

Hannah continued to pat the cloth against my face, then lowered it to my neck. Lily brushed my hair. I'd never had many female friends. It never bothered me much before, but now I realized how much I'd missed out.

The cold edge of a cup pressed against my bottom lip.

“Drink,” Hannah said.

I gripped the cup while Hannah held it steady. Water poured past my lips and down my aching throat. I coughed, and my stomach gurgled, but the liquid stayed down. Pulling myself away from the toilet, I slumped against the closest wall, eyes still closed. I breathed. Wisps of air whispered through the slit in my mouth. Funny how you how become aware of your breaths in moments like these.

Hannah knelt close, and I caught the coconut scent of her shampoo.

“So. You two were, um . . .”

“Sleeping together?” I finished. “Yes.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Her tone sounded as if she wasn't surprised.

“You knew?” I asked.

“Well, with the way you two were always sneaking off, we kinda figured.”

Oh, great. So much for keeping it a secret.

I kept my head resting against the wall, gaze focused on the corner of the bathroom as I counted my breaths again. Hannah placed a hand on my arm. “Did you love him?”

“What? No. Not even close.”

What was she thinking? Warriors don't fall in love. Still, it didn't lessen the sickening sensation rolling over me. My stomach was a rock-lined cavern, that empty yet weighted feeling you get at the top of the roller coaster, just before the big drop. Now imagine never really coming down. Suspended animation. That was me. Right now. On the worst ride of my life.

I shook my head. Shock. I was just in shock. How could I care about someone I'd barely known outside of the team? No strings attached. That was the deal. No. I didn't feel this way because I cared. A warrior can't love. It wasn't part of my image. I felt this way because I woke up next to a dead body. Traumatized. That's all it was.

“Kali?”

Hannah shook my arm, snapping me back to reality. Why? Why did she have to? It was peaceful in the little black hole that was my mind. But the way she'd drawn my name out held a certain tone that only comes before someone makes an accusation. My stomach clenched, despite the boulder inside it.

“What?”

“How come you didn't stop Nathan from taking so much?”

“I didn't know.”

“Were you high, too?”

“No.” I shook my head against the wall and the movement reverberated in the metal. “I wasn't there. Clarence called me to his office for a meeting.”

“About what?”

“He appointed me team captain.”

Silence. A drop fell from the sink's faucet and splashed on the metal rim below. I opened my eyes. Hannah's expression was taut and her gaze flicked around the room as she processed my words. Lily's bow lips were pressed together in a tight line. Seconds passed. More silence. Another drop in the sink.

“Good choice,” Lily finally said.

I waved her off. “He just did it to make a truce between Nathan and Derek. He couldn't choose one or the other, so he picked me instead.”

My breath hitched. With Nathan gone, would I still lead the team? Derek was the obvious leader among those of us left. I'd be passed over for the position now. Hell, was there even a team to lead anymore? Holy shit. Did my career just die in that room along with Nathan? These games were my life, my everything. This wasn't happening.

This couldn't be happening.

My chest tightened and my breaths came in gasps. The walls closed in around me. My gasps turned to heaves. I had to get out of there. Had to get some air.

I pushed myself up against the wall. My knees wobbled but held. The girls hovered over me, Hannah in front and Lily behind. Both had their arms out as if to catch me from falling.

“You don't look so good. You should rest,” Hannah said, gripping my elbow. “We'll get you back to bed.”

I recoiled. “Where Nathan died?”

Hannah frowned at herself as she realized what she had offered. “Yeah, sorry. We'll get you back to your own bunk. Or you can stay with us.”

Lily nodded.

“No.” I pushed myself off the wall. Hannah and Lily mirrored my movements, arms still extended. “I need to get out of here. I need to get this out of my head.”

“Fine.” Hannah sighed. “You want a fix?”

“What? Nathan just died from an overdose. How could I, after that?”

“I know,” she said in a soothing tone. “It just seems like you need to escape for a little while. No one should have to deal with what you just went through.”

Escape. That was exactly what I needed. An escape.

“We have more than one way for that,” I said. “And it's better than anything you could get at the nightclubs.”

Sex, drugs, and alcohol. The staples of any rock star or celebrity. But
gamers had something more. Something no one else would ever understand. The greatest high. The biggest thrill.

The arena.

Hannah studied me through the slits of her eyes as she processed my words. Then her eyes went wide, and she gasped.

“You're gonna plug in? You can't go virtual now. Not in your state of mind. It's not safe.”

Watch me.

I stumbled out of the bathroom and started dressing, despite their protests. The EMS workers were gone, and had taken Nathan with them. What would happen to his body? Guess they'd transport it home to his parents. Did he have any family? We'd never talked about much besides the tournaments.

“I really don't think this is a good idea,” Hannah said again as she watched me pull my clothes on.

“I appreciate what you did for me just now, but I need this. Leave me alone.”

I staggered out the door and down the hall without looking back. They didn't object or follow as I headed for the virtual pod center.

So what if it wasn't healthy to plug in when I was so emotionally and physically drained? I needed this. To get away from everything. The night. The loss. My death in the digital world. Nathan's in this one. It all swirled together in my mind, virtual blending with reality, until I was certain about only one thing.

This was way too real.