Savage Run (14 page)

President Volkov wishes me good luck and
tells me to go sit back down again. On the way down the steps, I
trip, almost landing on my face. Now everyone will think I’m a
klutz, which I’m not usually, of course, just when I have thousands
of people watching me.

The ceremony continues and each of the
representatives of the hosting countries take the stand for a few
minutes, speaking of how privileged they are to be part of
something so grand. Even though the countries backing the Savage
Run don’t subscribe to our hierarchical society, they seem happy
enough to support it. And of course they can when they’re receiving
oil in exchange.

O. J. takes over from there. He says that
phase one is not about how fast one completes the obstacles. If you
survive it, you move onto phase two. If you quit, you’re sent back
home and if you die, well, no need explaining that.

“
But it gets harder,” O. J.
says. “To move on beyond phase two, participants must be in the
fastest fifty percent. The slowest fifty percent will be sent
packing. Everyone who completes the third phase and qualifies
according to Master standards will be granted Class-1 Master
citizenship. Of course he doesn’t mention what those qualifications
are, and I have a feeling I never will know. He continues, “No one
is allowed to kill or harm anyone.”

Strange. During the highlights, they showed
several participants who did exactly this.

“
Once the first phase is
completed, the survivors will be brought back to Trollheim, the
capital of Normark, for a benefit gala to raise funds for the
survivors of the Savage Run.” Then he goes over the penalties.
“Participants who veer off any course will be disqualified and
participants who start ahead of the clock will receive the severest
of penalties. Other warning signs and prompts will be given along
the way.”

Does this mean they’ll be imprisoned?
Killed? I sure don’t want to find out.

“
I wish you all the very
best, my friends, and may your strength last you all the way to the
end, and may honor and might be with you every step, every stroke
and every decision,” O. J. says. “Now the time has come for the
first obstacle course to begin. Registrars, remind your
participants about the short cuts. Participants say farewell to
your registrars and exit through these doors.” O. J. points behind
him to the right of the stage to the gigantic steel, double door.
“Registrars, please wait until your participants leave, and then
proceed to exit through the doors you came in.” The Savage Run
anthem blares through the speakers again.

“
You ready?” Arthor asks
me.

“
No,” I say. And I’m
not—not even close, but I still stand up. Mai comes over to
me.

“
Did Nicholas tell you?”
she asks, her eyes demanding.

“
Yes.”

“
Good. I’ll see you on the
other side.” She turns away from me, but not before I notice how
she closes her eyes and exhales.

Nicholas finishes saying farewell to the
others, and then he approaches me.

“
Remember what I told you,”
he says. “Just look for the shortcuts and safe zones; they’re
everywhere. But if you don’t find them, just keep moving. Not all
rounds have short cuts or safe zones.” He turns to the rest of the
participants from Culmination. “For the last jump, make sure you
jump feet first, no interlocking of the fingers, close your eyes
and plug your nose.” He hugs me like he did Arthor before me,
patting me on the back and whispers in my ear, “When you get back,
maybe we’ll see about that dancing.”

Suddenly my ears feel hot and I find myself
not wanting to let go. I don’t understand why. Maybe it’s because
he’s been kind to me or maybe it’s because I’ve started to feel
safe around him. And safety is what I need right now since I feel
like that little chickadee, fallen out of my nest, waiting for the
end. Waiting for the predator.

Except…there’s no one who will come and save
me. I’m completely and utterly alone in this. If I am to survive, I
have to save myself. I have to trust my every instinct.

Yet, unlike the bird, I
have the ability to get up and run. And I’m the one charging
toward
the predator,
hunting it down, challenging it to do its worst

Chapter 11

I step onto the Savage Run bus with Arthor,
making sure Johnny is nowhere in sight. Making my way to the back
of the bus, I inhale. The hot air sticks to the insides of my
nostrils, and it reeks of sweat and exhaust fumes. Most of the
participants appear clean, but after sitting through the Opening
Ceremony, watching how others were slaughtered—and how they’re
likely to be slaughtered, too—undoubtedly, most of them have
produced buckets of perspiration.

Arthor finds us an empty row in the back and
we sit down. “Stay with me and you’ll be safe,” he whispers.

He wants us to run together so he can
protect me. I want to tell him I’ll be safe no matter what during
the marathon; I don’t weigh enough to make the landmines go off.
But if I tell him, he’d probably only get upset due to my huge
advantage. How do I explain that I don’t want to be around him if
he sets a landmine off? I know it’s a horrible thing to think, but
I need to stay alive.

Twenty or so minutes later, the bus drops us
off by an underground autobahn—a thermal-protected titanium capsule
that moves through a tunnel with the assistance of vacuum. Cramming
into a twelve-man capsule with Arthor, I get into my leather seat
and strap on the five-point harness. I’ve heard that riding in a
capsule in the autobahn feels like being ejected into space in a
rocket. Obviously, I’ve never been ejected into space, so I don’t
really have anything to compare it to. All I know is that this is
probably the easiest part of the Savage Run, and I can’t understand
why my insides turn to liquid.

“
Doors closing,” a female
voice says over the speakers. The capsule starts to vibrate and
hum. “Prepare for departure,” the female voice says.

The moment the capsule takes off, it’s as if
I’m falling from the sky. My stomach does a series of summersaults
and my brain feels like it’s whirling inside my head. I close my
eyes. My hand is getting used to not reaching for my locket. My
head spins for a moment longer before it finally stabilizes enough
to where I can open my eyes. I look over at the other guys in the
capsule and their faces appear just as relaxed as before we took
off.

“
Have you ridden in one of
these before?” I ask Arthor, who also seems unaffected.

“
No, but Tristan wrote to
me and told me how much he would love it if I could experience it
someday,” Arthor says.

The boy sitting on the other side of me
groans loudly and hurls into a bag. He’s a lot smaller than some
participants—maybe just a little larger than Arthor’s size, which
makes me think that he’s a Laborer, too.

“
Come on, man. That’s
gross!” One of the guys says.

“
I can’t help it if I get
motion sickness,” the boy defends himself.

“
I never get motion sick,
but I do get nauseous when I’m nervous…or afraid,” I say, trying to
help him feel better.

He reaches out his hand. “I’m Clark, pleased
to meet you Joseph.”

He must remember me from the embarrassing
moment when President Volkov had me come up on stage. I lift my
hand and wave, pretending the reach is too far. Does he really
expect me to shake his hand that has slime on it? “So is this your
first obstacle course?” I ask.

“
I’ve completed three other
national obstacle runs, but they were much shorter than this one.
You?” Clark says, wiping some leftover saliva onto his
sleeve.

I force myself not to squirm in my seat. “I
have to admit that this is my first one.”

His right eyebrow rises. “President Volkov
is right. You are brave.”

“
Or stupid,” I
mumble.

Arthor nudges me. “Brave.”

I hear a guy snickering at the end of the
capsule, and when I look at him, he’s staring at me. Obviously he
disagrees with the last comment. Then it dawns on me: maybe he
suspects I’m a girl? My eyes scan the capsule and as I look at each
person, they look away. They’re all gawking at me. Do they know? I
forgot about how I had wrapped my chest and I briefly look down,
just to make sure the gauze hasn’t moved out of place, which it
hasn’t. My chest it still as flat as a board.

As the capsule projects forward, there’s not
much as far as a conversation goes. Although I’m not tired, I close
my eyes, pretending to be sleeping in order to ignore all the
questioning faces and prying eyes.

It seems like forever, but finally, after a
forty-five minute ride, the female announcer says, “Approaching the
country of Normark.” The capsule slows gradually until it eases
into a complete stop. “Please disembark with caution and welcome to
the land of the midnight sun.”

Exiting the capsule, I file out into a white
underground tunnel and follow the flashing arrows that point to the
left. When I get on the revolving stairs, they’re already packed
with hundreds of young men. I feel like a piece of krill in the
midst of whales, just hoping to go unnoticed. There are no visible
lamps in the tunnel, but the walls themselves give off light,
making it easy to see everyone’s tense faces.

Once at the top, I exit the tunnel and
continue to follow the hordes of teenage boys making their way over
to the start line.

When I notice that Arthor is nowhere to be
seen, my chest tightens. I don’t want to run with him, but I’m not
prepared to be separated yet, either. I turn around and scan the
masses. The current of participants continues onward, one
participant after another shoving me backward as their shoulders
collide with mine. When I see Johnny approaching, I quickly swivel
around. Arthor probably thought that it was best for us to run
separately, too. Losing each other in the crowd is the best way to
avoid any awkward conversations.

Moments later, I arrive at the start line—a
red tape strung from one post to another, roughly the length of the
aircraft that brought me to Volkov Village. Ahead of me is a wide
dirt path and on either side of the path stands a ridge of
mountains that continue into the distance, far beyond what I can
see.

The sky is overcast and gray—perfect for
running a marathon—and the mountains remind me of the ones that
enclose Culmination, specifically the very one’s by Master
Douglas’s mansion. They also remind me of Gemma, and in an instant,
my chest feels like it’s going to collapse. If I had turned back
for her she might be here with me now instead of buried in some
unnamed grave outside Culmination. It was a spineless choice; I was
such a coward. I deserted her and left her in the hands of a
monster who had no intention of letting her live. I close my eyes
and dig my fingernails into my palms.

No, I can’t think like that!

In reality, she probably would have been a
huge burden. It’s not like she would have been able to handle these
obstacles, and I was an idiot to think so in the first place when I
came up with my plan. Gemma was always the dainty, feminine one,
the one who would get hurt and complain if things became too
difficult. It’s best this way so that I can focus on saving my own
skin and not have to look out for her. I take a deep breath and
brush a tear from my cheek. I’m such a liar.

“
There you are.”

I open my eyes and turn around. “Oh…I
thought I lost you,” I say flatly when I see Arthor.

“
Never. We’ll run together,
okay?”

I haven’t had time to come up with the right
words to say about how I think we should run separately. “I…uh…we
shouldn’t…don’t you think…”

“
Don’t worry. I’ll help
you.”

“
No, I…” Someone shoves me
from the ground so I fall forward onto my hands and
knees.

“
That’s where you belong,
Imp.”

“
Leave him alone, Johnny,”
Arthor says, shoving Johnny backward.

Another guy steps in between them. I
recognize him from our group. He’s the tall, blonde one. “Dude,
totally not worth it. Johnny, if you continue, you’ll have two to
fight against.”

“
Yeah, sure,” Johnny says.
A Unifer walks by and Johnny moves farther down the
line.

“
Thanks, Timothy,” Arthor
says. They clasp hands and bump their chests together. “Good luck
out there.”

“
Yeah, you too man. See you
Joseph.”

“
Yeah.” I stand up and
brush the dirt off my pants and palms. Maybe I can wait just a tad
before I separate from Arthor. We line up with the other
participants and my pulse accelerates. I wonder if any of the guys
here are nervous, or if any of them think they’ll make it, or if
the ones who will die somehow know. I certainly can’t tell if it
will be me who will lose my life today.

I see Clark at the end of the line and his
face is like a stone. Above his head is a large electronic clock,
presenting the countdown in red numbers and it shows we have thirty
seconds to go. I wipe my sweaty hands on my pants. For every second
that passes, the tension grows thicker and I can feel the other
participants’ nervous energy like it’s a part of me.

Then, from the corner of my
eye, I see one of the young men slip underneath the red tape and
sprint out onto the pathway. Does he actually think they’ll let him
get a head start? Wasn’t he listening when O.J. said that there
would be
severe
penalties to anyone who did such a thing? Before long, the
young man stops running. He arches his back, and his hands flail
out from his sides. I hear no gunshots going off, but he’s moving
like he’s being pumped full of lead. He falls lifeless to the
ground. My hand cups my mouth, stifling a cry—the first casualty of
the Savage Run.