“You’ll win,” Kisa said with a relieved sigh.
A cough sounded behind us.
Viktor stepped closer, shock etched on his face, and said, “Raze, we’ve got to go. You’re needed in the cage.”
I pressed another kiss to Kisa’s lips, took her finger and ran it down my stomach. “There’ll be another tally here tonight… and then I’ll have you again. When you come to me.”
Kisa tried to smile, but I could see the nerves racking her body. I stepped back into the hallway and pounded down toward the tunnel, right into the crowd, men moving back to let me through. I had the cage in my sight, filled with bloodlust and the need to kill. I saw my opponent already circling the ring but paid no mind to him. My only concern was for Kisa… surviving for Kisa. Surviving to protect and care for Kisa.
I ran up the steps and got to the steel door.
“Let me in!” I bellowed, banging on the door. A guard came up behind me and released the lock, and I immediately bounded into the cage, clenching my fists.
Then I looked up…
And my stomach dropped.
362?
362 was tattooed on Goliath’s chest.
As the door slammed shut, my opponent looked up. I saw the recognition flash across his face. He stilled. I stilled. And the gun fired a shot, telling us the match had begun.
Neither of us moved, too busy staring at one another.
He was your friend… Kisa’s words from last night ran through my mind.
“Friend?”
“Yes, your friend. You spoke with him, spent time with him. Confided in him… Liked him?”
“I trained with him. He helped me adjust to life in the Gulag. Taught me how to block things out. We would never fight. We were the Gulag’s two best fighters. When the riot happened, he came down and freed me.”
My heart beat faster than ever as I stared at 362… Goliath? Kisa said he’d been my friend, and looking at him right now, sai in hand, for the first time ever in the cage, I couldn’t force my legs to move.
I couldn’t bring myself to fight…
*****
“818, come. We’ll do weights,” 362 called from the other side of the gym. I cautiously joined him at the bench press and stood behind to spot him as he lay on the bench.
“You’ll train with me. You’ve got what it takes to survive. Training with those sniffling fucks you were brought in with will get you killed. They’re weak. Scared… They don’t belong in the cage.”
“You’re not afraid of fighting against me?” I asked.
362 smirked. “I’m older. It won’t happen. And when you get older too, if you become a champion like me, they’ll never pit us against each other. They’d lose too much money if they did.”
I nodded and spotted his first press. “Then I’ll train with you.”
362 smirked and began lifting his weights as though they weighed nothing. “Stick with me, kid, and together we’ll get out of this hell alive.”
“Why me?” I asked.
362 stopped and looked up at me. “Because I can see you didn’t do what you were brought in here for. It’s all over your face, in your eyes. You’re innocent, like me, but you’re strong, can fight, can survive… like me. Most kids here will die within the first few weeks, if not, by the end of their first year. But us, we’ll survive.”
“You want to get out for revenge on the one that put you here,” I said knowingly, because I felt exactly the same way.
“I do. And I’m going to have that day, as will you. Train with me, spar with me, and we’ll both get our revenge.”
362 got back to his weights, and we trained together for years, until we became the champions he envisaged.
We survived to get our revenge.
*****
But now my revenge was blocked by my friend, my Gulag brother.
362 walked to the center of the cage, and my legs carried me forward too. My fists clenched, pointing the blades forward just in case he struck, but I could see in 362’s dark eyes that he wasn’t going to attack.
When we were face to face, his chest rose and fell rapidly, and he cursed under his breath. His face was pained, contorted.
“818,” he said quietly.
“362,” I said in return.
He lowered his head.
“This is your revenge? This is your path to the man who lied, who condemned you, who made you into one of us?”
I nodded. “And you?” I asked, beginning to hear the upheaval from the crowd, unease that we hadn’t started fighting.
“They caught me two hours away from the Gulag. I ran, but they caught me again. They’ve made me fight for them. Travel around the country, making me fight to the death. Then last night, I was sent here. To end the fighter who just stepped in the ring with me. I was told to make you suffer. To make it slow.”
I froze. “Durov,” I snarled.
362 narrowed his eyes. “The one who sent you to the Gulag?”
I didn’t reply. Hadn’t remembered the details yet, but Durov was responsible somehow.
Guards began to surround the cage, rifles at the ready. 362 moved closer still. “If I win tonight, I am to be freed. I will finally get my revenge.”
Closing my eyes, I understood what he was saying. We both wanted revenge. And only one of us was stepping out of this cage alive.
I opened my eyes, and 362 held out his hand. His face, for a brief moment, showed regret, and during that moment, I let slip a hint of compassion for my… friend.