Her eyes were full of sympathy, and she reached behind the Kid to pat my shoulder.
“Oh, no,” the Kid murmured, his black eyes wide. He reached up and covered his face with his hands, not wanting to watch.
“Kid?” I murmured unhappily. “You should watch. And learn. You’ll need to know how to win when it’s your turn to fight.”
Slowly the Kid uncovered his eyes. He was such a tough little guy, but prison was starting to break him down in a way that even a hard life in a mining cell hadn’t. Becca was right. We needed to leave—tonight.
Nate’s face was pale beneath the bright lights. He clenched his jaw as the huge guy started to circle him.
Suddenly Nate shot forward with a harsh cry of rage and walloped the guy in the jaw. If it had been anyone else, they’d have been out cold. As it was, the giant staggered but rallied immediately. He was enormous and powerful, but Nate was nimbler. The big guy had a longer reach, but Nate was faster.
But his opponent had more experience, and it wasn’t long before his glove exploded against Nate’s metal helmet. Nate’s head spun as the punch lifted him a couple inches in the air, and then his arms flailed as he crashed to the ground.
“Okay, not too bad,” I muttered to myself. “If he doesn’t have a concussion, he should be—”
Nate rolled onto his hands and knees, shaking his head. I wanted to scream, “Stay down, you moron!” but didn’t dare.
After that it was bad. Nate’s nose was bleeding, so every time he got hit, a thin stream of blood whipped against his opponent. He got in a couple of good hits, but the other guy just destroyed him, his punches seeming like the unstoppable motion of a robot. Nate went down twice more and twice more got up, because he was a stupid freaking goddamn idiot.
We heard his ribs crack even from where we were sitting. I covered my mouth, hoping I wouldn’t throw up. His lip got split. His metal helmet smashed against his forehead and opened a gash three inches long. Deep, ugly bruises—the kind that continue to worsen over days—were blooming all over him.
But it was the last thing that made me gasp, made me feel like I really would hurl. It was that last kick, the one the giant aimed right at Nate’s knee. The one that shattered the bone, bent his leg nauseatingly sideways, and made Nate topple onto the canvas like a stork. That was the one that got me.
Strepp came into the ring. Nate, his face white, his eyes glazed and unseeing as incomprehensible pain wracked his body, lay at her feet. Strepp grabbed the mic and said, “‘It is our choices… that show what we really are, far more than our abilities.’ A woman named J. K. Rowling said that. Think about that.” Then she left the ring with the hulking guard following her.
Rage boiled inside me and threatened to erupt as a shrieking howl. Nate’s leg was broken, his knee destroyed. He wouldn’t be escaping from here any time soon.
What kind of choice did that leave me now?
81
BECCA
GODDAMNIT. BY THE TIME WE got back to the cell, Cassie was shaking with fury.
“Tonight was the night!” she hissed at me after we’d been locked back in our room. The Kid, all by himself, was across from us. Nate was in the infirmary, of course—that
last kick had been brutal. He’d be lucky if he ever walked again.
“We were supposed to try to escape tonight! Now what?”
What do you mean, Now what? I thought, but said, “What are you thinking?”
She paced our small room, her fists clenched. “I think we still have to go,” she said, sounding tortured. “But how? Nate came here for me—for us! And now we’re supposed to leave him here to be killed? I can’t stand it!” She crumpled to her knees, her hands over her face, trying not to cry. I knelt next to her, putting my arm around her shoulders. This was my twin: we’d been comforting each other our whole lives.
“What do you want to do?” I asked, carefully. “I hate leaving Nate, too. But the longer we stay…”
“The more likely we’ll be killed,” Cassie said. “I know. But… shit!”
“Psst!” Startled, I jerked my head toward the sound. A familiar silhouette stood by our barred door. I jumped up.
“Why are you here?” I asked Tim, and he put his finger to his lips. Then he unlocked our door as quietly as possible, opening it just enough to let me through.
“What are you doing?” I whispered. “I won’t leave my sister!”
“You’ll be back in a minute,” Tim promised, and led me down the hall. Most of the rooms here weren’t occupied, and about halfway down the hall Tim ducked into one, pulling me in after him. We went to the far corner where it was completely dark and we were hidden.
“Listen,” Tim began softly, but I launched myself at him, slamming my mouth against his, holding him as tightly as I could. This, this was the only comfort I’d had in this hellhole, just this human touch, the warmth of his arms around me. I wanted to feel like a teenage girl with a crush on a boy, instead of a prisoner or a fighter or a rebel. I knew if we were caught we might both be killed; at any second an alarm might sound that meant the death of one of my friends, or some nameless kid, or my sister, or me. I didn’t care.