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“No. There was nowhere to hunt. I’d scavenge.” Her features contort in revulsion, the memory potent still.

  “How’d you survive?” I’m almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “We barely did.” She shifts uncomfortably. “I was the only one who ventured out and left the basement. And even that was infrequent. I grabbed whatever I could. Anything remotely edible. A starved, half-dead or sick animal, rodents, spoiled food and garbage left behind by Urthmen.

  “Oh man,” I mumble. “That’s horrible.”

  “It was.” She swipes an errant lock of hair from her brow. “This place, this building we stayed in, it was falling apart. As a result, it was abandoned. Despite being dilapidated, it was still pretty impressive. It was so tall. A long time ago, it was called a skyscraper. At least that’s what Elise said.” A sad smile curls her lips at mention of the girl’s name. “Anyway, it was divided with long hallways and filled with rooms. There were more than thirty floors. We couldn’t explore them all. It wasn’t safe and we knew we couldn’t stay long.” She leans in close as she speaks, so close her breath fans my face. She pauses. Her eyes search mine briefly before dropping to my mouth. They return to my eyes once again. I’m nervous and excited, disappointed and elated at the same time. I have no idea what her thoughts were or why she looked at me as she did. All I know is every time she looks at me like that, every brush of her skin against mine, evokes what feels like a swarm of bees in my stomach, buzzing and humming frenetically.

  I force the feeling to subside, taking a deep breath first before I speak. “I understand.” I wait for her to continue.

  She clears her throat and scoots back a bit. “They must’ve seen me one night when I left the building and took to the streets in search of food because within a few hours of my return, a couple of Urthmen came. They were patrolling the area and came into the crumbling skyscraper.”

  My head begins to throb in time with my heart. I realize I’ve been holding my breath as I listened, picturing a gray world with broken structures that sag in disrepair and under the weight of a battered environment. Windows staring sightlessly as a species never intended to inhabit the land roams it, hunting everything in their path. A shiver ripples up my spine.

  “I guess rather than wasting time searching the whole building, they set fires to smoke us out. We’d thought the basement was safest. And it was for hiding. We were hidden and there were no windows. But we were also trapped. As soon as we smelled smoke, we knew we’d be incinerated if we stayed. We had to climb the other floors and get out. That’s how they caught us.”

  A small sound escapes from me. It’s unheeded, thankfully.

  “I don’t know how many fires they set. I remember waking, coughing and choking. We covered our mouths with the necklines of our shirts, crouching low to stay beneath the smoke.

  “We tried to stay low. But even still, the smoke burned our eyes and choked the air from our lungs.” She closes her eyes as if reliving it. Instinctively, I reach out and rub her shoulder. “With each floor we climbed, the smoke thickened. Conditions worsened,” she continues. “I remember thinking, ‘this is how I’m going to die. Not at the hands of the Urthmen who raided our village or hunted us, but from smoke inhalation’. It was pretty ironic. I was wrong, of course. Neither killed me. I was lucky.” She laughs. It’s a mirthless, bitter sound. After a few beats, she picks up her story. “We managed to make it up three floors without blacking out from all the smoke and from oxygen deprivation. The next level was ground level. We knew we had to be careful, that in all likelihood Urthmen would be there. But we didn’t have a choice.

  “Footsteps echoed. They were so loud they seemed to shake the whole building. Between the smoke and the disorientation caused by it, it was hard to tell whether Urthmen were upstairs, behind us or ahead of us.” Reyna rubs her temples. “I remember panicking. Not knowing what the heck to do. We decided to wait out the Urthmen, who were too dumb to leave the building and wait for us to come out to them.

  “I couldn’t see and lost the others. Sweat poured from my brow, stinging my eyes. I wiped it away in time to see two Urthmen. One had Jack by the ankle. He was dragging him. I heard Jack’s dagger clang to the floor beside me. The other had Jane pinned to the floor on her back. She kicked and twisted but the Urthman didn’t let go. I watched as he hefted his club high. Jane begged and pleaded. But he didn’t care. Not one bit. He hit her in the skull with his club.” Reyna squeezes her eyes shut as if to block the image from her mind. “She screamed and screamed. I can still hear it, the agonized cries still ring in my ears.” She cups her ears with both hands.

  “The Urthman who had Jack killed him quickly. Stabbed him straight through the heart. He died before Jane did. She held on long after he died. She clung to that kernel of fight. And screamed until her last breath was taken from her.”

  “Oh Reyna.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her close. I feel a shudder rack her body.

  She pulls away, her features partially hidden by her hair. “I don’t deserve your sympathy.”

  Her words shock me. “What?”

  “I was a coward. I could’ve helped.” Her voice quivers. “I waited too long. I let fear hold me.” A single tear trails down her cheek.

  “You weren’t a coward,” I tell her. “What could you have done?” I don’t wait for her to answer. “Nothing. If you’d have ran to help, you’d have been killed right along with them.”

  “The Urthmen were outnumbered,” she protests. “There were four of us and only two of them. I wouldn’t have been killed. And Jane and Jack wouldn’t have either.”

  “Reyna, please.” I cup her cheek in my hand and use my thumb to wipe away the tear. “All of you were weakened from the smoke. Who knows how things would’ve turned out? And it was too late by the time you saw what was happening.” I swallow hard and weigh my words carefully. “I’m so sorry your friends were killed. And I’m sorry for being selfish.”

  “Selfish?” She sniffles and regards me quizzically.

  I continue to stroke her cheekbone with my thumb. “I’m selfish.” I nod. “Because I’m glad you didn’t fight. I’m glad you lived.”

  She stares at me for a long time, her gaze unreadable before it hardens. “If the Urthmen could’ve helped it, I’d have died then and there.”

  I lower my hand, sensing tension in her and fearing she’s recoiling from me.

  “As soon as they saw me and Elise, one actually said to us, ‘Everything will be alright. We’ll let you go. We won’t hurt you.’ The other Urthman started laughing. The joke was apparently highly amusing. To them. They hadn’t watched their friends die. Bludgeoned to death in one case and stabbed in the chest in the other…

  “Their laughter did something to me, Lucas. Just like that.” She snaps her fingers on one hand. “The fear I’d felt gave way to a burning hatred that pulsed through my veins. I unsheathed my sword, gripping the hilt tightly, and resisted the urge to jump out and confront them. The smoke was thick. They still didn’t know exactly where I was, where Elise was, just that we were there. And I wasn’t about to give that up.

  “I crouched down and Elise was hunkered down beside me, hiding in the smoke and paralyzed by fear. We sat there. She clutched me and I clutched my sword. The Urthman footsteps thudded closer and closer until they were so close that dust and debris from their boots kicked up. They knew we were near. They stopped right beside us, looking around. They didn’t realize how close I was.

  “I closed my eyes and rammed my blade up into him. I didn’t see him but I felt him. Impaled. I heard the sound. It sounded like old rags tearing as steel went through his torso and suddenly he was on top of me. I was pinned to the ground.

  “I was shocked. Covered in blood and unable to move. I couldn’t free myself. The hilt of my sword was digging into my gut and his full weight was flattening me. Warmth gushed from him, his blood pouring all around me. Elise screamed, alerting the other Urthman to us.

  “Elise was frozen. I yel
led at her to run. To pick up Jack’s dagger, which was nearby. To do something. Anything. But she was gone. All the death and gore she’d seen sent her to some prison of oblivion in her mind. I couldn’t free her. Not at that moment. I was too worried the Urthman with the club would pound the life out of her.

  “With every ounce of strength I had, I pushed my palms forward, shoving the dead Urthman’s chest and letting go of my sword long enough to roll out from under him. I yanked my blade free from his body. I jumped to my feet and didn’t think. The other Urthman was leaning over, reaching for Elise. I lifted my weapon and swung. The blade sliced through his neck but stopped when it hit bone.

  “The Urthman shouted and cursed. The sound was wet and garbled. But I didn’t stop. I pulled the blade free. I swung the sword a second time. But did it harder. The blade sliced straight through his neck this time. It hit the cement floor. The Urthman’s head tumbled to the floor, rolling.

  “Elise was beyond help. She wouldn’t stop screaming. I knew more were coming. I grabbed her by her arm and yanked her up. She half-walked and I half dragged her down the hallway.”

  Reyna closes her eyes again. She shakes her head. “I tried, Lucas. I tried so hard to get us out of there. But Elise…Elise’s legs gave out. She was too heavy to carry.” When she opens them, tears well in her eyes, spilling over her lower lashes and streaking down her cheeks. “It wasn’t her fault. I should’ve tried harder.”

  “How could you? You couldn’t have carried her—” I start but Reyna speaks over me.

  “I should’ve tried. Anyway, Elise wouldn’t have been in the state, frozen like she was, if I’d have acted instead of freezing like a coward.” She speaks through clenched teeth, her words so tight and fraught with pain.

  “Reyna,” I say gently. “You were trying to save yourself. The hall was shrouded in smoke. You couldn’t see your friends and you couldn’t see the Urthmen approach until it was too late.”

  “But—”She starts to protest but I hold up a hand and stop her.

  “But nothing. All of you would be dead.”

  “All of them are dead. Jane. Jack. Elise. They’re all dead.” The pain and guilt in her tone is palpable.

  “You’re not. And while you may feel it’s wrong that you’re alive, I disagree. Your friends would want you to live. They’d be so happy and proud to see that you escaped the arena and survived so much, wouldn’t they?”

  “I don’t know.’ She offers a noncommittal shrug.

  “Trust me, they would be.” I say firmly.

  “I don’t know.” She shakes her head then resumes her story. “When I stopped with Elise in the hallway, I set her down. I tried to talk to her, tell her we had to get out of there, but she’d changed. What she saw changed her.” Reyna closes her eyes. More tears slip down her cheeks. When she opens them, her gaze is focused on her lap. “Elise was lost. She stopped speaking. She just sat, a blank expression on her face. She sank into silence, stillness. Numbness. She wouldn’t stand. She wouldn’t walk. She wouldn’t budge at all.

  “I hugged her tight, begging her to please, please just get up. I told her I couldn’t carry her. But she didn’t respond. Her eyes were glazed over.” Reyna’s voice is a strangled whisper, he words choked by the emotion welling up her throat. “What I did was unforgivable. I left her.” She slowly turns to face me. Eyes red rimmed so that her irises glow a shade of electric blue, she doesn’t bother to wipe the stream of tears flowing from her eyes. “I turned and ran.”

  Reyna’s arresting expression holds me captive. I’m unable to look away, even though my eyes burn with unshed tears.

  “I made it out of the building and ran. I ran and ran until I couldn’t run anymore. I collapsed at the edge of the woods, the very woods I’d fled not too long before that, and cried. I couldn’t sleep. All I could think of was Elise. But I must’ve because I remember opening my eyes to the sight of an Urthman face.”

  “Oh my gosh,” I mumble. Still, I’m incapable of looking away from her.

  “A whole group of Urthmen were there, surrounding me. They grabbed me immediately. They didn’t hurt me. Not right away, at least. They had other plans: the arena. They loaded me into a truck and brought me to the Urthman city. They locked me away until they wanted me to fight.”

  Tears roll down Reyna’s face. I pull her close and hold her. She doesn’t resist. She collapses into me. I feel the pound of her heart against my chest, feel her breathing.

  “I left here there, Lucas. I left her there,” Reyna sobs.

  I can only imagine the guilt and regret she feels. I’d feel the same. But she did the only thing she could do: save herself. She didn’t have another option, which is easy for me to say. I didn’t live through it. I didn’t experience exactly what she experienced. I’m not haunted by it as she is. I’m haunted by my own demons. So I don’t say anything. In part because I don’t know what to say. Also because there really aren’t any words of comfort sufficient to soothe the pain she feels. Instead, I hold her tight, wordlessly trying to communicate my sorrow for all that she’s been through and share with her every ounce of calm I can muster.

  I hug her as I stare out the small back windows of the truck. A swath of navy rolls out infinitely in every direction. Dotted with pinpoints of glittering light, it’s a breathtaking sight, even from the floor of the vehicle, looking out a dirty window and inhaling fumes from the fuel. It’s a strange feeling to know we, as humans, are relentlessly hunted. We’re forced to make decisions—life and death decisions we can’t take back. And when we die, nothing changes. The stars still shine. Night will be followed by day. Seasons will change. The world will continue. Even if humanity falls to extinction. Life—other than the one we live—will go on.

  I hold Reyna a little tighter, inhaling her scent. Sweet clover and grass. And Reyna, a scent uniquely hers. She smells like happiness. She smells like home. It’s a warm and frightening feeling. Reyna has become home to me. As I hug her, breathing her in, I silently vow to protect her, just as I protect my brother and sister, with every last breath in my lungs. I will defend home.

  Chapter 8

  Days of travel have left me listless and unfocused. But it’s not boredom or the disuse of my muscles that’s left me feeling as I do. I can’t seem to concentrate. I, like everyone else, have taken a turn relieving Garan in the driver’s seat. But even driving hasn’t held my attention for long periods of time. Dehydration has left me feeling bleary, my thoughts fuzzy and unclear. I can’t remember the last time I had water. Though Garan knows where all the streams and rivers are and had us stop to drink, it was so long ago my mouth is dry and my throat feels like it’s lined with sandpaper. I’m tired and lethargic. Dried beef is all we’ve had to eat this whole time and have rationed it sparingly. I’m grateful for it, but at the same time, the thought of eating another piece makes me want to scream.

  “We’re about to enter hostile territory.” Garan’s announcement is a cold slap to my cheek. It lifts the haze shrouding me. “We need to refill the gas tank now.”

  “We’re close to Uganna territory?” I’m fairly certain that’s the hostile territory of which he speaks but ask to be sure.

  “Yes,” Garan nods solemnly.

  “I’ll do it. I’ll refill the tank now,” I volunteer. I start to stand then pause, turning to face him. “Will filling it once get us through?” I have no idea how vast this Uganna land is. But if it’s as bad as Garan has made it out to be then I’d imagine stopping to refuel again isn’t an option.

  “No,” Garan says flatly. “We’ll need to fill it again.” I stare at him, wondering how the heck that’ll be possible. As if reading my mind, he adds, “But we’ll have to pick a spot that feels safe.”

  “Is there a safe place in the Uganna territory?” My brow is low and my eyes are narrowed as I wait for his response.

  “Hopefully.” Garan shrugs. His one word answer inspires neither confidence nor hope.

  I close my eyes and shake my head. The s
ingle word repeats in my head several times, refusing to sink in. I open them. “Okay.”

  “Okay.” His eyes lock on mine briefly. They’re filled with determination. The exchange, though short, bolsters my spirit a bit. “I’m going to pull over up ahead right there.” He points to the side of the road. Ahead, the area surrounding the pavement grows dense. Trees and low-growing brush grow closer together. “Need a hand?” he asks.

  “Nah. But thank you. You rest. You’ve done the bulk of the driving. And it sounds like there’s a lot more to be done.” I point ahead to the stretch of road that seems to get swallowed by forest. “And it doesn’t look pleasant.” I purse my lips and can only imagine what it’ll be like. “I’ll ask Xan to help.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Garan nods. “Thanks, Lucas.”

  “No problem.” I hold on to the back of the seat as Garan directs the truck, veering to the right.

  As soon as the truck rumbles to a stop, I head down the center aisle. “Xan, can you give me a hand with a barrel? We need to refuel.”

  Xan is on his feet and behind me before I finish the second sentence. “No problem.”

  We step over the lip that separates the rear section for seating and the storage compartment. I open the back door then grip the handle on one side of the barrel. Together, Xan and I lower it to the ground then jump down. We carry it around the side of the truck and set it down. A small recess reveals a well with a capped opening, beyond which resides the fuel tank.

  “We’ll lift the barrel on three?” Xan twists off the cap and sets it on the floor.

  “Sure,” I reply. I grip my side of the vat. Xan does, too.

  “One, two, three,” he counts. On three we both lift the container off the ground and tip it so that the yellowish liquid pours into the reserve.

  Over the glugging sound of the gasoline leaving the metal drum, Xan sighs. “So this is the Uganna territory?” He scans the surrounding woods.

  “I think we’re just on the outskirts of it. About to enter.” I look around. The sun has set. The sky glows a rich, electric blue, lending the surrounding woods an ethereal quality. Trees, their bark blackened by the dim light of dusk, reach and bend with skeletal arms. A chill cools the air, leaching all the warmth from my body. Low fog has gathered, lingering and slinking like a spectral presence as it blurs and mutes all that it envelops.