Arena Three

Jack breaks away from us and rushes up to the other dogs, barking excitedly. His presence alerts the group to our approach. Heads begin to turn in our direction, taking in the sight of Ryan leading two strangers toward them. I can’t help but feel like I’m being scrutinized, sized up, and I try to calm my racing heart. After all, this is nothing compared to the leering eyes of the biovictim spectators in the arenas.

Ben doesn’t seem to be faring as well as me, though. As we get closer to the group, I can see his face becoming paler. He’s not ready for this at all. Being with strangers, packing weaponry—it’s all too much for him, like being back in an arena. I don’t get a chance to tell him to turn around and go home, though, because we’re suddenly at the entrance. Ryan’s clapping people on the back, reeling out names that fly in one ear and out the other. The only one that sticks is Molly, because the girl it belongs to has shockingly ginger hair.

She looks over at me.

“You’re living with Neena, right?” she asks with a friendly grin. She looks about my age, with bright green eyes and freckles across her nose.

I nod, a little overwhelmed by all the names and faces.

“Me too,” she replies. “I guess that makes us roomies.”

Roomies. The word seems alien to me, like it’s a term that belonged to an old, ancient world that I thought had ceased to exist. Not for the first time since arriving here, a wave of happiness washes over me. I have a feeling she might become a friend. Friend. A word I had never thought to use again.

The group begins to move and we follow, sticking close to Ryan and Molly. We pass through several layers of fencing, guards stationed at the gates of each one. The amount of security they have here is crazy, but I understand their need to be so heavy-handed. The only way to keep the people inside Fort Noix safe is by making it impenetrable to all the monsters lurking outside.

Between one row of fencing and the next, nestled in the trees, I see a row of wooden cabins.

“Do you guys stay in those overnight?” I ask Molly.

She shakes her head. “No, people live in them.”

“Really?”

Before Molly has a chance to reply, Ryan speaks up, practically salivating at the opportunity to impart his wisdom.

“We call them the Forest Dwellers,” he says. “They’re sort of a part of Fort Noix but not at the same time.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Well, not everyone wants to live by military command. They want to structure their lives differently. They want to have families, homes, pets, that sort of thing. You know, the whole men and women being separated thing isn’t so great for that.” He smiles and wiggles a knowing eyebrow. I blush and avert my gaze as he continues. “Anyway, they’ve all taken the pledge to keep the fort secret, so they’re pretty much a part of us really, especially as they are within our perimeter. They’re just not on the same job rotation system—and they don’t get rations.”

Just then I notice a barefoot young girl sitting on the wooden doorstep of one of the cabins. In her lap sits a huge rabbit with light brown fluffy fur, which she strokes gently. As we pass, she looks up and waves. I wave back. She must take it as an invitation to come over, because she places the rabbit on the ground, leaps to her feet, and bounds over. Her patchwork dress swishes as she skips toward us, and her blond ponytail bobs.

“Oh, here we go,” Molly says under her breath while rolling her eyes, giving me the distinct impression that she’s not much of a maternal type.

“Trixie,” Ryan says in a gentle warning tone as she draws up beside him. “You know you can’t come on patrols with us. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I just wanted to say hello to the new people,” the little girl says breezily.

She’s absolutely adorable. I can hardly believe that such a smiley, carefree child can exist in our brutal world.

“I’m Brooke,” I say to Trixie. “And this is Ben.”

I look around for my companion, realizing he’d been so quiet I’d completely forgotten about him. The whole time that I’ve been chatting with Molly and Ryan he’s been silent, just taking it all in. As I look at him now, I can see how distracted he seems, looking over his shoulder, flinching at every noise. My worry for him magnifies.

“Do you want to come to my house to play?” Trixie says to me, breaking through my thoughts.

Her sweetness and innocence warms my heart. She can’t have seen any of the atrocities of the war, or have the constant terror of being kidnapped by slaverunners at the back of her mind. She’s carefree, just as a child ought to be.

“I’d love to,” I say, “but I’m on guard duty. It’s my job to protect you.”

Trixie beams up at me. “Well then maybe another day,” she says. “My mom will make you soup if you like. Dad made a Scrabble board out of wood. Do you like Scrabble? My sister’s better than me at it but it’s still my favorite game.”

The thought of hanging out with a family playing games and eating soup seems like a dream come true.