Arena Three

I push the thoughts from my mind and keep my gaze on the lip of the waterfall as we skim past it. I feel like every muscle in my body has tensed up and that I’ve turned to rock. I’ve never been at someone’s mercy like this. It’s almost unbearable. Usually when I’m in danger I know I can fight and get myself out of it. Now, I have nothing to do but hope and wish and pray we make it out the other side.

The end of the waterfall’s rim is just in sight.

And then a strange putt-putt-putt noise makes me frown. I look at Ryan. His expression instantly tells me it is bad news.

“The engine,” he says. “We’re running out of gas.”

As soon as he says it, the whirring of the propeller starts to slow. Instantly, the power of the waterfall can be felt beneath us. The boat starts to be pulled toward it by the force.

“ROW!” I scream. “EVERYONE! NOW!”

We grab the oars from beneath the seats and frantically begin rowing. My arms ache with the power of my movements. I grit my teeth with determination and put everything I’ve got into forcing the boat away from the waterfall’s edge. But despite all our strength, we continue to veer closer and closer to the rim.

There’s just five meters or so to push through before we clear the edge. The engine hasn’t died yet and Ryan’s able to keep it turning over, giving us just a fraction more power.

“Head for the shore!” I cry to Ryan.

With the combined efforts of all of us, and what little power we have left in the engine, we manage to just reach the shore.

I heave a sigh of relief, as do the others, all of us drenched.

The second we touch land, I leap off and extend my hand to Bree. She grabs it and I haul her up onto the solid land. I heave Charlie out next. Jack and Penelope leap up on their own, and Molly, Ben, and Zeke are able to heave themselves out of the boat and onto the land. Together we grab the ropes and hold on for dear life as Ryan makes the leap out and onto land.

“Now what?” Molly cries, fighting against the power of the boat.

“Now we pull the boat onto land,” I shout back.

She gives me a look like she’s less than thrilled, but she doesn’t argue. Zeke, Molly, Ben, Ryan, and I begin heaving with all our strength. After rowing for so long, my arm muscles scream in pain. But I keep pulling. Finally, we edge the boat out of the water and onto the strip of land.

I fall back, exhausted, aching, relieved. We’re still alive. I can hardly believe it.

“That was a close call,” I say to the gray, drizzly sky.

Ben’s face appears above me. “Come on,” he says, extending his hand to me.

I take it and let him pull me to my feet, overwhelmed once again by the mere sight of him. Ryan must notice the way I look at him because he shoots a glare my way. He’s probably thinking that he was the one who just saved all our lives, that he was the one who came with me in the first place, and yet here I am swooning over Ben, the boy who barely spoke to me for six months and let me head off alone. I know it’s not fair, but I don’t fully understand my feelings toward either of them.

Zeke pulls out the map the Commander gave us.

“We should walk the boat to Lake Erie,” he says. “There’s three more waterfalls to get past in this part of the lake. We won’t have enough gas to power past them all.”

He’s right. Once in Lake Erie, we’ll be able to sail all the way to Toledo, but we won’t have the strength to pass any more rapids.

Despite our complete exhaustion, no one is prepared to take a break, especially when we’re on land and completely exposed. We all feel much more comfortable on the water where the chances of crazy and slaverunner attacks are closer to nil. Plus, we’re nearing Buffalo, which was a densely populated city before the war. If there’s going to be any slaverunner activity in these parts, that’s where we’re likely to find it.

We trudge along the road, weary, shivering, soaked to the bone. A rest would be welcome around about now, but we have to keep going. Apart from the kids, we all take it in turns carrying the boat. It’s heavy, and what with our muscles already aching, it starts to really slow us down.

After an hour of walking, I’m completely spent. I stumble, my legs giving out beneath me.

“We can’t stop here,” Zeke says. “Buffalo is just ahead.”

He nods toward the horizon, where a collection of skyscrapers and tall buildings make up the skyline. I drag myself to my feet and begin trudging along again. To make matters worse, my stomach feels completely hollow. We lost all of our provisions when the crazies stole our boat. We’re going to have to hunt sometime soon before we all collapse from exhaustion. But I keep telling myself “not yet.” Once we’ve made it past Buffalo and are back in the water, then I can start worrying about things like sleep and sustenance.