Arena Three

The city looms up ahead of us. I get an unpleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach. But it’s not the feeling that tells me danger lurks nearby, it’s a different feeling. It’s the feeling of death. Of ruin. The entire city is empty, deserted. A once bustling metropolis has been left to decay because of a pointless war that killed its inhabitants.

Night is starting to fall, making stark shadows across the streets, turning the houses into skeletons. I shiver and draw my arms across my chest for protection.

“Looks like there’s nothing to worry about here,” Zeke says.

The abandoned city is good news. It means no slaverunners. But it makes me think dark, depressing, hopeless thoughts, and that is definitely not good. The sooner we get out of Buffalo the better.

“This way to get to the water,” Zeke says, pointing to the dog-eared map.

“Here,” I say, going up to Ryan. “I’ll take the boat for the next stretch.”

He swaps out with me. Then Ben comes over and swaps out with Molly. For the first time, Ben and I are walking together. We don’t say a word, we’ve never had much need to. Without him having to utter a single syllable, I can tell that the gesture was a symbolic one, one that says he won’t leave me again, that we’ll be walking side by side forevermore. The thought comforts me.

We get to the lake’s edge and nudge the boat into the water.

I heave a sigh of relief, completely spent.

“Lake Erie,” Zeke announces, like some kind of tour guide, as we begin to clamber on board. “Three hundred twenty miles to Toledo.”

My legs shake from fatigue as I clamber aboard. The kids practically fall asleep the second they hit the deck.

“We’ll need to take this in turns then,” I say. “Get some sleep in shifts. Ryan, why don’t you sleep first since you steered us through Niagara Falls and all?”

I’m expecting to see his cocky smile at my quip but he just looks at me with pained, haunted eyes. It occurs to me that the last twenty-four hours have probably been the most traumatic in his life. He’s become a shell of himself. But he nods, accepting my urging.

“Just twenty minutes,” he says. “Then wake me up.”

I agree, though I have no intention of waking him for at least two hours. Zeke decides he’ll take the first sleeping shift as well. Then I turn to Molly.

“Do you want to sleep on the first shift too?” I ask.

She looks from me to Ben with a curious look in her eye. I can tell she doesn’t think it’s a great idea for me and Ben to be left alone together, and I wonder if it’s because she doesn’t yet trust him or because she is suspicious of there being something between us and feels loyalty to Ryan. Whatever it is, she finally agrees to sleep.

Everyone apart from Ben and me curls up on the floor of the boat, leaving the two of us to set the sails and steer out into the expanse of water.

We head southwest, keeping the banks in our sight line at all times.

I look over at Ben. He looks stunning in the dawn light.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I tell him, speaking quietly so as not to wake anyone up. “I missed you.”

“We were only apart for a few hours,” he replies.

“That’s not what I mean.”

He looks down, embarrassed, as it dawns on him that I’m referring to our time in Fort Noix, and the way he cut me out of his life.

“Where did you go?” I ask him. “Why didn’t you speak to me for six months?”

He can hardly meet my eye. “I didn’t want you to know how weak I’d become.”

I frown. “And why would that matter to me? You’re my friend, Ben, I care for you no matter what.”

“That’s just it,” he replies. “I’m your friend. Your weak, sensitive friend. Rather than the sort of strong, confident guy who could one day become more than your friend.” His eyes skim over Ryan’s sleeping form.

“Are you telling me you ignored me for six months because you’re jealous of Ryan?” I’m almost too angry to speak.

“It’s not just Ryan,” Ben says. “It’s Logan too. The second we reached Fort Noix you never spoke of him again. Never even said his name. You were in love with him, weren’t you?” His eyes burn into me.

“I don’t know,” I say, squirming.

“Well, I do,” Ben says. “You were. And even after he died I still wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Ben,” I say, pained. It hurts to hear him talk like this, especially when it couldn’t be further from the truth. I do have feelings for Ben, I just don’t fully understand them.

“You have a type,” Ben adds. “Strong. Confident. Accomplished.”

“You’re all those things,” I reply, a little exasperated.

He just shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I know my place now, Brooke. Because you see, I tried to let you go and it didn’t work. I came running straight after you. My place is beside you. Whether you want me there or not.”

“I do want you there,” I say. “Always.”

Ben turns his face from me and looks out over the sparkling water. He doesn’t believe me and my heart deflates. I wish I was better with words, and that I could make him see how much it means to me that he’s here. But I don’t get the chance because Molly stirs.

“Brooke,” she whispers. “Why don’t I take this shift?”