Arena Three

Ryan is the first to rush over. He races down the ladder, disappearing into the blackness. Molly gestures for Bree and Charlie to go next, ushering them in, then dropping down after them. Zeke is quick to follow.

Ben appears, his gun drawn and pointing at the door as he edges backward.

“Brooke, go,” he says. “I’ll cover you.”

But some sense of responsibility is stopping me from saving myself first. It would be like a captain abandoning a sinking ship.

“You first,” I cry out. “Come on.”

I grab him by the shirt and pull him toward the hole. Just as he starts descending, one of the windows smashes. I flinch at the noise and turn to see crazies climbing over one another in their haste to get to me.

“Brooke!” Ben screams up from the hole.

I clamber onto the ladder, pulling the heavy wooden trapdoor down with one hand and fumbling with my gun with the other. I get out four shots at the advancing crazies before disappearing into the hole and yanking the trapdoor firmly into place.

From below, the hands of my friends reach for me. I’m lifted clean off the ladder by Zeke and Ben, and set on the ground. Above us, the crazies pound on the trap door.

My heart beats wildly as I look around. Molly’s lit her flashlight and is shining it around, lighting up the place. We’re in a tunnel, stretching on as far as the eye can see. It seems like some kind of storage place, with wooden crates stacked haphazardly around. It’s made of brick and is dank, molded with mildew. It stinks of rat and death down here.

Though we have no idea where it is leading us, we have no choice to but to follow the tunnel. The crazies will get through the trapdoor sooner or later. Going forward is the only way to avoid certain death.

We run through the tunnel as fast as we can, our flashlights lighting the way, bouncing and making shadows dance all around us in a crazy flashing pattern. It’s like we’re in some kind of nightmare discotheque.

From the other end of the tunnel, the way we’d just come, we hear the sound of cracking wood, followed by thuds as the crazies drop through the trapdoor to the ground. Once again, the hunt is on. I can only pray that there isn’t more danger at the other end of this tunnel.

I can hear the crazies’ footsteps gaining on us. My whole body is tense, pumping with adrenaline. I don’t want to die down here in this dark, smelly tunnel.

As my feet pound against the cement floor, I feel something brush past my leg. My first instinct is a rat, but it was far too big for that. It’s then that I realize Jack is heading back the way we came, running straight for the crazies. Penelope is running right after him, eager to join the fight too. I turn my flashlight on them and see them both baring their fangs, aiming for the crazies’ throats. The sight is so gruesome it turns my stomach. I’m also terrified for their safety. They’re both so small and fragile in comparison to the crazies.

I fire off some rounds of ammunition to help out, but I know it’s not enough. If I want to stop the crazies from pursuing us, I’ll have to think of something drastic.

“Guys!” I shout ahead. “We need to create a blockade with the crates.”

“We can’t stop!” Zeke shouts back. “They’re too close.”

But I know we’re not going to make it if we keep running. We still can’t see the end of the tunnel. We don’t even know what’s at the end of it. It could be leading us to a brick wall for all we know.

Ignoring his warning, I start knocking the crates with my arm as I go. They tumble down to the ground, splintering and spilling their contents onto the floor. Coal. Stacks and stacks of it. Seeing it gives me my second burst of inspiration.

I keep knocking down the crates, hoping that the crazies will find it harder to reach us with the obstacles in the way. At the same time I rip a strip of cloth from my uniform, hold it between my teeth, and fumble in my bag for matches. Finally, I find them. I light the end of the fabric, stop, turn, and throw it into the strewn coal and splintered wood. The splinters act like kindling and the fire spreads quickly. But it’s too low. The heat might slow the crazies but it’s not enough to stop them.

Jack and Penelope dart toward us, sprinting past the fire and back to the group. They’ve managed to cause a lot of damage between them, but there are still crazies standing and they’re getting very close. I grab one of the crates and throw it with all my might at the fire.

The others finally realize what I’m doing. They all stop too, quickly building a waist-high barricade with spare crates. The fire catches, and at last we have a barrier. Some of the crazies run straight into it, setting themselves alight.

“Come on,” I say. “Let’s keep going.”

We leave the flaming barricade behind us and sprint along the tunnel. Jack is right by my heel and I’m so grateful for his bravery back there. He slowed the crazies down long enough for me to collect my thoughts and come up with a plan.