Arena Three

Smoke is starting to thicken in the tunnel as more and more coal starts to smolder. It’s thick, making it difficult to breathe. The kids start coughing.

“We have to get out of here!” I yell.

“I can see a ladder!” Zeke shouts from up ahead.

We all hurry toward him and see a rusty, half falling apart metal ladder screwed into the wall, leading up to a round metal cover. It’s a manhole, presumably leading out to the streets of Toledo.

Zeke’s up it quicker than I can blink, slamming his shoulder into the cover at the top. It opens and cold evening air blasts us. He disappears out the top, then his face reappears.

“Come on!” Zeke cries, holding his hand down.

We pass up Charlie and Bree. Molly starts climbing, with Penelope under one arm. The ladder groans under her weight. The screws in the wall seem loose and they rattle with every step she makes.

“Brooke,” Ben says. “You’re the lightest, you should go next.”

I look from him to Ryan. I can’t go up knowing one of them will be last, that the ladder might not hold out for one of them and send the other plunging to his death. But I don’t get a choice, because Ryan suddenly sweeps me up in his arms and shoves me onto the first rung. He pushes from behind, and I have no choice but to climb.

I grab Zeke’s outstretched hand and he yanks me up into the street through the hole. The cold air shocks me after the stuffy, stinking, smoky tunnel. I start coughing, and Bree runs over, flinging her arms around me. But it’s not over yet. Ben and Ryan are still down there, down in that horrible, dark place.

Black, acrid smoke billows out the hole as I race over beside Zeke and stretch my hand down. Jack is shoved into my arms by Ryan. I heave him out and plop him down behind me. He runs over to Penelope and Bree for some much needed pampering.

Ben is next. I help pull him from the hole. He’s completely soot covered, his face streaked with black, looking like a miner emerging from the mines. But as he pops out the hole, the ladder screeches and disintegrates behind him.

“Ryan!” I scream, as twisted bits of metal fall down around him, clattering to the ground.

From the bottom of the hole, Ryan looks up at me, looking lost and terrified.

“Grab my hand!” I scream.

“No!” he shouts back. “I’m heavier than you. I’ll just pull you in.”

I turn to Zeke and Ben. “Hold my legs, I’m going in.”

I don’t give them a chance to protest. I fling myself forward into the hole and they grab me, pinning my legs against the asphalt. I’m hanging into the hole by my waist, stretching forward for Ryan. He’s still a good few feet below me.

“Jump!” I shout.

The smoke is so thick now it’s starting to obscure my view of him. For a second, I lose sight of him. My first fear is that he’s passed out.

“Ryan!” I scream. “RYAN!”

Suddenly, he reappears, making the smoke swirl around him. He’s got a crate. He coughs as he positions it on the ground, covering his face with his sleeve, then clambers onto it. It gives him just enough height to reach my hands. I grip him as hard as I can.

“Pull!” I shout at Zeke and Ben.

Molly comes over to help, and between the three of them, they heave me up with Ryan dangling from my arms. We get him through the hole then flop back against the ground. I take in a huge gasp of air, lying sprawled on my back, gazing up at the black sky.

My first instinct is to laugh. We made it. We’re alive. But when I turn to Ryan, expecting to see his cocky smile, instead I see that his eyes are closed. He’s not moving.

“No, no, no,” I say, dragging myself onto my knees and crawling over to him.

I rest my head on his chest. It’s not rising or falling. He’s not breathing.

Everyone begins to realize what’s happening. They crowd over, looking anxious and pale. The kids cling to each other, unable to look as I begin performing CPR on Ryan. Jack howls into the night, and Penelope joins in.

“Come on!” I shout as I pump down on Ryan’s chest.

He’s completely covered in black smoke. When I push my lips to his they taste of coal. I will Ryan to breathe again. He can’t leave me. Not now. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

Suddenly, Ryan takes a sharp intake of breath. He’s breathing again, but he’s still unconscious.

I sit back on my heels, feeling overwhelmed. What are we supposed to do now? We’re in the middle of the street, completely exposed. We don’t have the train anymore, and Ryan’s out cold.

“We need to find shelter,” Molly says, taking me by the arm and leading me to my feet. “In case there are any crazies left alive around here.”

 “Shelter where?” I cry, glancing around at the derelict buildings. None of them seem to offer adequate protection; they’re all falling apart.

Just then, I realize the dogs have disappeared. Once again, they’ve hurried off, sniffing the air, searching for danger on our behalf. Then from somewhere far away, Jack starts barking and Penelope joins in with her high-pitched yapping.

“I think the dogs might have found somewhere,” Molly replies. “Come on.”