12
Everyone in the Jeep says it after me, “I am alive.”
I hear those in the other surviving bus saying it too.
The tattoo gang with the Hoverboardz push the button on their iAms. They say “I am alive” in a tone suggesting they are confident and sarcastic, as if they’re used to all this killing. Who are they?
A number of voices from other places we don’t see say they’re alive too.
To tell the truth, screaming “I am alive” after such an experience is such an ecstatic feeling. I haven’t felt this sense of victory before. I guess this is what Roger This meant. We’re all teens trying to be adults. We still love to play. If we play and don’t think about dying, we might make it.
“That’s the spirit.” Timmy is pleased. “You are alive indeed.” He stops, his eyes closer to the screen, “But for how long, Monsteritas?”
“Yeah. For how long?” a fat boy yells from the audience, with a mouthful of junk food.
“But wait a minute,” says Timmy. “Someone didn’t say it.”
Immediately, I look at Leo. He looks back at me. I wonder what keeps him so tight-lipped. I reach for his face and try to force his lips open. He resists and pulls away. It’s like trying to squeeze juice from a stone.
“Come on, man,” a boy says from the Jeep. “You are the hero. Don’t give up on us. By the way, is Chuck Norris your uncle or something? Vin Diesel maybe?"
Leo is speechless. There is a glowing in the corner of his eyes, that golden shade I saw earlier. I want to tell them that he is not going to open up for whatever reason. Believe me. I have known him for about two hours, and it feels like we have known each other since middle school.
My heart sinks into my feet. Leo is going to explode, and I will have no time to survive because I am too near. I will blow up with him. The girls in the Jeep grab for the edges, ready to jump. What will they do then? Run on foot like those other fools?
The Hoverboardz gang starts slowing down. It is obvious that Leo is all muscle, and no brains.
“Well, you leave me no choice, mysterious hero.” Timmy is reaching for something, a button, most probably the one that will blow up Leo.
I grab Leo’s iAm and shout in it. “I am alive.”
This should work. We are treated as numbers, and we have no real identity, so his iAm is more important than he is. What difference does it make who says it?
“That’s cheating, you little Monster.” Timmy is looking at the screen, as if he is looking straight at me. He says the word Monster slowly and with pleasure. He knows who I am. He hates me. He would certainly enjoy blowing up Leo, a Nine. Timmy, the envious Trickster. What’s the difference between a Trickster and a so-called Monster?
“It doesn’t matter who says it,” a girl screams at Timmy from our Jeep. I look at the timer. We have wasted a minute with this conversation, and only Leo knows the rest of the plan. We need him.
Leo, you fool. You can’t die before I know what your story is.
“Sorry, Monsterina,” says Timmy, wearing a sad mask with plastic tears on it. “Goodbyeee.”
I have to do something, and I do. The craziest trick I would ever have imagined myself pulling. I don’t know if it will work, but I am counting on the viewers this time, not the Trickster.
I hold Leo’s face with both hands and kiss him on the mouth, not taking my lips off his.
Leo doesn’t do anything back with his sealed lips. Only manages to drive fifty-miles-per-hour, while we are about to die in sixty seconds.
“He is busy,” I claim in the iAm. “Can’t you see? He is my boyfriend,” I lie, and I get back to Leo’s lips. This boy is mine! “And if we die, we will die together. This is the kiss of death.” I know no one will believe that he is my boyfriend, but I can try. A Nine and a Seven? That’s never happened.
The viewers go crazy. They shout at Timmy not to push the button. “He is the hero,” some say. “You’re killing the game too fast,” others protest. “This is so romantic,” the girls say. Some girls actually scream Leo’s name from the Zeppelins outside the battlefields, wearing their ClairVos.
I don’t know if this is exactly what I have expected, or did I just want to kiss someone beautiful like Leo before I die? All I know is that this is TV, Faya's biggest hobby. And even though they will all want to watch monsters die, no one can resist romance. I remember my mother loving the blood in the previous game, and also crying when the slightest romantic thing happened. Blood and romance, the ultimate entertainment.
Timmy clears his throat in the microphone, feeling a little overruled by the audience.
“Sweet little Romeo and Juliet — I mean Leo and Monsteriette,” says Timmy, making a silly face with two black teardrops falling off his makeup. “May I pronounce you as Monster and wife — ah — I mean, the audience has voted for you, which rarely counts in the games. But why not, we are only in the beginning, and you will die either way.”
The audience celebrates the verdict. They even scream my name after Leo. They call me Pixie because I am small.
Audience tic. Audience tac. Audience toe.
I am not Pixie. I am Decca, goddammit! Decca Tenderstone.
I pull my lips away from Leo’s, which I secretly enjoyed, and his eyes look hypnotized. This strong boy, hypnotized by me? I am only wishing. “See,” I say to Him. “You’re not the only one famous here.”
The boys and girls in the Jeep let out a sigh. Down here, this is no lovey-dovey moment. Everyone knows it is a silly trick.
One minute left to termination.
I give Leo a slight slap on his face. “You better have a plan now.”
He gives me that angry look again. It’s like: How dare you kiss me while I am trying to save the world, driving fifty-miles-per-hour, with one hand on the wheel?
“I am afraid the love puppets and their friends have one minute left,” Timmy smiles again.
We are no love puppets. I hope you didn’t see this, Woo. It's not real. I'm coming for you.
“You should reset the timer,” a familiar voice from the audience requests.
It’s Ariadna.