“The feeling is mutual, and one of us is going down tonight!”
Lee’s voice echoed in his mind as he kicked the werewolf off the edge of the cliff with all the strength he could muster. The werewolf let out a howl, and it echoed into the night. Ryker’s heart was pounding as he stood an inch away from the fall.
He had just killed a fellow werebeing. Shouldn’t he have been thrilled that his life had been spared? Shouldn’t he have gotten used to the blood on his hands? The rain had washed most of the blood away from his face. He had taken a beating, and his nose was bleeding profusely, and there was a huge gash on his throat, missing a vein by an inch.
He knew he had a few fractures somewhere, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he would heal in a couple of days… which he didn’t have. He had to shift to heal faster, something he had avoided doing, but obviously, he couldn’t keep up with the human façade forever.
He shuddered, realizing the werebeing that fell could have been him. He had fought a werebeing without changing into one himself. He had done the unthinkable, fighting against a fully shifted werewolf. Had it been sheer guts? The adrenaline? That fine line between a werebear’s strength and his human DNA?
Ryker looked up to see a hovering camera, with a special light shining down on him, on them. He stared, his eyes glistening under night-mode, and it was displayed on every screen possible in the country. He looked back, beyond the crevice, and he could still hear the rushing water. Was he dead? Had he successfully killed the werewolf? Had he successfully killed Lee?
I shouldn’t even wait, Ryker thought. He turned and began to walk away, as quickly as he could. He had lost his boots along the way and knew he was in for a cold night. Any caves in sight were welcome, as long as no one was there. He needed to get better, and he needed to hide for that. If he faced another werebeing, it was sure defeat unless he shifted, and shifting was even more painful than a broken rib or two.
He stumbled as he walked, holding onto boulders and low lying branches, feeling his vision blur. This was not good. Blood loss from a wound, he knew. The werewolf had bitten him on the arm, hitting a major artery. He was going to bleed to death unless he placed a tourniquet on it. His shirt was still with him, he thought, and he found a large tree with large leaves, and took shelter underneath it.
With shivering hands, he tore his shirt apart, using his teeth as well. He felt cold, and although he couldn’t see the wound, he knew it was enough to kill him. Don’t go into shock, he told himself. Keep it together. It hadn’t been his first encounter with a werewolf, but it had been the first time he had been attacked by one. No empty threats were spoken; the wolf had gunned for his throat.
Ryker tried desperately to focus on making a tourniquet. His father had taught him this before, and he tapped into that old memory of his father and him practicing first aid, since his father had said, ‘First aid is vital if you’re alone and hurt.’
He was alone, and hurt, and in need of vital aid. Of course, no one would send him aid. They were at each other’s mercy; he was no longer the hunter. Whoever won was the hunter. He tried to stop the panic growing in him. It was too soon to panic. He had been alone before, as a child; he had been hunted and had been public enemy number one. This was supposed to be nothing new.
Gritting his teeth, he tightened the tourniquet and suppressed a cry. He closed his eyes, feeling blood spurt out as he tied it off. He was gasping now, trying to find some relief under the leaves, still bleeding (although lesser, this time), feeling his broken bones strain against his organs.
Run, Ryker, run! His mother’s voice echoed in his head as he faded into unconsciousness.
*
Alexia woke up with a start, gasping and surprisingly sweating as she did. She’d had a bad dream, one she couldn’t remember anymore. Was it morning already? She strained to find some light above the slits but could find none. She slowly looked at her hands, seeing the multiple injection marks and other injuries that were a result of the experimentations.
If there was one thing she learned, it was that werebeings healed when she gave her blood, but she didn’t heal too well on her own, at least not without the intervention of the facility staff. Those daily vitamins were needed at least thrice a day if the tests were considered strenuous.
She didn’t know what time it was but decided she would take a shower. She ached all over but knew she could still stand. Besides, she was hungry, which meant she was better. Slowly, she stood up. The past few days, she had been ignoring her books. She had stopped drawing. She had stopped conversing with everyone who came in and out of her room. They didn’t need her, not since the games started. They would need her again after the games. It was always the case, and she thought this was a vacation of sorts for her, inside the facility.
She spent the days oversleeping, stuck in dreams and nightmares. There was no hope, awake or asleep. Alexia was going to remain A129 for the rest of her life. She would never know family, never know trees or mountains or the feel of the sun on her skin.
Sliding into her bathtub, she felt the heat of the water enter the pores of her body. Dr. Delaney had insisted the bathtub remain in her room, telling superiors that soaking in a tub was therapeutic for test subjects. They relented in the end but grumbled at how it was a luxury for a test subject to even have one.
She was the only one who had survived to near adulthood, and in her mind, she wanted to tell them she deserved a bathtub and books. She didn’t, of course, even though punishments were rare and few for her outside of the testing rooms. Alexia had begun to fall asleep again when she heard someone call her name.
Her eyes quickly opened, and for a moment, she was afraid of who was there. It was only Dr. Delaney who called her Alexia. She calmed down after a while but refused to move from her bathtub. She was on vacation, isn’t this what people did? Ignore their work when it beckoned?
“Alexia,” Edith called again, “I’ll wait here until you’re done.”
Alexia sighed and finally stood up, grabbing a towel. She got out and tied her wet hair in a bun, placing a towel around her upper body.
“Would you like to see the games?” Edith asked her without asking how she was.
“Why? I’ve seen it before,” she responded carefully.
“You’d be interested to know that he hasn’t shifted yet, even though he was close to death earlier.”
Alexia knew exactly who Dr. Delaney was talking about. She froze in place. Then she regained her senses and took the towel off, naked and in full view of the doctor. She didn’t mind this; she had been so used to being partially clothed or fully naked for their tests, and she didn’t know it made others feel uncomfortable. She was still a nubile woman, after all.
Edith didn’t say anything. She merely waited for Alexia to put on her hospital shirt and pajamas, and she only had these in two colors, either white or pale blue. She had wanted to bring Alexia some clothes that normal girls her age wore, but she knew it was against protocol.
Alexia didn’t say anything, but she took a seat across Dr. Delaney who sat on the edge of her unmade bed. She didn’t look at her. Instead, she waited for Edith to say something.
“When you were in that room with him, did you say anything to him that made him not want to change?” Edith asked her.
Alexia looked up. “How can I say something when I was being electrocuted?”
“You weren’t electrocuted, Alexia,” Dr. Delaney sighed.
“It’s almost as if you want me dead.”
“Trust me, I want you alive.”
“Well, they want me dead.”
“Of course they don’t.”
“Because I’m useful? Because you haven’t cracked the code of their evolution and mine? Why can’t you just accept the fact that I was born this way? And that they were born that way, too? Why are you wasting your life here, when you should be out, living your life? When you should be out, smelling in fresh air, sitting on a beach?”
Edith closed her eyes. Alexia was questioning her existence, and she hadn’t been this vocal until today. She took mental notes of this. “I have to do my duties, Alexia,” she sensibly replied. “I chose this for myself-“
“You chose to open up children, to hurt them and keep them locked away?” Alexia whispered.
Dr. Delaney’s lips pursed. “Alexia, would you like to see how X014 is doing?”
She was changing the topic. Adults thought they knew so much about the world, but in reality, they were as lost as she was; they were as lost as the kids they had experimented on.
“I’m not allowed out,” Alexia finally said, playing along with Dr. Delaney’s conversation.
“That’s why I’m here,” Edith gave a quick smile, whipping out her tablet.
She placed this on the table and clicked on a channel. The feed was a replay of the fight between X014 and X009. Her patient watched in rapt attention, her eyes widening as the werewolf lunged for X014, his claws digging onto the ground, missing X014 by inches. She heard Alexia gasp as X009 swiped a large paw on X014, and the night-mode scene showed blood spurting out of the wound inflicted. X014 side-swiped the werewolf as he fell, causing the werewolf to crash on the muddy ground. As soon as X014 stood up, the werewolf did too, and quite shakily at that. Without another moment wasted, X014 kicked X009 with all he could muster, sending the werewolf falling to a torrent of fast-moving sludge.
Alexia stared at Ryker. She had heard his voice, heard how painful the shifting was, and she told him not to, trying to help him.
“Don’t,” she had thought looking at him. “Don’t shift…”
Ryker had looked back at her, anguish in his eyes as his breathing came in rasps. Don’t shift, and she knew her voice had magnified in his head…
He didn’t want to shift because it pained him? Or he didn’t want to shift because he didn’t want the world to see his true form? X014 was now running, stumbling while looking for shelter. He was still bleeding, and the commentator announced that he had probably broken a few bones in the process. Alexia shivered when he tried to bandage his arm and blood gushed out as he did. He saw him closing his eyes, finally overcome with exhaustion and pain.
He should have shifted, Alexia thought; he should shift now. He was hurting beyond human comprehension, and turning into a werebear would put a stop to that…
Alexia looked away, closing her eyes. “Why did you show this to me?” she asked Dr. Delaney, her voice shaking.
“You made an impact on him, one way or another.”
“Is this why he isn’t shifting? I’m not even there…” Alexia whispered. “You showed me this to upset me on purpose.”
Dr. Delaney shook her heads. “That is the last thing I want to do. I’m showing you this to show you that you still have a reason to fight. You fight with him.”
Alexia said nothing. How would she fight? Defy examinations? Escape? There was no escaping here. All she could do was wait, until she died, or until they tired of her and by some miracle, they would let go of her, without the necessary skills to survive the real world that did not involve electroshock and injections and near daily blood transfusions.
“It’s almost six o’clock. I expect you’ll be having your breakfast soon. Eat it; you’ll need the strength and stamina once the games are over.”
But of course, it was back to the painful daily grind. How much more could she take? She was still quiet as Dr. Delaney left her room. Moments later, the doors hissed open, and in came her breakfast. It was no pauper’s breakfast; they fed her the right amount of nutrients needed. She didn’t say her thanks, which the staffer noticed. His eyes narrowed, wondering if the fatigue had finally gotten to the poor test subject.
She stared at her meal; her utensils were made out of plastic. She had never held metal or stainless steel cutlery. Even her water was inside a plastic bottle. Maybe she could steal a scalpel soon enough… she bit her lower lip, marveling at her pattern of thought, and then she ate an omelet with two slices of toast. There was a plastic glass of milk, as well, for her calcium (which still didn’t heal her broken bones quickly enough).
Eat it, Dr. Delaney had told her.
She felt there was something else in those words, something Dr. Delaney had wanted her to find out. So she chewed, her mind now wandering to X014’s face. It was strange how she still had an appetite, even if she had just seen someone die. Had she grown so accustomed to death? Years and years of being stuck in the same facility had desensitized her, but X014’s mind wouldn’t leave her. She liked his name and wondered what it meant. Ryker. Ryker what?
Would Ryker survive? She wanted him to, and yet she also wanted him dead. The experiments they had done to him before the games were just the tip of the iceberg. Previous winners had died, under the pretense of enjoying their new found fame and wealth, when they were dragged to the facility again and poked and opened and subjected to mental torture.
It was something that even the researchers didn’t speak of. The government was the absolute rule, and Alexia was merely part of that rule, the lowest of these humans to grace the facility. She would remain that way unless, by some miracle, she could escape this pristine hell-hole.
*
Ryker had woken up mere seconds ago, blinded by the sunlight that had filtered through the canopy of leaves above him. He was alone, gladly. He breathed heavily, and then felt that pang of discomfort. He looked down to see his chest discolored, his left chest particularly mottled looking; a mixture of purple and red. Ryker sighed, knowing this would render him nearly useless.
Shift, a voice inside his head told him. Shift.
He looked around, startled. It was all in his head, wasn’t it? There were no speakers out here, just cameras… But it was her voice. It was that girl’s voice in the facility. She had told him not to shift back then. Why was she telling him…? He stopped. It’s all in your head; it’s all in your head. He was making things up to comfort himself, and strangely enough, hearing her voice calmed him down.
He breathed in slowly this time, his mind concentrated on her face, her eyes. He could still see her clearly. Those soulful eyes that had told him thousands of stories without saying a word, that somber face that had seen hell like he had. She was imprisoned, and there was a part of him that wanted to break her out of that facility, if only he could, and take her with him.
Why was she in his thoughts at a time like this? Was this what people did to survive? Think of anything else to distract them from the present? He had to stand, he thought. He had to find food and a safer place to convalesce. He felt heat emanate from his hand, and the holographic screen appeared. Someone had died, first thing in the morning.
X007, werewolf. A boy this time, probably around sixteen years old. He had this library-geek look on his face, someone who would never survive the games. What did they do to the bodies after, anyway? He had never seen anyone take the bodies. Were they left to rot here? Without proper graves?
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stand. Move, Ryker, move. He clutched his chest, feeling the broken rib move against his skin, and he had to catch his breath as he did. Damn it, he cursed. How could he run with this lingering pain? There was no telling what the architects would think of next -- there could be a flood again, there could be drought, or there could be meteors raining from the sky.
There could be… he heard something and froze in place.
In front of him was another werebeing.
*
Ryker leaned against a tree, readying himself for another fight. The one across from him was a boy with ginger hair and a lanky frame. The boy stopped, shaky and wary of him.
“You’re hurt,” the ginger-haired boy said.
“No kidding,” Ryker rasped. “If you’re here for a fight-“
“No, I’m not. In fact, I ran away from one. You’re the werebear.”
Everyone recognizes me now? Ryker thought. So, everyone’s seen my profile and I haven’t seen theirs? How was that for unfair? “And you’re-?” Ryker asked him.
“Werefox. I think I was born with the red hair, destined to become a werefox. I’m X003,” he said, taking another step forward.
Ryker found himself chuckling. Of all the things to do in the middle of a brutal game, he was laughing, and boy -- did it hurt. “Who did you run away from?”
“Some werewolf, X012. He was a born murderer; I escaped because he was about to kill 100another,” Three shuddered.
Screens appeared above their wrists, signaling another werebeing down.
Ryker closed his eyes briefly. It was Five. Five, whom he had met so briefly, whom he had advised to steer clear of certain places… he felt a pang of anger for someone he had barely known. It was expected for them all to die, except one.
“You knew him?” Three asked.
Ryker nodded. “On the first day.”
Three looked at Ryker. “Dude, you’re purple,” he commented, taking another step forward.
“You’re not gonna kill me now, are you?” Ryker asked matter-of-factly.
“It’s tempting, that would be one more down,” Three said, slumping on the ground across from Ryker.
Ryker breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. “That wouldn’t be a challenge. You won’t be giving viewers some prime time action.”
“Screw their show. I only wanted to be with my family. They’re dead now. I didn’t want to be a part of it. Some unlucky lottery. There’ll be none of us left soon enough,” Three said bitterly, not caring if everyone heard it. If he was going to die soon, might as well make the most out of dissing the government, right?
“Why don’t you shift to heal faster?” Three asked after a few moments of silence.
“It’s painful,” Ryker said.
“When is it not painful? You just get used to it to survive. You know, strike fear into their hearts and into the hearts of everyone watching us. Plus, you’re a werebear; your kind is, like, legend.”
Maybe I’m the last one… Ryker thought. “It doesn’t change the fact that we’re here. So, where have you been in this place?”
“I got to the top of a hill,” Three said. “This place is big, like Alaska wilderness big.”
“Any other animals?”
“Aside from prey? Nope. I know there are booby traps somewhere. Like the floods last night… I was hiding in a tree, a good thirty feet above ground. Then I saw X009 dead on the screen.”
Ryker nodded. At least X009 was dead. Nine had murder in his eyes, too.
“You should shift,” Three told him. “It’ll help you.”
“It’ll help you, too,” Ryker told him, resting his head on the tree behind him. “I’m guessing you want me to shift and protect you.”
“Not just me. There’s a few of us who can’t win this thing. You’re one of those who can and will,” Three told him, closing his eyes. “Besides, we’d prefer to be under the shadow of you than that weretiger…”
Weretiger? Ryker looked surprised.
“You didn’t know?” Three said. “That weretiger’s a cannibal. He’s part of those tests, tests that have gone on since he was a little boy. Four told me he was enhanced.”
Enhanced. So, it was possible. Had this weretiger’s genetics been suppressed until the facility took over, forcing them to surface? It was clear that this was no free-for-all battle. They were pitted against each other, and the last two standing were considered the alpha male or female. Again, it was a reminder that their situation was unfair.
“So, he’s bigger?” Ryker asked.
“Bigger than most weretigers, and I haven’t seen many. They’re like you, pretty rare. Just not as rare as you are,” Three said. “Listen, how about we form a temporary alliance? The others have done it.”
“And then we kill each other off when there’s only the two of us left?”
“At least there’s hesitation in the kill. And maybe mercy,” Three said with good-natured humor.
“We’ll see where it goes; I won’t make promises,” Ryker told him.
“Of course you won’t. There can be only one winner, after all. We can choose to kill ourselves if need be. I just don’t think it would be something my family would have wanted to see. They’re the normal ones. What about you?”
“I have no family,” Ryker quickly replied.
“Should we build a fire?” Three asked him, sensing Ryker’s discomfort. The sun had begun to set, and Ryker realized he had awoken late in the afternoon, with no meals or water.
“No, just shift,” Ryker told him. “Best we avoid any other werebeings for now.”
“You hungry? I’ll find food for you,” Three said.
“No, just get some for yourself,” Ryker told him, seeing rain clouds overhead. At least there was going to be some water soon.
Three looked hesitant to leave him. “There might be a flood.”
“Then I’ll shout for help,” Ryker told him deprecatingly. “Now, go.”
Ryker felt the pain reverberate all throughout his body. At least the bleeding had stopped, but a broken rib was still a broken rib. Rain began to fall from the skies mere minutes after Three left to forage. He opened his mouth and felt the taste of sweet rain water, clean and cold. The air began to grow cold as quickly as the rain fell.
Ryker’s breath fogged up, and he had only begun to stand up when Three came back hurriedly, startling them both.
“Sorry,” Three said, “it’s rain, and you know…it might flood again. So, shelter?”
Ryker nodded. “A little help here?”
“Oh, right,” Three said. He helped Ryker lean against him, despite the fact that he was a good five inches shorter than Ryker. “So, higher ground? Or some cave?”
“A cave in higher ground,” Ryker said, shaking from the pain and a growing fever, and that was when he knew the infection had begun. “Then we can make a fire inside, a small one…”
“Right,” Three said.
Together, they began their long and arduous walk, a temporary truce to help them both survive until the next day.