by Nancy Isaak
“He’s become such a frigging tyrant,” Cherry hissed. “I hate that mofo more than I’ve ever hated anybody.”
“Well, just imagine how he’ll be in six months’ time if he keeps on winning…or in a year…or in two years. Because, if we don’t stop him now, Brandon will only become more and more powerful. As it is, he and the Foxes already have most of the Conejo Valley under their thumbs.”
“Plus, they’ve got the southern part of Malibu.”
“And after the Arena, they’ll go after the rest. With the treaty they’ve got going with the guys at the Point Mugu Naval Station, the Crazies could take the whole coastline from Ventura to Santa Monica by February, I’d bet.”
“Don’t forget that Brandon’s sending out recruitment teams down into L.A. and San Diego,” Cherry added. “To make treaties with the gangs there.”
“And if those recruitment teams are successful, who knows what he and the Foxes will do next. Probably the Crazies will be sent east—toward Nevada—expanding their territory, taking up slaves and soldiers as they go.”
“This is so insane!” Cherry leaned her head back against the wall and sighed deeply. “Kaylee, you know when Brandon sees you in the Arena…you know what he’s going to try and do to you, right?”
“I’m counting on it.”
She turned and looked at me, worried. “I’m scared for you, Kaylee. You’re taking such a big chance.”
“Says the free girl living as a slave in Crazy-land,” I grinned.
Cherry’s hand reached down to clutch at mine. “You really gonna’ do this, huh?” When I nodded, she squeezed my hand even tighter. “Then, I’ll be there, too. In the stands, along with the others.”
“You don’t have to. In fact, it might be even better if you head back down to the Point as soon as you finish my tattoo. Then, I’d know that you’d be safe. And you can let everybody know what happened—just in case.”
Cherry gave a small shake of her head. “Nah…I think I’m gonna’ stay and watch you slay the evil dragon. And who knows…maybe I’ll even slay a couple of my own.”
I laid my head on her shoulder—feeling suddenly very, very tired. “But if I fail—you run, okay?”
“Like a bunny,” Cherry joked—giving me a nudge.
* * * *
She wound up staying the night, sleeping beside me in my bed. Like two sisters keeping secrets from our parents, Cherry and I laid facing each other, whispering for hours—about things important, and others not so much.
“The thing I don’t get about their whole relationship,” I admitted, sometime past midnight, “is what Shawnee’s up to? I mean, I like Wyatt fine but—like Shawnee’s a soldier now and he’s such a…”
“Little wus?”
“Exactly!”
“Well, if I know my sister—Wyatt’s probably just really nice to her. Like one of those guys who doesn’t play any games or always has to prove that he’s the best at everything.” She broke into a big grin. “Of course, it could also be because Wyatt’s got, like a ginormous wiener!”
It took more than a few moments before the two of us were able to stop our immature giggling.
“Whatever,” Cherry finally concluded, swallowing one last giggle with a hiccup. “As long as Shawnee’s happy. And she’s happy with him, right?”
“She’s happy,” I nodded. “And Wester’s got his own admirers now, too, by the way.”
“Let me guess—Hannah and Lily?”
“They follow him and Ethan around like little puppies. And they go back and forth each week—like one week, Hannah says she’ll marry Wester…the next week, it’s Lily.”
“Everyone is pairing up down on the Point,” Cherry said—somewhat wistfully. “I wish I could see it. You’ll make sure that Wester chooses good, right? I mean, if I don’t make it back—you’ll make sure that he pairs up with the right girl?”
“Shaddup...you can do that yourself!” Frowning, I reached behind me to scratch at the center of my back.
“Don’t!” Cherry grabbed at my hands, pushing them down. “I know your tattoo is itchy, but you have to leave it alone right now.”
“But it’s driving me nuts!”
“You might be having a slight reaction to the ink. Look, I’ve got an antihistamine in my purse somewhere. That should help.” Cherry got up and walked over to where her things were. She dug around in a large fabric bag, then returned to the bed with a small pill and a bottle of lotion.
“I still can’t believe that Kieran and Cammie finally got engaged,” she said, sitting down on the side of the bed. “Plus, Florenza is pregnant…and Pauly, of all people, is going to be a father!”
She handed me the pill and I dry-swallowed it.
“What about here in the Valley?” I asked. “Have you seen any girls pregnant up here?”
Cherry nodded. “It’s kind of hard to tell because of the stupid sheets—but, yeah…the babies are starting.”
For some reason, that made me happy.
I liked the idea that—even in all of this horror—perfect little babies were waiting to be born. It made me think of the tiny life that I carried inside of me—and of how important it was that I did whatever I needed to protect its future.
To protect all of the babies’ futures.
“Turn over,” commanded Cherry, holding up the bottle of lotion. “I’ll put some more of this on your back. It should help with the itch.”
I did as she told me—lying on my stomach—while Cherry gently massaged the cream into my skin. Her hands were gentle and careful around my still raw-tattoo; what a good mother Cherry would make someday, I suddenly realized.
Hopefully—if I succeeded—she would have that chance.
* * * *
“Thank you for the sketchbook. It was the best wedding gift ever!”
The sun was starting to rise and Cherry and I were back to lying on the bed, facing each other. We were both moments away from sleep—obviously fatigued, yet still reluctant to stop talking.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Cherry yawned. “Sorry I didn’t manage to finish it.”
“You can finish it when you get back to the Point.”
“What did Jacob think of it?”
“Um…he liked it a lot.”
I must have taken too long to respond—or maybe she caught the distress in my voice—because Cherry raised herself up on one elbow and stared down at me.
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” she asked. “Like is there something going on with you and Jacob. Ohmigod—have you two broken up?!”
“We haven’t broken up,” I quickly assured her. “Well, not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
I shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
She thought about this for a moment before she finally responded. “Is it someone else?”
“Not really. I mean, I don’t think so,” I answered, trying to be honest. “Well, maybe there might be someone else now, because I’m gone…but I’m not really sure, you know.”
“Dude...what the hell!” Cherry sat up—instantly wide-awake. “You kind of have to give me a little more than that, Kaylee!”
With a groan, I pushed myself up—leaning against the headboard in a way that wouldn’t irritate my back. “It’s just…it’s a marriage, you know. You get some good times. Then, you have to work through some bad times.”
“And this is a bad time?”
“The worst.” My eyes suddenly filled with tears. Between my nerves over the upcoming Arena and talking about Jacob, I felt like my defenses were beginning to crack. “He’s changed, Cherry. Like Jacob’s just not himself anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just that—ever since he came back from your expedition—it’s like he’s so full of guilt and sadness and he just doesn’t want to be part of anything anymore.”
“Because he blames himself for what happened to us?”
I nodded. “I think so…I think losing you guys kind of d
estroyed him. And like he’s having trouble finding his way back now.”
“But you also said you think he might be seeing someone else?”
“There are these new girls at the Point. One of them—Miley—I think she might be after Jacob. And right now—he doesn’t seem to want to be anywhere near me. Jay thinks it’s because Jacob might feel less, you know—and because the guys in the tribe kind of want me to be the leader more than they want him.”
“Wow.” Cherry looked down at her hands, as if pondering the existence of her fingers. When she finally looked up at me again, she was—oddly enough—grinning.
“What?!” I barked, more than a little offended. “Like I didn’t think anything I said was really all that funny.”
Cherry tried to wipe the smile off of her face, but only half succeeded. “I’m sorry, Kaylee…it’s just that…well…I guess I’m not really all that surprised.”
“That Jacob doesn’t love me anymore!” The hurt and pain welled up inside of me; for a moment I actually felt that I might become sick.
“No, doof!” she teased, nudging me with her shoulder. “That he doesn’t know how to compete with you.”
“Compete…why would Jacob have to compete with me?”
“Because he’s a boy! And because he’s a football player, and a competitive surfer and—for a while there—the leader of almost a hundred Locals. His whole life has been about competition. Now, suddenly—here you are—this little blond girl who, if we’re really being honest, was kind of a mouse in high school. Only now you’re not just beating him—you’re leading him.”
“But that’s not true!” I insisted. “And, even if it was, I’d give him back the leadership in a second.”
Cherry gave a little huff of irritation. “That’s not being honest.”
“What are you talking about? If it meant getting my old life back with Jacob, I would, too!”
“You’d give the leadership of the Locals over to him?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then, go back now,” Cherry said, challenging me. “Today…that way Jacob can become leader again. Of course, then you’ll also have to tell him about the Arena.”
I felt my blood run cold.
“But you won’t do that, will you?” Cherry continued. “Because, if Jacob learns about the Arena, it would be just like him to come up and fight Brandon. Only you can’t have that happen, can you?”
The very thought horrified me; I shook my head.
“Because, if Jacob goes into the Arena, you don’t think he’d come back out alive.”
This time, I didn’t even respond; the answer must have been obvious on my face.
“I’ll bet you think that Jacob would be slaughtered.”
The thought was so heinous, it brought tears to my eyes. “I can’t let that happen, Cherry. I just can’t.”
“So—instead—you send in the one person that you think might be able to beat Brandon. You send in the mouse.”
“Not the mouse,” I shook my head. “Someone else Brandon won’t expect.”
“The fallen angel,” grinned Cherry.
“It’s the only person I can think of—to get close to him,” I said, weakly.
“And I think you’re right—it could very well work. Because it’s the kind of crazy, ridiculous plan that you’ve made before. And I followed you then because I believed in you as our leader. And I’ll follow you now.”
Our hands reached out of their own accord, our fingers interlacing—comforting each other.
“But I’d still rather you go back to the Point, Cherry,” I told her. “Seriously.”
“And seriously—you’re my leader and I won’t leave you by yourself in that Arena. I will be in those football stands on Halloween morning. And, even though you won’t know who they are, trust me when I say that there will be others there, too. So, when the signal is given, you can expect to see me rise up—and you will see the others rise up…the Stars.”
I couldn’t help it—my tears began to fall.
“It’s okay to be scared,” Cherry told me. “But don’t worry, because I know everything is going to turn out all right. Your doofus husband is going to figure it out, too. Just kill the bad guy, take over the leadership of the Crazies, then give Jacob back command of the Locals. You’ll be able to lead everything together then—as a team. And things will be just peachy-keen after that, you’ll see.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
Cherry shrugged. “Well, the alternative is Brandon cutting you down on the football field, the Crazies taking over the Point, and every girl becoming a slave. So, yeah…I’m choosing to be optimistic and say that everything is going to work out just like we’ve planned.”
“But you really think—?”
She suddenly looked just as scared as me; a slight tremor shook her body, like a cat had just walked over her grave.
And then she caught herself—and smiled brightly.
“Peachy-keen!” Cherry said, once again.
* * * *
The final days and nights leading up to Halloween and the Arena were spent either refining our plan or working out in the backyard. Alice had arranged for various Stars to show up for a few hours each day—big, tough guys—who would spar with me, trying to teach me offensive moves that they hoped would help in my upcoming fight with Brandon.
Through all of it, I tried to maintain a confident, cheerful attitude.
The truth, however, was that I was anything but; in fact—I was steadily losing it.
Each time I was thrown to the ground—or took a roundhouse to the chin—or got slammed into a tree, I was forced to realize just how unprepared I truly was. Physically, I simply was no match for a muscle-bound monster like Brandon and my practice matches reinforced that idea.
Some of the guys—after only a few minutes of fighting—refused to continue sparring with me; they were worried about hurting me, that I would somehow break in their arms. And, since Alice and I had agreed not to tell anyone the truth about the upcoming Arena, my sparring partners tended to become disillusioned very quickly, stalking away from our ineffectual matches with disappointment and distrust written all over their faces.
One of them—a tall 18-year old from Simi Valley—tossed me to the ground within seconds of beginning our one and only practice session together. Over the next few minutes, I tried desperately to land even one punch or kick—and failed. The kid simply overpowered me—again and again—teaching me an obvious lesson as he shoved me to the ground, taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in pushing my face into the dirt.
When his growing frustration at my weaknesses finally became too much for him, the kid tossed me one last time—sending me sprawling across the backyard. Then, with open disgust written all over his face, he walked over and hawked a loogie an inch away from my feet.
And—even though he said not a single word—it was obvious what he was thinking.
This bitch is the Challenger…wtf!
* * * *
Doubt flared throughout the Stars after that.
It became clear that no one in Alice’s household truly expected that I would be able to win against Brandon.
Expectations, trust, hope—ultimately, they had been left in that backyard along with my pride.
I was supposed to be Mother.
I was supposed to be the Fallen Angel.
I was supposed to be the Challenger.
Now, as I walked through the hallways, I heard myself being called something new, something I began to dread as possibly being prophetic.
…dead girl walking.
* * * *
Eventually, Alice’s large house became so crowded with Stars that even I had to bunk with three other girls. Of course, one of them was Cherry, so that wasn’t any problem.
The other two, however, were very shy slaves who—even in Alice’s safehouse—kept themselves completely covered with their sheets. Because of that, even though I knew their names, I took to calling the
girls Blue and Brown, which were the colors of their eyes—the only part of their bodies I ever saw.
“Why do they keep their sheets on?” I asked Alice, one night. The two girls were working quietly in a corner of the living room, counting pink cardboard boxes that Alice had brought them. Brown piled the boxes onto a nearby table, while Blue made checks on a clipboard that she was carrying.
“So, they don’t get recognized,” Alice told me. “This way, if something goes wrong, nobody can tell on them, because they won’t know who they are.”
“By ‘something’, I’m assuming you mean Brandon taking me down.”
She nodded. “That’s absolutely what I mean—yes.”
Then, she clapped me on the shoulder, so hard that I actually dipped slightly under the weight of her hand. “But it’s not going to happen, is it, Kaylee? Because you’re going to chop the balls off of that sonofabitch!”
I cringed at her words; they sounded so violent.
Because we were supposed to be the good guys.
Then, again—I was about to commit murder.
* * * *
The pink cardboard boxes that Blue and Brown had unpacked turned out to contain cross necklaces, exact duplicates of the one that Reena was wearing. Alice had scavenged all of them from the same place, a small jewelry store down in Oxnard. Coming from so far away, Alice was counting on no Crazy knowing the dangerous secret the necklaces hid.
On the night before Halloween, the crosses were distributed to each of the slaves—who would accompany their owners to the next day’s Arena. We were all having supper together—what was supposed to be a grand celebration—and a sheeted Brown and Blue moved up and down the table, handing out the necklaces to every girl there.
“Not me,” I said, when Brown reached me. “I can’t take the chance of a weapon being found on me tomorrow.”
Two beautiful brown eyes stared out at me from the slit in the girl’s sheet. It was hard to say for sure, but it looked like Brown wanted to say something to me. After a moment, however, she simply sighed and continued distributing her crosses farther up the table.