Reactive: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Elite Trials Book 1)

by Becky Moynihan

  “Just think, this time tomorrow it will all be over,” he said, dropping his hand.

  I snorted. “Is that line really supposed to work?”

  He blinked. “No. I don’t know why I said it, really. Knee-jerk reaction, I guess.”

  “Now you sound like me.” I waved away the meat pie when he offered it back. “You can have it. I don’t think I can keep it down.”

  His mouth popped open, eyes glazing over.

  “What?” My face heated. “It’s not the worst thing in the world to sound like me.”

  “N-no,” he stuttered, pointing aggressively at the meat pie. “You just—you just shared food with me for the very first time. I think that means something. Something huge. I’m not sure what, though. Let me chew on it.” And he took a ridiculously large bite of my pie, smearing the guts across one cheek. I had to take a deep breath as my stomach lurched.

  I crossed my arms, cocking a hip. “Don’t think too hard. This is a one-time deal.”

  “Your protests are futile. This is the beginning of something epic.”

  My eyes rolled skyward. Only he could be so relaxed as to joke at a time like this. But I could feel the effects of his calm loosening my muscles even more, and I was grateful for it.

  Two hours later, we waited just outside the faintly buzzing Arcus Point cage under a roiling, sporadically-spitting sky. My muscles were clenched tighter than a steel trap. This time of year, the weather was unpredictable—one morning a cheery yellow with sleepy insects peeking out of their resting spots, and the next evening, bitterly cold, wet, and dreary. I could tell, as the dull afternoon grew dimmer and dimmer, we were in for the latter.

  I counted my arrows again, running my fingers over the fletching. Fourteen of them. All gold. Under normal circumstances, the arrows would be Tatum blue, but Bren had received those. I was sure Renold paired me with gold for a reason. He left nothing to chance. I slung the quiver over my head to rest against my spine and right shoulder blade, putting extra care into buckling the belt snugly across my chest.

  Bren was doing the same, and I snuck glances at him repeatedly. Last night, cradled in his arms, I had drifted to sleep feeling warm and safe. Now, I was cold and nervous. Cold from the drizzle and brisk wind, and nervous that I wouldn’t be safe with Bren once we entered the cage. He was driven to win, and so was I. We were two unwitting forces about to collide.

  But then he looked up, caught my stare, and winked. That’s all it took—one little wink—and I was a mess of confusion. I couldn’t compete against him. Could I? My freedom and finding my mum were the two most important things in the world to me. I would do anything to make those things reality. Even if that means hurting Bren?

  My heart gave a slow, miserable thump. The only solution was to separate from him as soon as we entered the cage. Fight our own battles. Because whoever killed the most beasts would win the Trial, and there were five contenders going in. We couldn’t team up. I had to ditch him at the gate.

  Yes, that’s what I needed to do.

  But what if he needed me? Suddenly, I could hardly breathe. An image of him laying on dead leaves, throat ripped out, skin and clothes stained red, flickered in my mind’s eye. The blood drained from my face.

  A shadow fell over me. Warm hands cupped my cheeks. “Lune? Lune, talk to me.” I knew it was Bren who spoke, but he sounded so far away. “Breathe. Don’t do this right now. Show me the brave girl I know is in there.”

  Then the noise that I dreaded most, the grind of metal sliding open, snapped me out of my stupor. I gasped in a breath, rapidly blinking, realizing Bren held my face and thousands of people were no doubt watching. I decided I didn’t care anymore. My gaze locked on his and I let him see how terrified I was. “I don’t think I can do this alone, Bren.”

  He could have shrugged and said, “Not my problem. You’re my enemy now.” I half expected him to.

  “Segment two, Arcus Point contenders, you’re up! You have five minutes to get into position before the ten beasts are released into the cage. In ten, nine, eight . . .”

  My eyes widened; my body shook uncontrollably. I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t do this. Bren’s forehead touched mine as he leaned in so close, gold was the only thing I could see. “You don’t have to be alone,” he whispered.

  “. . . five, four . . .”

  And then he said two words. Two words that should be easy, so easy to give into. But they weren’t—not with the secrets between us. Not when he had spoken those same two words eleven years ago, and nothing but pain and suffering had come from them. So, when he said, “Follow me?” my heart stopped beating. How could I? It would be all too simple for him to lead me to my death. He, more than anyone, knew of my weaknesses. With a quick thrust, he could push me into the path of a beast and watch as I—

  “. . . one! Into the cage, contenders, go go go!”

  Bren didn’t wait for my reply—didn’t need to. My answer was written clearly in my expression. As if realizing my feet were two useless stumps, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the cage. Several yards in, he released me, steps swift and purposeful as he led us away from the electric fence and grassy fields, and toward the dense center. I didn’t let myself think, just focused on his broad back and the bow and arrows shifting with each pump of his arms. We hadn’t quite covered a mile when Bren headed for a two-story cement building, the top floor partially caved in.

  My first instinct was to protest. The front door was missing, the windows dark empty holes. A death trap. But after a glance at my thin wristwatch, I clamped my lips shut. We were out of time. Right on schedule, a siren went off, a low-high whoop warning us that the beasts were now inside the cage. I could almost feel the vibration their paws made against the ground. The pounding jarred my teeth, my skull, the marrow of my bones.

  Strong, capable fingers tangled with mine, ushering me into the building’s entrance. “You can do this, little bird. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Inside felt damper than outside, the air heavy with mold and rotting things. We were in a black tomb. I stuttered, my tongue dry and swollen, “How—how do you know where to—to go?”

  He didn’t say anything for a beat; panic tickled my throat. Then, “Training. My eyes can adjust to darkness faster than the average human. Watch your step, we’re coming up on stairs.”

  Training? That’s it? Sure enough, my boot struck raised cement a few seconds later. As we ascended, our surroundings took on grainy shapes. Light from a second story window illuminated the stairs just enough that I avoided a particularly crumbly step. A cat-like scream came from that open window and I practically crushed Bren’s hand.

  He paused on the stair above mine, head slightly cocked. With a gentle tug, he urged me into motion again. “The animal is a good half mile away. Its cry just happens to carry long-distance.”

  “Oh, is that it?” I released a shaky laugh. “How do you even—How do you stay so calm and aware under pressure?”

  His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Training. Even though you were young, you’ve been on the outside and know how dangerous it can be. To survive out there, you must adapt. Learn new skills. In a chaotic world, the calm live long.”

  “Nice saying,” I muttered. “Let me guess, a lesson you were taught?”

  “Yeah,” was his reply. As much as I cared about him, right now I had an overwhelming urge to shake him until his teeth fell out. The secrecy had to stop, and soon, or I was going to explode.

  But for the moment, all I said was, “We were raised in vastly different worlds, you and I.”

  “You have no idea,” he distractedly murmured, rounding the corner of the second-floor landing. As we picked our way down a narrow hall, I wanted to scream, “Well I would know if you’d just tell me!” Instead, I savagely chewed on the inside of my cheeks.

  There was only one room with a door still attached, directly ahead at the end of the hallway. Bren released my hand and poked his head into each room we passe
d, but I ignored them all, shooting straight for that closed-off room. In a creepy way, it called to me, like it had been awaiting my arrival. Or maybe I just knew I was destined to go in there.

  I reached for the knob, only for a hand to grab my wrist and a giant body to nudge me aside. I gave the hulking idiot my most squinty stink-eyed glare, but all the look did was make him smirk. Arrogant, overprotective meathead.

  After thoroughly scanning the room for dangerous dust mites, he waved me inside. “All clear. The window has an unobstructed view of the field and tree line—a perfect shooting spot. You’ll just want to keep an eye on that man-sized hole over there, in case, by some miracle, something crawls through it.” He gestured at the outer wall on the right where there was indeed a large jagged hole.

  “And where will you be?”

  “The hallway.”

  I looked at him sharply. “Bren, no. I know what you’re doing and I don’t want you to. The hallway is a blind spot and too risky. I won’t let you do that. Not for me.”

  He gave me a stern look of his own. “Too bad, little bird. I’m doing it.”

  A growl rumbled in my chest. My hands clenched into fists. I was going to knock some sense into him. Stupid, stubborn fool. I wouldn’t have his death on my conscience too. And then he was in front of me, fingers sliding through my braid and cradling my head. I placed both fists on his stomach and pushed, to no avail. His ridiculous abs were made of rock.

  “Lune.” His voice softened and I felt myself weakening. As I met his eyes, my fingers unfurled and clung to the sides of his waist. I couldn’t lose him, I couldn’t lose him, I—A hot tear slid down my cheek. Bren groaned, as if that tiny speck of salt water hurt him. He leaned down and pressed his lips to it, murmuring against my skin, “I’d make it all go away if I could. But I can’t. So, please, let me protect you.”

  More tears joined the first and I slowly shook my head. “You can’t. I’m not a victim. Despite what Renold said, we can’t team up. We shouldn’t even be here together. We should be enemies.”

  “Never.” His fingers clenched, gripping at my hair. “We will never be enemies, no matter what happens, you hear? Just let me do what I came here to do. Let me . . .” His tone was pleading, almost desperate. His mouth was still on my skin, caressing, teasing . . . distracting.

  I managed to pull back. “Let you what? Why are you here? Why can’t you just tell me?”

  He grimaced and shook his head, not meeting my gaze. “I—I can’t. I want to. You have no idea. But . . . but if I do, I’ll—” His mouth snapped shut and he grunted. Pain. He was in pain.

  “What’s wrong? What’s happening?” I searched his body for injury as he hunched over, hands on his knees. His face turned red and his neck tendons strained. Could he not breathe? Oh stars. What was I supposed to do? I’d never done CPR before. “Bren!”

  It can’t end this way!

  That’s when I heard it. A scuffling noise from outside.

  I froze. In a flash, Bren straightened and made a beeline for the window. His wide shoulders blocked the view and I stared stupidly, feeling lost and scared and . . . He was dangerous for me. I was distracted, worried about him when I should be focused on the Trial. On winning. What was I doing, hiding out in this room with him when I should be fighting? When I should be earning my right to choose freedom?

  My stomach wanted to spew all over the floor. Was that why Renold put us in this Trial together? So, Bren would be a distraction? My weakness? So that I would lose? Oh stars, I was blind. I was the most idiotic idiot. But what had me doubling over was the real possibility that Bren could be in on it all. Toying with me. He could lock me away in this room while pretending to be my knight in shining armor, then abandon me and take the win for himself.

  Lines that had blurred were now sharpening. I clutched at my cramping stomach.

  “Lune.” He grabbed my shoulders and hauled me upright. His breaths were labored, but he was breathing. That’s all that mattered. “Get ready. Another contender is heading this way and a beast is on their tail. You can do this.” He pressed his lips to my forehead, then he was gone, sealing the door shut behind him.

  Now I was completely alone. Was I a prisoner? But I didn’t have time to check the door. The next moment brought the sound of running feet and a high-pitched shriek. I unslung my bow as I spotted a blonde-haired figure dashing for our hideout. She was lithe, young, and scared witless. Bren was right. A beast must be on her scent. She bounded through the front door.

  Claws scrabbling on cement was the only warning I got before pale-yellow paws stretched through the wall’s jagged hole and pulled a saber cat halfway into the room. Every muscle in my body locked. This wasn’t a synthetic machine. This was real, my nightmare in the flesh. Its eyes were twin suns, wholly trained on me. How the animal had found that hole and ultimately me was a thought I quickly shoved away.

  I had to move. Run. Hide. Anything! My feet were cement.

  Arrows. I needed one. My brain felt stuffy, useless. I was out of time. The cat was fully in the room now. If it weren’t for years of training, I never would have moved. I reached for an arrow and nocked it to my bow. My hands shook, and the shot flew wide, sinking into the beast’s shoulder. Its maw opened and it screamed, revealing the longest teeth I’d ever seen.

  Holy stars above, I was dead meat.

  The cat’s front legs lowered as it readied to spring and I knew, without a doubt, that I didn’t have time to prepare another arrow. I wrenched my body from its frozen state, slinging my bow across my back as I whirled for the far-left corner where I’d seen a chair earlier. It was wood and missing a leg, but it felt like a sword as I grabbed hold and swung.

  The legs snapped off as they cracked against the cat’s thick skull. Pieces of wood flew in all directions. The impact numbed my hands and the flimsy weapon careened into the wall. While the splintering crash distracted the cat, I slammed my boot into its face. Before I could kick it again, the air practically shook as something thudded against the door, causing the wood to split down the middle.

  Bren. My lungs seized. He needed my help. I knew it as I lunged for the door. Crack! The door caved inward. I immediately rolled to avoid being flattened to pancake proportions. Another saber cat leapt into the room only to whirl and trounce the lithe blonde girl I’d seen but a moment ago. My brain switched off. I focused on the blue arrow sticking out of the monster’s tawny chest, then its glistening fangs as they ripped into the girl’s throat.

  A throat that should have been Bren’s.

  In the span of a breath, her terrified screams became wet gurgles, fear-stained eyes a dull gray. I choked, gasping on helpless sobs. Just like that, she was dead. I should have helped her, I should have . . .

  The noises I was making drew both cats’ attention like moths to a flame. Four bright eyes fixed on me and I knew it was over. No. An arrow was nocked to my bow, ready to shoot. When had I—? Don’t think, just shoot! The arrow burrowed deep. An eye winked out, leaving only three. One of the giant cats, muzzle slicked red, crumpled on top of the girl, and I winced.

  “Lune! Run!”

  I hesitated, and that split second of indecision was all it took for the other cat to rip its claws into me. My leather vest tore like paper. The sensation of fire igniting my stomach and bruised ribs was instantaneous, and I screamed, long and agonized. In a flash, Bren was up, yelling at the beast. He loosed an arrow into the cat’s side and, with horror, I realized the wound only enraged the animal further. A massive paw swiped for my legs and I leapt backward, scant inches to spare.

  “Run!” Bren roared again.

  But where? And then I knew. I didn’t head for the hallway. No, I dashed for the man-sized hole in the wall, not even pausing when Bren started shouting words I couldn’t decipher. And then I jumped into nothing. The leap was a gamble, one that could end with me broken on the ground. But I’d glimpsed the flat, one-story building only yards away and took the chance.

  The roof came at
me faster than expected and I tucked into a roll too late, landing heavily on my side. I groaned. My ribs—of course the injured ones—took the brunt of the fall. The sky winked out and I looked up in time to see the cat soar over me, alighting on the rooftop with agile paws. Carefully, I stood, trapped with only a flimsy bow and arrows between me and this nightmare. Two broken arrow shafts protruded from its body, but the beast was still very much capable of tearing me to shreds.

  My hand rose a notch, inching for an arrow, when the cat shot toward me. I raised my bow like a sword and thrust one end into the cat’s face, but with a flick of a paw, the bow clacked across the rooftop. Several hundred pounds reared up and took me down, my back and skull bouncing off cement. The cat’s dagger-like claws pierced through leather yet again, this time hooking into the skin right above my chest. The claws flexed and a scream ripped from my throat. Pressure, so much pressure. Pain—sinking, stabbing, consuming.

  The world swam, pulling me under, and this time I couldn’t escape. I would finally drown.

  I failed.

  Breath hotter than the pits of hell hit my neck, a drop of acid saliva striking my collar bone. I squeezed my eyes shut. My last thought would be of my cowardice. I wasn’t enough. But instead of tearing out my jugular, the cat dropped all its weight on top of me.

  The great pressure on my chest pushed the air right out of my lungs, depleting them completely. My whole body seized, eyes and mouth flying wide as I strained for air. Nothing. What was it doing? Taking a nap? I wouldn’t die in a pool of blood after all. I would die of suffocation. Dark splotches stole my vision and I knew in a matter of seconds I’d be gone. I had failed . . .

  And then all pressure vanished. At least death wasn’t heavy.