Defiance

by Hannah Hanson

CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Please give a warm welcome to Sue!” Diablo shouted, his voice echoing through the overcrowded arena. Amelia stood beside him, and a young girl with vibrant red hair emerged from the group of fighters.

  Diablo slithered past Amelia, whispering, “Crush her.”

  Sue stood before Amelia, pacing back and forth eagerly. Then, without warning, Sue threw the first punch, her small frame gliding across the floor. Amelia ducked and regained her posture. She stared at her opponent. Her small freckled face twisted as she paced past Amelia. She paused. Then, suddenly, she threw her weight at Amelia’s waist. Amelia, too slow, felt the painful jab at her stomach. Both fell to the ground. The hard floor sent a shooting pain to the back of Amelia’s skull. Sue regained her posture and hurled herself on top of Amelia. Amelia struggled under her. She couldn’t understand how such a lightweight could be giving her such a hard time. At school, she was always the quickest, the strongest. But in this place, she was nothing but a newcomer, and one who was struggling miserably.

  The smell of sweat and body odour lingered in the air like a thick fog. Amelia’s heart pounded against her chest, causing her throat to constrict. For a moment, she felt as though she would collapse. The room was swarmed with cheering faces. Without thinking, and with the rush of adrenaline seeping through her pores like venom, she abandoned rationality.

  In the wake of darkness, she allowed her fears of being defeated to morph into the unimaginable. She grabbed Sue’s hair and pulled it back. Sue screamed in agony. Amelia let go of her hair and shuffled backwards.

  The two girls stared at each other for a while, both waiting for an opportunity.

  Amelia raised her right leg just above her chest. Sue, having seen it, placed her forearm in front of her face. The kick collided with her right forearm. Sue bent over, holding her injured arm, and Amelia grabbed her hair, pulled it backwards, and smashed her elbow against Sue’s face. The crowd cheered as Sue staggered. No longer able to keep her posture, she fell to the floor. Amelia slammed her knuckles against her chin. The cheers were so loud; they felt like the air itself.

  Amelia shouted as she spun around, swung her body sideways, and ducked. She deflected Sue’s blow with her forearm but lost her bearing in the process. Sue threw a punch. Her fist collided with Amelia’s nose. Amelia wailed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Unable to control the pain, she let her legs give way and sank to her knees.

  Sue took this window of opportunity and hurled a kick against her chin. The loud crack echoed in Amelia’s ear. She cried in agony. The crowd roared whilst Amelia lay curled on the ground.

  “If you die here, who will find your father?” she asked herself. With a sudden surge of energy, Amelia jumped up, placed her legs at shoulder width, bent her knees, and waited. This time, she would take the defence. She had to learn the behaviour of her opponent. Watch for patterns. Only then would she be able to fight back. Sue, almost sensing Amelia’s goal, paused. She stood tall, but then dropped her arms to her sides and waited. Her forehead was shining with sweat.

  The loud booing from the crowd rang in Amelia’s head.

  Suddenly, Amelia grabbed Sue’s right arm, twisted it behind her back, and kicked the backs of her knees. Sue’s frail body tumbled to the ground. Amelia grabbed her head and thrashed it against the floor.

  “Stop!” someone cried in the distance. Then the person fell silent, as though their voice had failed them. Amelia stood up and glanced at the still body. A man came to Sue’s aid and turned her over. Her face was dripping with crimson blood. Amelia, in that moment, was white as a sheet. Suddenly, horror swept her heart. Sue turned her deathly pale face to her; she twisted her lips weakly in an attempt to utter something.

  Amelia bent close to the girl.

  “They’re looking for you,” Sue mumbled through a bloody mouth.

  Guilt overpowered Amelia and, as she tried to edge closer to find out more, Diablo grabbed her hand and raised it to the crowd, declaring her the victor.

  “The stakes have been raised,” he shouted to the crowd. The words meant nothing to Amelia as she stared at Sue’s broken body being rushed away. She prayed hard for her survival. Her sanity relied on Sue living. She didn’t intend to cause her such harm, but somewhere in the middle of the fight, she had lost herself. She had become consumed with rage.

  What exactly did Sue mean by, they’re looking for you? Who were they?

  The crowd chanted, “Angel!” as they shook the barbed wire fences of the arena. She feared they would break through and kill her until she realised they were cheering her.

  “Does the winner want to say anything to the crowd?” Diablo whispered in her ear. His breath was hot and the stench of alcohol was nauseating. She shook her head and slipped behind him, and he took her out of the arena.

  The other team members stared at the ground as she walked past. Was it shame they felt on her behalf? What had she done? The questions that floated in her thoughts had no answers and she continued to torment herself as she sat on the bench, watching the others fighting like animals.

  Her heart rate slowed to normal, and the warmth she had felt during the fight was replaced by a chill that seeped through her veins. She glanced around to see why it was so cold. Sometime during the fight, she had removed her jumper, and the black t-shirt she wore was not enough to keep her warm. She wrapped her arms around herself and sprawled on the wooden bench, facing the arena.

  Ace was fighting next. He had broad shoulders and was of muscular build. He had a rectangular face with a sharply defined and sturdy jawline. His dark, soft ebony skin glistened under the radiance of the arena’s light. His small brown eyes sat below thick unruly eyebrows. His thick lips remained closed as he stared into the crowd. His jet-black hair was tied neatly with a thin leather strap to reveal a wide forehead.

  His fight was short and swift. It seemed as though he was playing with his opponent. He darted back and forth and dodged each punch and kick as though it were merely a game. He was too smooth. A pinch of jealously soared through Amelia’s veins. Abruptly, as Ace was looking at the crowd, gloating through evenly spaced white teeth, his opponent’s kick collided with his face. Ace tumbled backwards and fell to the ground. The sound of a crack pierced through the crowd’s roar. His opponent suddenly had the upper hand. He punched repeatedly at Ace’s face whilst Ace lay motionless beneath him. The crowd gasped, then came to a sudden silence. Ace’s opponent was thin and of lanky physique, and with every punch, Ace merely twitched.

  Then Ace grabbed his opponent’s shoulders and pushed him back with such force that he stumbled back several feet. Ace swiftly stood up, raced towards the other boy, and let his large bare feet crush against his chest. The sound of cracking ribs and the piercing cry sent shivers down Amelia’s spine. Ace then did something remarkable. He grabbed the young man with one arm and held him up. He stared at the crowd and raised his right arm to the crowd. The crowd screeched with unbearable excitement as the young man heaved and coughed.

  Ace had shown mercy, something Amelia was incapable of doing. Her heart raced and the pounding rang in her ears.

  In the chaos and chanting, Amelia drifted. She had proved herself to be a brutal asset. However, as she sat on the bench, bile lingered in her throat. Had she lost a part of her soul in an attempt to survive? Would there ever be salvation for her crimes? As she tormented herself with these thoughts, she almost failed to notice the crowd hastening out of the arena. The games had come to an end.

  It seemed like minutes, but from the numbness radiating down her spine as she stood up, she knew no less than several hours had passed. She glanced over the crowd one last time. Men, women, and children rushed past her. Something uncomfortable about their very presence sent a chill down her spine, yet she could not say for certain what alarmed her.

  Among the crowd, someone stood out. It appeared to be a man, but she couldn’t be too certain. The hood on his black cloak covered his head and most of his face except
his lips, which seemed to curl into a smirk. Just as quickly as she had seen him, he vanished into the crowd. Someone pushed her forward and her gaze was pulled away. Reluctantly, she walked through a small corridor that led to the staircase.

  “What time is it?”

  “We have no use for time,” Ace said, his voice hoarse and heavy. Was it guilt he felt?

  Amelia darted through the other team members and walked beside him. The smell of sweat and blood made her nostrils flare and she wondered if she smelled just as bad.

  “Why didn’t you finish the fight?” Amelia asked quietly, her voice barely audible even to her.

  Ace watched her through glazed eyes. His dark eyes were captivating. They drowned her in darkness and she had to hold back a shiver. He opened his mouth for a moment, and then closed it, shaking his head. He walked faster, as though avoiding her. Amelia, annoyed by his response, quickened her pace.

  “Why?”

  “Why did you feel the need to smash Sue’s head even after you had won?”

  Amelia paused. Why did the words feel so painful? “I didn’t know I had won,” she replied.

  “Then how did you know I didn’t finish my fight?”

  Amelia didn’t like him. She had convinced herself that his bark was more dangerous than his bite, but his cold words made her think otherwise.

  “Everyone has their style. I don’t like to cripple another,” Ace continued.

  As much as he was right, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Had her father been there at that very moment, she would have seen shame in his eyes.

  “How long have you been a fighter?” she asked.

  “A year, maybe two.”

  “Why haven’t you tried to escape?”

  Her question caught him off guard. He looked at her, confusion twinkling in his eyes. He smiled and continued walking. He had a kind smile. She wondered if he was always like this. Before she had a chance to catch up with him, someone placed a firm hand on her shoulder. Startled, she turned around.

  “He likes to be quiet after a fight.” A tall girl of broad build who went by the name of Rose stared back at her. Her grey eyes were framed by short blonde hair. She wore a black long- sleeved shirt and trousers. Amelia nodded and slowed her pace, her eyes still fixed on Ace.

  “You can’t escape this place,” Rose uttered.

  “There must be a way,” Amelia said.

  A young man with a defined, muscular jawline raised his head; his brown eyes glowed with hope. He had heard the conversation and beamed too broadly for his small mouth. Nervously, Amelia glanced around to see if anyone else had heard. Everyone seemed too far away or distracted to notice. She sighed loudly and let a small whimper of frustration escape her lips. Rose and the boy—whose name Amelia did not know—laughed at Amelia’s agitation. Diablo glanced around. His eyes paused on Amelia, and then he turned around.

  She looked at Rose and contemplated whether she would make a good friend. Friends were a liability in Area Eleven. She liked the idea of having a companion who was not a threat, for a change. In that moment of insanity she had forgotten her circumstances. She had drifted from her goals so quickly that the thought frightened her.

  They descended the staircase silently as she thought of her father. A small cry escaped her lips as she thought of him, and she quickly placed a palm over her mouth to stifle the sound.

  “Angel, come to the front.”

  It took a moment for Amelia to realise Diablo was referring to her. She darted through the group and stood by the landing.

  “My name is Amelia,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

  “Angel is your new name.”