“Because of tomorrow.” His black eyes faded to gray.
“Your explanation isn’t very clear.”
“I’m sorry; just stay away from me.”
My heart shattered at those words, and Maxime ran off. I was lost. He had been my refuge and made me feel at home. He was the only thing I cared about in this lonely world. I walked to the tables alone, wishing more than anything for Maxime to stand beside me.
Then his words sunk in. What was happening tomorrow? What was he talking about?
“Nick,” I said as I trotted up to him. “What’s happening tomorrow?”
His forehead crinkled in deep thought. Then he said, “It’s Andrew’s birthday.”
I was even more confused. What was so terrible about Maxime’s birthday?
“Attention!” David yelled, catching everyone off guard. The crowd immediately fell silent.
Maxime stood up on one of the long tables. “The tournament is starting. Line up in rows of ten, and you will be partnered up with someone unfamiliar. Then, as a pair, you will go to the tournament grounds that are located by the lake. Sign up there and start the combat. Please be honest and follow the basic combat rules. If there is a problem, find a leader. Register your loss or victory where you signed up and receive further instructions there. Line up!”
We all lined up. Ryan left with David, so I stood by Nick. David called out names, and people stepped forward and walked off in groups of two.
I spent more than an hour waiting for my name to be called. Finally, David pointed at me, and I was paired up with Luke Cook. We introduced ourselves briefly. We were both in the same group, but he was twice my age. He had dark brown hair and hazel eyes with a tint of green. He was thinly built, and I felt like I wouldn’t have a problem defeating him.
Luke and I signed up, then went to the first open terrain we could find by the lake. The water was calm and reflected the clear sky. We couldn’t see the other side, but majestic pines surrounded ours. A beaver dam ran down the middle of the lake.
Ryan ran over, full of excitement. My heart melted when Luke picked Ryan up. It was obvious that they knew each other. I sat on the cold ground, away from them so they could have some privacy. I loved Ryan’s radiant smile as he talked to Luke. When they were finished, they approached me.
“Can I watch, Alex?” Ryan asked.
“I don’t see why not.”
“Thank you so much!” He jumped into my arms and gave me a hug.
Luke and I got into our fighting positions, and Ryan called out for us to start. Luke didn’t hesitate—he was strong, balanced, fast, and agile. His kicks were very steady and powerful, and his fists were steel, but his footwork was unstable. As we moved around quickly, his feet got lost, and I pinned him to the frozen soil. I felt bad for having hurt him, but he took his loss with pride as we recorded the score.
I was immediately paired up with someone else, and Ryan followed Luke. The fight was easy again, as well as the few hundred that followed. I was tiring slowly and enjoying myself at the same time. I was pleased to see that Nick had over two hundred victories. As I won more, the fights became more challenging, and the lack of food, water, and rest didn’t improve my situation. I had missed lunch, but I wasn’t the only one. We were all exhausted, but we kept going.
I was in the middle of fighting a tall, dark-skinned man with a comforting smile when David announced that we were down to fifty undefeated soldiers. My heart let out a scream of relief that I was almost done.
It was very dark, and I was very sore when my competition started to get challenging. The ones who had lost gathered around the fights, cheering and encouraging us.
My next opponent was an old man. He was in his late sixties with a silver beard and white hair. He looked fit, but I was sure the fight would be easy. A large crowd surrounded us, pushing us toward the water. The man shook my hand, and the fight started.
He kicked me in the ribs before I could even react. I caught my balance and my breath just in time to block a punch. I kicked his foot, he lost his balance, and then I elbowed him. We backed off each other for a couple of seconds, catching our breath. Then he charged at me, spun around, jumped, and kicked my chest. I fell on my back and he tried to punch me, but I blocked. He tried to trip me but failed. Without realizing it, he had backed me up into the water, and a tingling sensation rode up my spine. The cold water soaked my clothes and cut my ankles. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in. He pushed me under the water, and all of my muscles contracted in the frozen water.
The crowd enclosed around us, cheering louder than ever. The man tried to tackle my knees, but I jumped above him. Then he kicked my jaw, and I fell backward into the frozen lake. I tried to get up, but my soaked clothes were weighing me down.
I took a deep breath, dove under water, and quickly stood up behind him, but he had anticipated my move and kicked my abdomen. I tried to anticipate his moves, but he was unpredictable, always changing his kicks and punches before I could register the change. I was getting extremely frustrated.
I tried to punch him, but he twisted my arm back and plunged my head into the water. Water seeped into my lungs, and I thrashed in the icy water. When he let me go, I shot up, sucked in air, then quickly kicked his abdomen and punched his kidneys. I hooked my foot around his neck and pushed his face into the water. I allowed him to get up and catch his breath.
The rules stated that we had to pin our opponent to the ground for ten seconds to win, but I wasn’t going to drown him. He came at me and wrapped his fingers around my neck. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to pull his hand from my throat, but I couldn’t push him away or think of any pressure points. My head was spinning. He let me go, and I fell into the water. A cold shock slapped my head, and I thrashed in the water, gasping for air. I had lost.
I emerged from the water, admitting defeat. I followed the man back to the shore, and as soon as my feet hit the ground, I bent over, trying to catch my breath. My lungs hurt, my limbs were sore, and my head was spinning. I closed my eyes and felt someone’s large hand rest on my back. I shot up quickly, always on alert.
“Great job! You’re the most competition I’ve had in years,” the old man said with a smile.
“Thanks,” I muttered, panting.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” His voice was warm and parental, like a father or protector.
“Alex,” I answered with the little pride I had left.
“And how old are you, Alex?”
“Sixteen.”
“Well, I am immensely impressed.”
“Thank you. You’ve taught me a lot in just a couple of minutes. That was fun.”
“How do you feel? You took quite a beating and probably drank more than your stomach can handle,” he laughed.
“I’m fine, thanks. You?”
“Well, the age doesn’t help, but I’ll survive. It was an honor to fight you.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name either.”
“I’m Anton,” he answered, then left.
Nick ran up to me. “You’re shivering! Come, let’s get you dry clothes.” He put his arm around me and led me back toward the camp. All he talked about was my last fight, how intense it had been, how impressed he was, and how he couldn’t believe that I had lost. I remained silent; I didn’t want to hear it.
We went to his cabin, and he gave me dry clothes. I was truly frozen. I could tell that he was expecting me to change, because he kept talking but didn’t lead me out.
“Nick,” Maxime called from outside the cabin. “I need to talk to you.”
“Be right back,” Nick said as he darted out the door.
I quickly got changed, knowing that Maxime was distracting Nick.
I bolted out the door, thanked Nick in a hurry, and followed Maxime to camp. I had too many questions. The camp was deserted as I chased him. I called his name, but he ignored me. I sprinted in front of him, but he looked away.
“What’s wron
g?” I asked, panic lacing my voice. I couldn’t lose him, not now.
“Stay away from me.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “What’s so bad about your birthday?”
He froze in his tracks. He turned to me. His eyes were black.
“Go away,” he gritted.
Tears filled my eyes. “No,” I said, standing my ground.
“Go away, or you’ll get hurt.” His hand with the black cloth formed a fist.
Despite his anger, I didn’t feel threatened. I took his hand, but he jerked it away. He fell to his knees, his hands clutching his head, moaning in pain. His eyes were shut, his jaw clenched. He was fighting something internally. I knelt beside him, but he yelled, “Go away and stay away! I don’t want to hurt you!”
I was confused, and it hurt to see him in pain.
“Let me help you,” I said as I knelt beside him.
He clutched his heart with his right hand. His veins protruded from his neck. He was struggling to speak and move, as if he had no control over his actions. He slammed his fist against the frozen ground, the sharp twigs cutting into his skin and drawing blood. It didn’t seem real. Maxime was always in total control, but it appeared as if he had completely lost his mind. He twisted in anguish, like he was possessed by a demon.
“Alex! Get away from him!” David yelled as he ran toward us.
I tried to explain that Maxime needed help, but David only ordered me to step back.
“What did you say?” David asked as he knelt beside his brother.
“I don’t know. I—”
“What were you talking about?” David screamed. “The date? Family? Matthew?”
“Yes!” I said.
“Which one?”
“His . . . birthday,” I stammered.
David cursed under his breath, then spoke gently to his brother as he encouraged him not to give up. His voice was strangely entrancing. I watched attentively, not understanding what was happening. Maxime’s tension softened, and he grew incredibly weak. He collapsed with a loud exhale. David turned him onto his back and found his pulse. Maxime looked lifeless, as pale as snow. “He’s all right,” David said in a calmer tone. “I’ll explain what I can later, but let’s get him to his bed right now before anyone else comes.”
While David carried Maxime into the cabin, I stripped the bed and David lay Maxime’s body down. He tenderly placed a pillow under his brother’s head as I pulled the covers up to keep him warm. Maxime looked at peace with his eyes closed.
“He needs to rest,” David said as he ran his hand through Maxime’s thick curls.
We sat at the bottom of the stairs that led to Maxime’s cabin. I silently waited for an explanation.
David picked up a stick and started drawing circles in the dirt. “It’s a programming device beneath his skin,” he said. “It’s like the one that was placed in my neck only much more advanced. We cannot get rid of it. We’ve tried everything, but it’s useless. He’s had it since he was about twelve.”
“What’s the program for?” I asked hesitantly.
“Two things. One: it uses his anger and hate to strengthen him. And two: to kill you.”
My stomach plummeted. Maxime was programmed to kill me? No, it couldn’t be true. Tears formed in my eyes.
“It used to have a third reason—following orders—but we eliminated that one. The only side effect of the attempted antidote is that his eyes change color depending on his moods, but only three colors: green, blue, and black. Black is anger or hate. At first it was pretty cool, but now I don’t even remember if he originally had green or blue eyes. I’m not even sure what those two colors represent. I’m pretty sure green is neutral, but I wouldn’t bet on that. Based on his eye color, people can tell if he’s against a compromise. Anyway, his eyes change color for specific reasons. Black tends to be triggered by any reference to Matthew and the thought of his birthday, because that was when his parents were killed. Other factors contribute easily, but if anything can be related to Matthew or Maxime’s family, his eyes will darken.
“He’s almost always in pain, but he has learned to control it. As you just witnessed, it’s not always easy, because he has to go against the program that is trying to control him. It’s like overriding commands without the right power. It’s complicated. Don’t take it personally, but he’s programmed to kill you. You’ll have to ask him for the details. He won’t even share all of them with me. I don’t even know how he got it exactly, but the more time you spend with him, the more you’ll understand it. When you’re around, it reminds him of what he’s supposed to do. Mix that with his birthday tomorrow, and you get the crisis that just occurred. Don’t worry; he’s used to fighting the program, as you can tell since you’re still alive.”
“Who programmed him? When? How?” Too many questions were storming through my mind.
“That’s for him to answer. I swore never to say. Sorry.”
“You can’t do that. Please.”
“No.”
I didn’t ask a third time, already being consumed by the information I had just gathered. It felt as if a meteor had just rammed into my head. I was spinning in complete confusion. “Is there anyway to just appease the pain?” I asked.
“Not really. Painkillers accentuate the rage because it cuts off the chemical reaction that allows the brain to analyze a situation. We tried it six years ago. It’s like an internal war that drains his energy. You should be careful today, tomorrow, and after tomorrow, because the program will be very sensitive. When his eyes are black, change conversation topics. And if it gets really out of hand, get help, defend yourself, and encourage him to not give in,” David spewed as if he were reading from a manual.
“How bad can it get?” I was afraid of the answer.
“With all the years of experience, it shouldn’t be too bad. He knows to isolate himself if he feels the need to kill.”
“Is death possible?” I questioned.
“Yes.”
“For anyone? He would kill anyone who triggers it?”
“Unlikely, but yes. Stay out of his way when he tells you to. Here’s what happened six years ago . . .” David stood up and pulled up his shirt to reveal a scar from his right hip to his left shoulder.
I cringed. “Why kill me?”
“Whether you like it or not, everything surrounds you. Matthew wants you to kill, and others want to kill you so you won’t kill. Kind of ironic, no? Everyone just wants the war to end, so getting rid of his heir seems like a good step. The program only targets you because you were and in some cases still are considered a threat. Andrew can’t face Matthew simply because it goes against the code. It’s really complicated, and you’ll have to ask him about it. I don’t even understand it.” The door slowly opened, and we turned around.
“David, I . . .” Maxime was barely standing at the top of the stairs. He looked drugged.
“Andrew! You’re too weak. You need to rest,” David insisted.
“I’m fine . . .” Maxime started to fall, and I ran up the stairs to catch him.
“No, you’re not,” I whispered in his ear. I loved holding him. His soft curls cushioned my ear. His arms and legs dangled lifeless. He was unconscious, so I pressed my lips against his neck and kissed him. I didn’t want to let go. I loved him, the man who was programmed to kill me.
David took Maxime from me, but I didn’t want to let him go. I knew that I couldn’t love him. As he slipped out of my arms, his scent danced in the air, circulating above us. “Shouldn’t someone watch him?” I asked David.
“No one can. It’s too dangerous for you. I have to run The Shadows, and if anyone finds out about this, he can lose his position,” he explained. “Just go, and be careful.”
I walked to the lake and sat on a stump, tears burning my eyes. Everything was a blur. Maxime was constantly being tortured because of me. He was programmed to kill me, and I hated myself. Why me? Why had I been born? I kicked the dirt, tears streaming down my face
. It just wasn’t fair. For the first time in my life, I had found a place where I truly belonged. I had found the man I loved, the man who caused my heart to flutter. I sobbed uncontrollably. We couldn’t be together without him suffering. I needed to go, but I didn’t know where.
I stood, my heart racing. I needed to leave before anyone else got hurt. I had already caused Maxime too much pain. I would hide somewhere—I wasn’t sure where, maybe live out my days in the forest, anywhere far from Matthew. And I knew I would think of Maxime every day for the rest of my life. I stood up, wiped the tears from my eyes, accepting my fate, and headed toward my cabin.
Chapter 22
On my way down to camp, I avoided everyone and rushed to my cabin.
I hastily started shoving clothing and anything else that I would need into a bag. I didn’t want it to end this way. The thought of never seeing Maxime again was more painful than any bruise or cut or stab or bullet wound. But I needed to leave so he could hopefully end the war.
I took one last look around my cabin. It had been my refuge for the last five months, and it was the first time in all my sixteen years that I felt like I had a home.
I shut the door and quietly said goodbye to my friends and the man I loved.
“Please don’t leave.” The melodic voice came from behind.
I couldn’t face him.
“Please turn around.”
I slowly turned, my heart shattering into a million pieces. I had reluctantly accepted the fact I needed to leave, and he was making my decision harder.
Maxime was leaning against a tree to keep him up. “You need to rest,” I told him.
“And you need to listen. I don’t know what David told you, but it doesn’t matter. You can’t leave.”
“Why not? Me being here is torture to you!” I wanted to run away and cry my heart out.
“No, it’s not.”
“David explained the whole program thing to me.” Tears ran down my cheeks.
“Then tell me what color my eyes are.” He slowly walked up to me and took the bag from my hands, signaling I wasn’t leaving. Through my tears, I saw his deep, cerulean eyes. They weren’t black. I didn’t understand what it meant.
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