Savage Run

by E. J. Squires

  I watch him vanish behind a large bush and the second I can no longer hear his footsteps, I know I have made a mistake. We’re not part of a team. We’re individual participants, competing against each other for the cash prize, and if he were truly my friend, he wouldn’t ask me to stay behind. What would we do if we got to the finish line first? Would he let me go ahead of him? Of course he wouldn’t. I certainly wouldn’t. I need that money to free Gemma.

  A large shadow passes overhead, causing me to cower down, but by the time I look up, it has disappeared. Did it see me, whatever it was? When a deafening bird-like caw vibrates through the jungle, chills run down my spine. The creature must be gigantic—one of the many dangerous beasts for sure.

  Angry at Arthor—but even angrier at myself for having fallen for his scheme—I start limping into the jungle. The ground is covered in roots and mosses, making it even harder to maneuver with my hurt foot, but thankfully the pain isn’t unmanageable. I have no idea in which direction to go and after pushing one bush aside, there’s always another one waiting to replace it. There are no signs or clues that I can tell, and I don’t even see any of the other participants out here yet. But of course, with only a hundred or so of us left, all scattered throughout this vast area, our uniforms blending with the environment, we’ll be nearly impossible to spot.

  Every achy step I take, I become more furious at Arthor. At least he could have had the decency to just say that we’d separate and not trick me, giving himself a head start. I’m livid with him for messing with my future this way. I thought he was my friend! I would never have done that to him—he knows it—and is why he insisted on going first.

  When I push aside the next bush, I enter a small clearing. About twenty feet away, I see Arthor stuck to a large web, grunting and flexing his muscles, and he has blood on the left side of his rib cage. The web is made of chains, and the edges are anchored in the trees and in the ground. In an instant it dawns on me; he didn’t abandon me; he was prevented from coming back because he became trapped. A pang of guilt rushes through me.

  “Arthor?” I say, limping out from behind a bush. A beam of sunlight streams down upon him, a spotlight from the heavens.

  “Heidi.”

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “I set something off…a trap—a strong wind. It blew me onto this…”

  I take a step closer. “I want to help you.”

  “No! Stay where you are. If you come any closer you could end up here.”

  Hundreds of red light beams appear when I take the next step. Undoubtedly, if I touch any of them, I’ll set off whatever it is that released the airstreams that blew Arthor onto the web. “I’m going to help you.” Without wasting any more time, I look for a way in which I can get to him from above. I locate a tree that has a branch right above him, and head toward it. Maybe if I extend a branch to him, he’ll be able to pull himself up.

  “Heidi, I’m sorry for leaving you. Forgive me. I…I was trying to get a head start…”

  His confession makes me feel like the life has been drained out of me. So he did lie to me.

  “I just wanted for my parents to be proud of me.” He’s breathing heavily and his face morphs into a map of sadness. “Ever since they lost Tristan…the strong one…they know I’m different somehow…I thought if I gave them my money…they’d be as proud of me as they were Tristan.” His head falls forward and he sobs.

  I could just continue on—leave the traitor here. It’s what I should do to him for betraying me. But if I leave, he’ll never get free and the man-made beasts that roam this jungle will be attracted by the blood and finish him. There’s been enough death to last the century, and if I can help it, I want to stop anyone else from dying. “You owe me big time, Arthor, and once I get you out of here, I’m going to give it to you.” I pick up a thick, long branch from the jungle floor, and begin to climb the tree. But before I can climb up even a foot, a hand covers my mouth, and someone pulls me behind the tree. I kick and flail my arms, and scream; the viciousness has started, and I’m one of the first ones who will be killed.

  “Shhh…a dragon is scoping out the area.” I recognize the voice as Cory’s and when I stop resisting him, he lets go. I look up to the sky, and see a huge beast flying above the trees—probably the same one I noticed earlier. The dragon is yellow and has reddish-brown splotches on his body, spikes on his legs, back and head, and brown wings that look like they have claws on the ends. Its head is square with sizeable nostrils, and fan-like gills protrude like branches from his skull. With the flap of its wings, there’s a beating sound, and as it roars, it stoops into a clearance, breathing flames right in front of where Arthor hangs, setting the dried branches and twigs on fire. Arthor! Smoke rises to the sky and the smell of burned wood and vegetation breezes past me.

  “Is that all you have?” Arthor spews toward the dragon.

  The beast roars again, and I cup my hands over my ears to shield them from the piercing sound. My eyes are still glued to my friend’s face, and when he looks at me, I reach my arm toward him as two heavy tears roll down my cheeks.

  “Cory,” I whisper, even though there’s hardly anything he can do to save Arthor now.

  Cory picks up a large rock from the jungle floor. He places the rock in a makeshift sling made of vines, and hurls it. At first, I think he’s aiming for the dragon, but as the rock leaves his hand, I see that it is headed toward Arthor’s skull.

  I scream at exactly the same time the dragon roars again, my voice being swallowed up by the earsplitting sound. The rock hits Arthor in the center of his forehead just a second before the flames from the dragon’s mouth consume him.

  A mercy killing.

  The dragon seems not to have noticed that it wasn’t his flames that killed his victim, rather the rock from Cory’s hand.

  Cory grabs my hand. “Come—now!” He tugs my arm, pulling me with him away from the grove before I can fully wrap my mind around what just happened. I can’t see through the tears in my eyes; everything is blurry. I hobble after him for at least ten minutes before he stops by a stream and lets go of my hand, but the smell of flames and the look on Arthor’s face just before he died has followed me even here. Kneeling down by the water, Cory cups his hand, scoops some water into it and smells it. He takes a sip, and wets the back of his neck and hair. I stand and watch him, unable to move, unable to let go of or fully comprehend what just happened. I want to scream at him for killing my friend, but I can’t. I want to cry, but the tears have dried up.

  Carrying no sympathy in his eyes—only hardness and determination—he stands up and walks over to me. “Stay present, Heidi. If you want to survive, you can’t let what happened back there slow you down. Keep it at a distance. Once you’ve survived, once you’re out of here, there will be time to mourn.”

  I run my fingers through my hair, clasping the back of my head, and swallow again and again. Breathing fast and hard, I start to feel light-headed and sit down on a rock. Arthor. Gemma. They both sacrificed for me and now one is dead, the other rotting away under the hateful eye of her Master. My desire—my obsession to be free—cost them everything. It’s not fair. And though Arthor proved to be a traitor in the end, what really drove him was he didn’t have what he should have had his entire life: the freedom which was rightfully his. What lengths we go to—what crazy things we do—to take back what is rightfully ours, and I’m the worst of all having made everyone else sacrifice for me.

  Cory kneels down in front of me.

  “This is not your fault,” he says.

  “It is. And I hardly deserve my freedom. My father was right about me all along. I’m selfish, stupid, and worthless. I’d do anything for myself.”

  “Is that what Arthor would say?”

  “No. But look where my actions got him!”

  “Don’t believe the ugly. It’s not true. The only fatal thing is to give up.”

  “But…”

  “If you can’t let the things of the
past go, you’ll never be anything but a slave to it. Is that what you want?” His voice is harsh.

  “Just leave me alone!” I stand up and walk away. He doesn’t stop me. I storm through the jungle, whipping away vegetation, pockets of condensation making my hands and the sleeves of my uniform wet. Eight cages. Only eight. I see myself standing in one of them. It’s all that keeps me going. Keeps me from stopping to nurse my injured leg. I make my way along the stream; probably the same one Cory just sipped from earlier. Had I not been so upset, I would have thanked him for saving me.

  Along the way, I see no sign of the other participants anywhere. It’s eerily quiet, and the jungle sounds have died down, too—like the animals know not to come here. Does that mean I’m close? Then I think I see lights in the distance. An obstacle course? The cages? Swerving around the tree to get a better look, I see them. There. Eight shiny ones in a row! And there’s not a soul in any of them.

  But just as I take my first step toward them, Johnny steps from behind a tree, staring me down, beating a stick in his hand.

  Chapter 28

  “Nice performance back there,” Johnny says.

  I look over my shoulder, cursing myself for having run away from Cory. “Cory!” I spin around and sprint in the direction that he vanished. Every time my injured foot collides with the ground, I think I might collapse; my foot hurts so badly. “Cory!” Never mind if the beasts hear me; if Johnny catches me, I’ll be dead way before sundown. Running through the jungle, I slap the cool foliage out of my way, but Johnny is too fast and mauls me to the ground.

  Breathing heavily into my ear, he says, “Looks like he’s gone. Who will protect you now, Imp?”

  “Leave me be!” I twist my body beneath his and punch him in the face, but he quickly grabs hold of my wrists and braces my arms across my chest.

  “Or what. You’ll scream?” He knees me in the side, causing me to wring in pain, and then he swivels me back around onto my stomach and pulls my hands behind my back. “I warned you that this moment would come and just because you’re a girl, don’t think I’ll go any easier on you.”

  I snatch my arm out of his grip, and elbow him in the nose, but he quickly grabs my wrist again and twists it behind my back so hard that I think he’s trying to rip it off. I scream.

  “Something you might not know about me, Heidi, is that I would do anything to win the Savage Run; and don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same.”

  “I wouldn’t.” I kick and scream.

  Picking up some vines from the forest floor, he winds them around my wrists and ankles and triple-knots them. “Don’t think for a moment I’ll let you escape.” Having immobilized me, he stands up. “You say you wouldn’t do the same, but I beg to differ. You purchased a fake ID, and registered illegally for the Savage Run. Oh, and I almost forgot—you seduced a registrar which just so happens to be President Volkov’s son, and then miraculously, when it’s discovered you’re a freaking girl, you’re still allowed to participate. What’s the saying? ‘Keep your friends close. Make lovers out of your enemies.’ I see what’s going on. I have all along.”

  “I didn’t seduce Nicholas…”

  “Sure, keep telling yourself that, Imp.”

  “Listen,” I say. “I can see why you might think that, but that’s not what happened. And who cares at this point? While we’re debating, someone else is running toward the finish line, stealing the victory. You don’t want that, do you? We can race together,” I suggest. “And at the end, I’ll let you pass first. I promise.”

  “Yeah, right. Is that what you said to Arthor before you threw a boulder at his head, killing him?”

  The mention of Arthor’s name is like pouring acid on a burn wound. “He…he was going to die anyway.” A lump forms in my throat.

  “You could have tried to save him.”

  My bottom lip trembles. “It was a lost cause. I tried—”

  “—I think you could have figured out a way. You’re good at that.”

  “Maybe…but there was no time and…” I squint my eyes. “If I could, I would have taken Arthor’s place.”

  His dark eyebrows rise into two sharp peaks. “What a courageous thing to say—after the fact.”

  No matter what, he’s not going to be swayed by anything I have to say, and he’s twisting every situation against me.

  “Now—what do I do with you?”

  “You could let me go.”

  “Let you go?” He paces back and forth in deep thought. Then out of nowhere, he gives me a swift kick in the stomach.

  The force of his foot ramming into my abdomen makes me gasp and cough, as if I might expel a lung.

  “Any other suggestions?” When I’m unable to answer, he undoes the vines from around my ankles. “Get up.” Jerking my arm, he lifts me to a standing position, and starts to haul me with him into the jungle.

  “Where…are you taking me?”

  He tugs at my arms so hard that I fall face first into a mudded area. Crouching down beside me, he says, “Do I have to cut your tongue out to get you to shut up?”

  I roll over onto my side, the right side of my face covered in grime. “With what, your hands?”

  Pulling out a pocketknife, he opens it, and presses it against my cheek. “A present—from Pres. himself,” he whispers. “He has guaranteed me Master status—in whatever place I finish—if I finish you off.”

  “I thought you said you were all about honor and might.”

  “I am. That’s why I agreed to get rid of you.” He draws the blade down my cheek hard enough so it pierces the top layer of my skin.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. Suddenly I hear voices, and then the rustling of foliage as someone passes a ways away. My eyes pop open. “Help!”

  Johnny cups his hand over my mouth and hauls me with him away from the sounds. While he’s dragging me, a thought occurs to me. Since Johnny is President Volkov’s son, I might be able to use this information as a weapon to create a wedge between them. He tows me behind him until we reach a wide river. Trees and vines hang like a dome above the white, rushing waves, and the hot air is humid, smelling of flowers and fresh rain. It hurts every time I step onto my injured foot, but determined to not let Johnny know I’m in less than peak condition; I force myself to walk without a limp. He leads me over to a tree and ties me to it.

  Johnny makes his way over to the river, and splashes his face with water.

  Not having eaten the entire day, my muscles have become depleted from the lack of food and water. I look at the water longingly, but he doesn’t offer me any. When he makes his way back over to me, he stomps on my injured foot, smashing it beneath his.

  Arching my back, I cry out in agony. I’m powerless to prevent tears from springing into my eyes, and the pain is so overwhelming I’m convinced he’s broken my foot.

  “Don’t think I didn’t notice your limp, Imp.”

  It takes a while before the worst part of the pain subsides, and I manage to calm my staggering breath. If I weren’t bound like an animal, I’d find the heaviest stone I could carry, and smash in his skull. Better yet, I should have dumped him in the volcano when I had the chance.

  When I am finally able to open my eyes, I see his knife lying right beside my foot, behind a small rock. My heart feels like it will jump out of my mouth and I look up quickly so I won’t draw attention to the weapon. “Why don’t you just kill me now? Get it over with so you can claim your money?”

  “Oh, I’m just getting warmed up. You see, the most beautiful thing to watch is a little dove fearing for her life, dreading the moment when life ceases to exist. Why would I want to rush such a…delightful process?”

  “You’re sick; you know that?” As subtly as I can, I stretch my leg out and cover the knife with my foot.

  “You say that only because you don’t understand what a blessing it is to have complete power over another. Just look at you, Heidi. You’re shaking like a leaf, and I am the one who is creating that fear in you. In short,
I have become your god.”

  “You will never be my god.”

  As if noticing something, Johnny, lifts his chin and stiffens where he stands. “Don’t move.”

  I hear a low growl coming from behind me and I turn my head to look. There, in between the sea of vegetation, I see a saber-toothed tiger moving methodically toward us. “Untie me,” I whisper, my chest pounding.

  He looks straight at me and shakes his head, mouthing the word ‘no.’

  If I can just get the knife close enough to my hands, I’ll be able to pick it up and cut myself loose. Johnny’s gaze shifts back to the beast, and I squeeze my foot to my seat, dragging the knife with it. Fortunately, Johnny isn’t paying attention to me; he’s thinking about how he can escape. I pick up the knife and begin to saw at the vines. I nick my wrist, but I don’t care; I want to stay alive and a few cuts don’t matter at this point. With one final pull, the vine breaks and I’m free. Johnny must have heard the cracking sound as the vine snapped because his eyes whip to mine.

  If I can just reach the river the current will carry me away and I’ll have a chance at escaping. I shoot to my feet and head toward the water. However, my injured leg buckles beneath the weight of my body and I tumble onto the rocks. Standing up again, I hop forward on one foot, but not a second passes before Johnny lunges at me and shoves me to the watery bank, jamming my head into the shallow water so I can’t breathe.

  Still clenching the knife in my hand, I kick my arm back, and stab him in the leg. He releases my head and I lift my face out of the water, eager to take a deep breath. With nothing more than a low grunt coming from his lips, Johnny grabs my wrist and pulls it, withdrawing the blade from his thigh. Growling, he yanks my fingers back and the knife falls into a small puddle between the rocks. The moment he releases my wrist, it becomes a competition of who can get to the knife first, but before either of us can reach it, the saber-toothed tiger pounces on Johnny’s back. The tiger roars and Johnny screams. The instant I feel Johnny’s weight lift off of me, I squeeze forward on elbows and knees toward the center of the river. The tiger roars again and again and it’s as if Johnny’s cries vibrate through my blood. Once I’m up to my neck in the water, I rise to my feet, and hobble against the strong current. Not until I am waist-high in the river and I can no longer hear Johnny’s shrieks do I dare to turn around.