EVO Nation Series Trilogy Box Set

by K. J. Chapman

  “He’s right,” Bo adds.

  I’m impressed by him. “Where did you learn this?” I ask.

  “I used to box as a kid,” he says, shoving my hands back into position. “I had to protect myself.”

  “From your Dad?” I adopt the correct stance.

  “Yeah, from the old man. Now, I’m a cage fighter. There’s good money in it, and what can I say? I enjoy hitting stuff.”

  I smile, and he staggers backward, gripping at his chest.

  “Bloody hell, your face didn’t crack. Are you ready to go again?”

  I flex my fists and take a deep, composing breath.

  ***

  I drop to the floor exhausted and sip greedily at my half bottle of water. Bo quickly grew bored of our sparring and took to the corner to sleep. Cooper kept pushing me, adamant that I’d be a pro by the time we’d finish. He has winded me three times, and belted me around the head more times than I can remember. My cheeks burn from his handprints, but I feel more positive than before.

  Sweat pours from me. I remove my ripped sweater, so I’m left in the sweat stained t-shirt I borrowed from him at headquarters. He eyes the scar on my arm.

  “In my line of work with the E.N.C you’d have thought I’d have taken at least one bullet, but no, I’ve never been shot.”

  I scoff at him. “Lucky you.”

  “A bullet scar would do wonders for my rep,” he says with a little more sincerity than I’d like. “I got stabbed, though. Right here,” he says, pointing to the stretch of skin between his neck and shoulder. A small, white scar lines his back. “The guy went bat shit. How was I supposed to know she was married?” He nudges me with an elbow.

  I laugh out loud this time, and he joins in.

  “Look at us two. You could be mistaken in thinking we’re friends,” he says, still laughing.

  “I am your friend, Coop.”

  Armpits makes his way down the stairs with a black bag. My stomach lurches into my throat, but I won’t panic. Cooper reckons I can at least catch them off guard enough to use my blade on them. If Armpits is solo, I know I can.

  He reaches inside the bag and tosses soft apples into the cell. Cooper catches his and Bo’s, but mine hits me in the side of my head. Armpits laughs at me, giving me a twisted look before heading to the other cells.

  I take a bite of the over- ripe apple. The inside is grainy and holds little juice. “I’m going to kill him first,” I say to Cooper.

  He takes a huge bite. “Not if I get there first. Just remember what I taught you if that slimy bastard comes for you tonight. I wish I could see his face when you kick his ass,” he says through a mouthful of apple.

  “Stop talking like you’re not coming back. Promise me something, promise me that right before your fight you’ll tell yourself that you’re not ready die.’

  Cooper launches his core out of the cage. “I’m not ready to die,” he says, quietly.

  I nod. “Okay, now tell yourself that you don’t deserve to die.”

  He scratches at his beard and shakes his head.

  “You don’t deserve to die, Cooper.”

  ***

  Plaster falls from the ceiling as feet thunder above us. The rumble of hundreds of mouths chattering, laughing, and generally having too good of a time, seeps through to us in cells. It’s sick, considering they have come to witness a murder.

  All I can do is pace from one side of the cell to the other, chewing my nails down to the quick. Bo watches me from my spot on the floor.

  “Stop eyeballing me and talk to me, distract me,” I say, wringing my hands together.

  “Sit down for a start,” she says, tapping the floor beside her.

  “What do you know about the fights?” Cooper asks her.

  I’m not one hundred percent sure that I want to know what I’m about to endure, but maybe we can use the information to our advantage. It’s better to know than to imagine, I suppose.

  “From what my guys found out, they parade us around the cage like total dicks before they fight us; creating atmosphere or some crap.”

  “They fight us in a cage?” I ask.

  “That’s what they call it. Have you ever watched that game show, The Cube? Well, it’s like a massive cube. Some reinforced, bullet proof, plastic stuff. Even fire doesn’t leave a smudge.”

  Bile rises in my throat and I swallow back the vile taste. “Okay, I think I got it- bunch of assholes- I’m in a cube- I’m going to die.”

  “You’re not going to die,” Cooper spits through his teeth. He gets to his feet and picks up the pacing where I left off.

  Light floods into the cells from the top of the stairwell. A rowdy noise accompanies it, and my skin goose pimples. I stand at the bars, gripping the cool metal until my knuckles turn white. Armpits and Goatee descend, dressed in the same black suits and ties. Both wear headsets and carry what appear to be grabbing sticks- the kind old people use to pick up items from the floor. They grin as they saunter passed.

  I’m barely breathing. I turn into Cooper and hug him. He stands rigid, second guessing whether to push me away or not. I don’t care. I bury my face into his grimy vest and cling on for dear life.

  “Remember what I said. When you get into that cage, tell yourself that you’re not ready to die and mean it,” I say.

  Cooper lets go of my arms and stands elbow to elbow with me at the bars. “You’re going to survive, Teds, and when you do, make sure you kill those bastards. Remember everything I have taught you.” He’s changing the subject. I know he’s thinking about Leah.

  “Coop, you need to stop blaming yourself for Leah’s death. She was sick, and I know that when someone is in that situation the only person who can help them is them. You did what you could. You were a good brother.”

  He snorts, avoiding my eye contact. “How’d you work that one out?”

  “If I had a big brother, I would have wanted him to be just like you.”

  Words fail him. For the first time since I met him, I see Cooper tear up. He lifts me off my feet, returning my hug from before.

  Armpits walks toward our cell, dragging two men behind him. The things I thought were grabbers are actually some kind of leads. They are clipped to the collars on their necks, and the men choke against the force on their throats. I wasn’t expecting such weedy, broken shells of men. One of them smashed someone’s head in with his bare hands, but I couldn’t tell you who. Neither looks physically or emotionally capable.

  Goatee steps into the cell with his gun poised and two leads of his own.

  “You didn’t say I was fighting the woman,” one of the men says. “I can’t fight a woman.”

  Goatee holds his gun in my face as he unlocks the cell. “This one can hold her own. She’s a Telekin like you,” he says, attaching the lead to my collar. “You should have thought about that before you brained that dude.”

  I share a tentative look with Cooper, possibly the last we will share, and Goatee clicks his lead into place. He yanks on the rods, causing Cooper to stumble. I grab his elbow before he hits the floor, and in one swift blow, I’m smacked in the face with the gun.

  Armpits snickers as I fall back against the bars, my cheek splitting from the impact. Cooper lunges for Goatee, but a gun is wedged under his chin.

  “Watch yourself, Pyrokin,” Goatee sneers. “You’ll still have to fight the Energy Aura… even without knee caps.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The four of us are huddled into a box room. The sound of music carries in from outside, and a couple of random people have popped their heads around the door, desperate for a glimpse at the ‘freaks’, as I heard one woman call us. A chain connects our collars to thick, metal hoops on the wall. We’re literally their dogs.

  One of the men, the Energy Aura, stares straight ahead, zoning out, or zoning in depending on how you look at it. The other man sobs into his hands.

  He catches me watching him. “This isn’t right. How can human beings do this to other human bei
ngs? EVO or Non- EVO shouldn’t matter. How can they make us do this? How can they watch us do this?” He is seriously distressed, ranting like a crazed man. “I have a wife and kids depending on me. I never got to say goodbye.”

  “Shut it,” Cooper snaps at him. The man cowers away from his outburst, burying his face in his hands once more.

  “What was that?” I hiss at Cooper.

  “You don’t need to hear his sob story. It’ll affect your fight. Don’t go easy on him, Teds. You need to kill him.”

  “He doesn’t deserve this. He has kids, Coop,” I whisper.

  “And don’t be fooled into thinking they’re his weakness. They’re the only thing keeping him alive.” Cooper grabs my chin, roughly pulling my face to his. “Do you hear me? He will kill you for them. He smashed another man’s head in, Teds.”

  I pull out of his grip, but take his hand. “I can’t do this.”

  Boss enters the room, thrusting a lead into my collar. I choke from the force against my wipe pipe, and he tugs that little bit harder as he unleashes me from the wall chains. He drags me to my feet, and Goatee enters to retrieve my opponent.

  I grab at Cooper’s hand. “I can’t do this,” I cry. This is really happening. “Cooper, I can’t do this.”

  Cooper grips onto my wrists, his fingers pinching my skin as Boss pulls at me. “You can and you will.”

  The door slams closed behind me. Boss holds both a handful of my hair and the lead to march me down a damp corridor with the crying man right on my heels. His sobs are now hysterics, and I have to stop myself looking back at him. I can’t see his face; the face of a father, a husband, a man who just happened to be born EVO.

  Boss stops shy of some doors and allows Goatee to take the crying man ahead of us. “Take him through. I’ll just be a minute.” Goatee gives him a confused look. “English is your first language, yes?” Boss asks him, shoving him through the doors.

  Pushing me up against the wall, he brings his mouth just centimetres from mine. “I know who you are, Theyda,” he whispers, his breath hot on my face.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply, desperately trying to keep the fear from my voice.

  “Rumour has it, that an E.N.C group have been bragging about finding the infamous Theyda Woodman, but lost her to a Tagging group. The government have been telling us that Theyda Woodman is one of the most dangerous EVO in the world, and not only that, she looks the spit of you… only, she’s a red head.” He lets a handful of my hair run through his fingers. “So, what do we know? We know that Theyda Woodman is in the hands of Taggers- she looks like you- the government want her as badly as my men want in your pants- and your brain activity is off the scale.”

  “So, if you’ve concluded this, shouldn’t you have taken me to the government? If they find out that you have risked—”

  “I have a funny feeling that you will survive tonight. I’m sure they won’t mind if we have a little fun with you first.” He drags me from the wall, pulling hard on the lead to choke me.

  I bump straight into Cooper. “He knows who I am,” I whisper.

  Boss grins at him, and then shoves me on.

  ***

  I’m exposed to strobe lighting, cheers, and house music. Many faces ogle me, twisted with sadistic glee. Boss forces me on through the parting crowd. Someone spits on me, and another pours beer on my head. I try to protect myself from the cups and bits of food being thrown at me, but the alcohol is stinging my eyes and making it hard to see clearly.

  The cage stands proudly in the middle of the floor; a transparent cube of plastic material, smeared with blood and god knows what else. The stark spotlights illuminating it show up every dent and scratch. This cage has seen a lot of bloodshed.

  There has to be two hundred, if not more, Non-EVO here. Both men and women cheer, chant, and shout every derogatory name they can think up in their tiny, little minds. They gather around the cage like cats around a mouse hole. I’m sick of being the damn mouse.

  My opponent stands in the cell with Goatee. His whole body trembles as he glances around at all the eager faces. His eyes meet mine, pleading with me.

  “EVO Scum!” Someone shouts from beside me, and a hand swats me around the back of my head. I slip on the burger sauce that has splattered on my leg and on the steps. The crowd roars with laughter, and Boss makes a display of hoisting me up by the lead.

  Goatee opens the door, and I’m thrown in, followed by Cooper and his opponent. Five black guns swivel on runners attached to the top of the cage. The barrels point down at us, every movement we make is matched by theirs. They’re not taking chances.

  The lights dim, so I can no longer see much save jostling bodies.

  “Who’s ready for a fight?” shouts Boss’ voice. He sounds like a WWE commentator with stupid, pumping music accompanying his exaggerated words. “Tonight’s a special night. It’s a double whammy match.”

  The crowd goes wild.

  “What the hell does that mean?” I ask Cooper.

  He shrugs, taking a protective stance in front of me. “It’s not good, whatever it is.”

  “It’s Cry-Baby and The Mute against Fire Boy and Little Miss Freak. Are you ready?” The crowd cheer him. “I can’t hear you. Are you ready?”

  The noise is deafening. Pyrotechnics alight from outside the glass, and the four of us jump away from the sides. I grip Cooper’s shirt, and he reaches back to me. Our opponents huddle together, eyeing us just as we eye them.

  “Are you ready for this?” Cooper asks.

  I shake my head. “I’ll never be ready.”

  Boss counts down from three, the collars deactivate, and a claxon sounds. I’m instantly hit with a blast to the chest. I cartwheel through the air, smashing into the side of the cage and slumping to the ground winded. The Mute, as Boss dubbed him, aims another blast of energy, but I roll aside, narrowly escaping his wrath. So, that’s what an Energy Aura does. A cloud of colour surrounds his frame much like that of an aura.

  Cooper’s hand ignites with flames. He throws a ball of fire at my attacker, but it does little save disperse as soon as it hits his aura. The colour falters a little, so Cooper launches another fire ball, setting his arm alight. The crowd cheers and boos for whatever side they’re rooting for. It’s like something out of a twisted pantomime. The Mute pats out his arm, grabbing his cowering opponent from the corner and shoving him into the midst of the fight.

  “Fight, Teddie,” Cooper shouts at me. “He can’t maintain his aura. Get him when the colour fades.” Another blast hits me, lifting me off the floor. I slam into Cooper, knocking our heads together. I desperately try to blink away the spots that dot my vision. “Fight back, Telekin,” Cooper growls at me again. He throws another blast of fire at both men. They both drop to the floor, missing it by mere inches. Cry-Baby still weeps, but he prepares himself to attack.

  “Help me get him out of the way, and then she’ll be easy,” The Mute says to Cry-Baby. His voice is deeper than I’d have thought and authoritative with it. Cry- Baby wipes his face on his sleeve, steeling his expression.

  They both attack Cooper. He’s pinned to the wall by an invisible force on his throat. Cry-Baby has his hand outstretched, and then The Mute takes over. He throws Cooper into the ceiling with such force that he slams into the runner. Cooper screams out, and blood pours on me from above. Two of his fingers land on the floor at my feet. The razor sharp runner has sliced clean through his pinky and ring finger. The crowd go wild at the first spill of blood. Cry-Baby recoils from the fingers, looking to The Mute in disgust.

  “Us or them,” The Mute shouts at him. “Do it for your kids.”

  Cooper hovers above us, grasping at his mutilated hand. A small hatch opens in front of The Mute, and Boss shoves a tray full of weapons into the cage: knives, metal chain, even knuckle dusters. I race for it, extending my telekinesis to knock the tray away from his feet, but he is too fast. He has the knife in his hand; I can only imagine what he plans to d
o with it. I throw him back into the wall, but Cry-Baby tackles me to the ground with another blast. He appears to apologise with his eyes, but it’s too late. The knife is airborne and heading straight for Cooper.

  I can’t watch him die. It’s just inches from him. I close my eyes, wrap my hands over my head, and scream. I know my telekinesis bursts from me; I hear the shatter and feel the floor shake under my feet. Screams fill the air, and I open my eyes to carnage. The cage is no more. Shards of plastic have splintered all over the floor, and some are embedded in corpses around the cage. Non-EVO run for the exits, clambering over each other, and screaming in fear- fear of me.

  Cooper lies at my feet- alive- and very much ‘unstabbed’. “The collars,” he shouts. “They’re still deactivated.”

  I grab his collar and bend the metal under the strain of my telekinesis until it snaps open. I do my own, and then The Mute and Cry-Baby scramble from the floor in shock.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” The Mute shouts, taking my hand.

  He makes a grab for Cry-Baby’s vest, but a gunshot rings out, and a bullet hits him in the chest. He falls to the ground at our feet. Another gunshot sounds out, and Cry-Baby grasps at his throat before falling on top of The Mute. Boss raises his weapon one last time.

  An explosion resounds from below. The floor beneath us shakes violently, and Boss falls before he can fire again. More screams emit from the fleeing Non-EVO. I use the distraction to duck behind a table. A hand grabs my elbow, and I whip the blade from my boot. Cooper catches my wrist with his mutilated hand before I jab it in his face. Shit the bed. I nearly stabbed the stupid idiot.

  Conjuring a ball of flames in his palm, he heats a piece of broken metal until it glows orange. He takes a few gulping breaths, and then places his severed finger stumps to the hot metal. He bites down on his other hand to muffle his cries. The smell of burning skin catches in my throat, but I ignore it. Cooper has never failed to impress me of late. It takes some balls to cauterise your own wounds.