Chapter One
Campbell
The pain is unbearable, like nothing I’ve ever felt
before. It starts with a strange tingling sensation in
my face and quickly becomes prickly, like a hundred
needles are poking into my skin.
Reed’s put some sort of spel on me, and so I can’t
speak. That’s good, I think. It will make it easier for
me to keep from screaming out in agony.
Beside me, I can sense Raine is struggling, too. I
can hear her panting and gasping as the discomfort
intensifies.
Reed is practical y screaming now, his voice
projecting and echoing out across the amphitheatre.
I can’t understand a word he’s saying, but somehow
each syl able is sending knives through my body. A
sharp pain shoots up my leg, flares up my side, and
then final y settles at my skul , where it blossoms into
a headache that feels like a sledgehammer is being
taken to the inside of my forehead.
I want to puke.
I want to get away.
But I can’t.
Raine starts jittering and dancing beside me,
screaming with every spasm.
I try to find something, anything, to focus on instead
of the pain. I refuse to move around like Raine is
doing. No way I’m going to let this audience of
sickos think they’re beating me. Especial y Reed. I
won’t let him see me react to the pain no matter how
bad it gets.
So I think about the one thing—the one person—that
I’m doing this for.
Natalia.
I close my eyes and picture her face. Those brown
eyes. Her smile. The way she looks at me when I’m
making a joke, or when she’s making a joke in
return. I throw myself back in time to when we were
together during homecoming weekend. Those few
days of brief happiness when I could feel how right it
was for me and her to be with each other.
Somehow, the pain starts to fade into the
background. It’s a relief. But at the same time, a part
of me also knows that the end is near. In a few
minutes, I’l probably be dead. I know Reed has no
intention of keeping me and Raine around. This
whole
“ceremony” is just a charade, a little show to
convince Natalia that he’s actual y trying to help us,
when in reality it’s simply the most efficient way to kil
us, while stil al owing him to come out looking like a
great guy.
I open my eyes. The sky has turned gray and is
spitting rain. Thunder rumbles and lightning splits
across the clouds.
And then my gaze is drawn to a commotion on the
stage, off to the right. There are about four guards
trying to keep someone contained. My vision is
blurry, and so I squint, trying to figure out what’s
going on. I get a glimpse of Natalia, her dark hair
flying as she thrashes her arms. She’s trying to get to
me. In fact, she almost gets free as I watch.
Somehow she knocks a few of the guards
backwards— maybe by using a spel , I don’t know.
We lock eyes. But before she can get away from her
captors, one of them raises his fist and strikes her
across the back of her head. She doesn’t see it
coming and the force of it drops her to the ground.
Then I get a look at who hit her. It’s Phelps, the guy I
pummeled the other day when he chased me
through the woods. He stares down at Nat with a
happy grin, like he just hit a homerun at Yankee
Stadium.
Reed looks over at them, distracted. He sees what’s
going on, and it seems to flummox him a bit. He
hesitates for a moment, and when he does, some of
the crackling energy is sucked out of the theatre. A
murmur ripples through the crowd, as everyone’s
attention is diverted to what’s going on at the side of
the stage.
I look back at Natalia, my stomach contracting with
dread.
What if that idiot kil ed her when he hit her?
She’s lying on the ground in a heap, not moving, and
Phelps is stil grinning down at her. It occurs to me
that maybe I’m going to die, but there’s no way in hel
I’m going to let them hurt Natalia. Of al the things
they could do, that’s the last thing I’l accept.
But what can I do to
Lesley Pearse
Taiyo Fujii
John D. MacDonald
Nick Quantrill
Elizabeth Finn
Steven Brust
Edward Carey
Morgan Llywelyn
Ingrid Reinke
Shelly Crane