Morgan Rice - Arena Two

Before I can figure it out, before I can strategize, suddenly, all hell breaks loose.

I feel something hard hit me on the side of my arm, and I wheel around to see that the hundreds of spectators are throwing rocks at us. Luckily, they’re far enough away that most of them miss. But a lot of rocks are landing close, and a second rock hits my leg. It hurts like hell.

Panic ensues. All around me, the dozens of kids gathered in the center begin to sprint for the bridges. They take off in all four directions, for the four equally spaced bridges around the circle, and I spot Bree begin to run with them. I reach out and grab her.

“No,” I say. “Stay here.”

I can see on Ben’s face that he wants to run for it, too.

“But you heard him!” Ben says frantically. “We have to make it to the mainland. We have to beat the others!”

“No!” I yell back. I look over and see Flo standing still in the center, holding Charlie by the shoulders. I hope she knows what she’s doing.

“But the rocks!” Logan yells, dodging one that narrowly misses his head.

Before I can respond, suddenly, I’m tackled hard from behind, and find my face planting on the ground.

I spin over to find one of the teenagers on top of me. He holds a rock up high over his head, a large, sharp rock, and begins to bring it down for my face. It is the boy from last night. The one that wanted to sleep with Bree.

He has me pinned down, and I can’t react in time. I flinch, as he brings it down.

Suddenly, right before he kills me, he stops in midair. His eyes open wide, frozen, and he collapses, limp, to the side.

I look over, and see a sharp rock jutting out the back of his neck, blood oozing from it.

I look up, and see Flo standing over him, scowling down.

“Now we’re even,” she snaps.

I can’t believe it: she has just saved my life.

All around me in the chaos, not only are kids running for the bridges, not only are rocks flying in every direction, but also a group of kids has decided on another strategy: to kill the others.

I see one kid grab another from behind, and hurl him over the edge of the cliff. I hear him scream as he goes flying over, shrieking to his death. This same kid is grabbed from behind by another, and hurled himself. With another shriek, he plummets.

On the far side of the circle, I see another kid attacking others from behind; he kicks one hard in the back and sends him over the edge.

Another kid grabs a rock and smashes another kid in the back of the head. He collapses.

Now I realize that Flo was right. Stay in the center. Far from the edge. It makes sense. But why not run for the bridge?

I look over and see Flo lying face first on the ground, holding Charlie down. Before I can figure out why, another rock whizzes by my head, and I turn and realize the crowd has circled around, found a place that is in closer range. Now, tons of rocks hurl by us.

“Get down!” I scream at the others.

Bree is slow to react, so I reach out and grab her and pull her down in the dirt. It is lucky timing: a rock whizzes by where her head was moments ago. Logan grabs Ben and pulls him down, saving him, too, from a large rock aimed at his head.

I look up and see that one of the mercenary kids, having just hurled another kid off the cliff, turns and sets his sights on us, in the center. He charges, and I see he has his sights set on Bree.

I don’t wait. Even though rocks are whizzing overhead, I grab a large rock, stand, and charge him. I want to meet him mid-charge, before he gets anywhere near Bree. We charge each other, head on, and he swings his rock right for my face. I duck, and at the same time, smash my rock into his gut.

He drops to his knees and I smash his nose, breaking it. He collapses.

I feel footsteps charging me from behind, and realize, too late, that I left my back exposed. I turn just in time to see another one charging me and about to bring a rock down on the back of my head. I can’t react in time.

Suddenly, I hear a whizzing noise, and just as I prepare for the blow, instead I see the boy fall beside me. I look over and see Bree standing there, and realize she has thrown a rock with perfect aim, and hit him square in the head. It was a hell of a throw, and she saved my life. I’m impressed.

I run back over to Bree and hit the ground beside her.

The spectators cheer and scream, as they continue to throw rocks our way. Their scream morphs into an excited roar, and I look up and see the first group of kids has reached one of the bridges. A dozen of them stampede one of the rope bridges, all charging at once. They run across it single file. Soon they are halfway across, the bridge swaying wildly.

At the midway point, one of them gets the idea to attack the others; he grabs one kid from behind and throws him off the bridge. He plunges to his death, screaming. The bully grabs another one and tries to throw him – but this kid grabs the edge of the railing as he goes over, then reaches up and grabs the bully’s ankle and yanks him off with him. Together, the two of them go plunging down, screaming, to their deaths.

The dozen or so kids left on the bridge continue to run across it, getting close to the other side, to freedom. The spectators throw rocks like crazy, now aiming at them. One kid gets hit so hard that he loses his balance and falls plunging off the bridge.

But the others are making good time, and it looks like they’re going to make it. I can’t believe it was that easy. Was Flo wrong? Should we have went with them?

Then, everything changes. The crowd parts way as a group of slaverunners marches up, holding torches. Without hesitating, they hurry forward and set the rope bridge on fire. They then hurl the torches to the far side of the bridge, setting it on fire from both sides.

In moments, the rope bridge, destabilized, on fire from all directions, swings erratically. It is horrific. There is nowhere for these kids to go. Flames rise in both directions, and some of the kids are already on fire themselves. They scream and yell, trying to get the fire out, running over each other. But it is useless.

One of them jumps off the bridge, choosing suicide. Others try to put out the flames, but suddenly, the bridge collapses. The 10 or so of them left go plunging, all in flames, all screeching, down to their deaths.

The crowd cheers like crazy.

Flo was right. Her advice saved our lives.

I look over at the other three bridges, and now I wonder. A dozen kids are already charging onto one of the other bridges. They race onto it, stumbling over themselves, seeing who can get there quick enough.

But as they are halfway across, something goes horribly wrong. The ground is slipping away where the bridge was attached to the landmass. Roots and dirt go crumbling, then suddenly, one of the two ropes snaps.

The bridge swings wildly side to side and the kids all screech as they try to hold on. A few of them fall off.

Then, the other rope snaps. The bridge, attached only by the far side, goes swinging wildly, heading towards the cliff wall. Whichever kids manage to hang on go flying at full speed, smacking right into the wall. It is a horrific sound of breaking bone.

They drop like flies, plunging to their deaths, no one left.

All that remains of the bridge is a long line of rope, attached at the far end, going straight down the cliff. The crowd roars.

I look over at the other two bridges and wonder what could be in store. As I watch, a dozen kids race onto it, running at full speed, trying to cross. But they have just witnessed what happened on the other two bridges, and now they’re not so sure – they hesitate, stopping halfway, debating whether to go back. Some of them rush forward, stampeding the others, while others try to run back.