Morgan Rice - Arena Two

“Brooke!” he screams.

I see the fear in his eyes as he gets pulled away from me, sucked deeper into the whirlpool.

“Logan!” I cry.

He goes down, under water, then disappears.

There is nothing but silence.

The whirlpool disappears – as if someone turned off a switch. I search the calm surface of the water.

“Logan!” I shriek.

But it’s too late. He’s gone.

I can’t believe it. Logan. The backbone of our group. Dead.

My heart breaks. But I can’t think about that now. I force it from my mind. The waters are swirling and rising, and I spin around, looking for any sign of the others. I see Bree and Charlie, close to each other, each flailing, struggling, arms up over the water. Luckily, Bree is a strong swimmer – and it looks like Charlie is, too. But I can already tell that Bree is losing strength and won’t last long. I have to save her.

I fight the current, swim over to her, the waters rising and frothing all around me; it is like swimming in a giant fishbowl.

Somehow, I manage to reach her; I grab her with one arm, from behind, wrapping my forearm around her chest.

“It’s okay, Bree, hang on.”

She is gasping for air. The waves have pushed us close to the canyon wall, and I look up and see the rope dangling down the side of the cliff. Just minutes ago, the rope was a hundred feet off the ground – but now, it’s right there, in my reach. I can hardly believe it.

I reach out and grab it, it’s the knotty rope digging into my palms, then hoist Bree up onto it. Once she’s safe, I look over and about fifteen feet away spot Charlie, who’s getting swept away in the wrong direction.

“Save him!” Bree cries.

I swim to him, fighting the currents, grab hold of his shirt, and with my last burst of energy, fight my way back, against the current, towards the rope.

I make it, and hoist him, too. Now he and Bree are both on the rope, dangling, and already beginning to climb their way up. I reach up and grab on behind them, and hang onto it, breathing hard, catching my breath. I look around, but see no signs of Ben or Flo. I wonder if they’ve made it.

But there is no time to search, or to rest on my heels. The water is rising fast all around us.

I look straight up, and see the steep climb ahead of us, two hundred feet to the top of the canyon. We have no choice.

“Climb!” I yell, over the roar of the gushing water.

Bree quickly climbs, as does Charlie, and the three of us ascend, straight up the rope. I use my feet to push off the rock face, as if repelling, and gain momentum.

Soon, the three of us are high up, a good fifty feet above the water. I’m starting to feel optimistic, that we might actually make it out of here.

And then, I hear a cry.

I stop and look down over my shoulder, and can’t believe what I see: there, in the center of the gushing waters, swimming for the wall, is Flo. Her face is etched in panic, and she reaches a hand towards me. I’ve never seen panic on her face before, and I can’t understand it: is it because she cannot swim?

But then, I see it, what has her terror-struck – and my heart drops.

A huge tentacle reaches up out of the water, wraps itself around her leg, and drags her down, beneath the water. Flo disappears, bubbling, then moments later surfaces again, gasping for air.

“Please!” she screams.

“Flo!” Charlie screams.

But we are helpless. There’s nothing I can do from up here but watch as the sea creature raises its ugly head. It is the most hideous creature I have ever seen: it looks like a giant squid, but with rows and rows of sharp teeth and a single, large eye. Its face is grotesque, some sort of freak animal that probably resulted from the fallout of the nuclear war.

It reaches out with another tentacle, wraps it around Flo, and sucks her down for good.

The crowd roars, as Flo is pulled down underneath the water, and the monster disappears with her.

I look down at the waters beneath me with a new sense of dread. If I slip and fall, I will be finished.

“MOVE!” I scream to Bree and Charlie, who stay there, looking down, terror-struck.

We all climb faster, when I hear a mocking laugh, and look straight up: the leader stands there, less than a hundred feet away, looking down and holding a machete.

“No!” I scream.

But it’s too late. He swings it down, chopping our rope.

Instantly, the three of us go hurling through the air, screaming.

I fall faster than I ever have, plunging towards the water. Before I can catch my breath I hit. My world goes dark, as I find myself plunging deep beneath the surface.

For a moment, as I struggle to catch my breath, my world goes black. I see my dad, standing there, looking down at me, hands on his hips.

“On your feet, soldier! What did I teach you? Fight back. Fight back !”

I open my eyes, still underwater, and look up towards the surface. It looks to be a good twenty feet away. I kick and swim and fight my way back up.

Moments later, I surface. I immediately look around, and see Bree and Charlie close by. They tread water, and look around, terrified, on guard for the monster.

I look around, too, and now, these gushing waters have a much more sinister feel. I know that the monster is in here with us, somewhere. Flo hasn’t surfaced, and I’m sure she’s dead, and that Ben must be, too – and that we will be next. I feel helpless. I have no idea what to do now, or where to go.

“Up here!” shouts a voice.

I crane my neck back and see, about fifty feet high up the canyon wall, standing inside a small cave in the side of the cliff, is Ben. He stands there, bow and arrow slung over his shoulder, beside a dangling rope leading up. I am amazed. Somehow he made it to the other rope, managed to climb halfway up the canyon wall, and found a little cave to hide himself in. He is a good twenty feet above the water, and safe.

I spot the rope leading up to the cave, but it is a good fifty feet away. I don’t know if we can make it there before the monster finds us.

I swim over to Bree and Charlie.

“We have to make it to that rope,” I say. “Can you guys swim?”

They nod yes, their eyes frozen with fear as they scan the water for the monster.

The three of us break into a swim, heading for the far canyon wall, for the rope. I think of Flo’s awful death, and I’m half-expecting the monster to drag me down at any moment. I swim faster than I ever have, in terror with each lap. Bree and Charlie swim just as fast beside me.

It feels like a lifetime, as I expect each moment to be my last – but to my amazement, the three of us make it. The monster never surfaces. I wonder if he’s disappeared somewhere. Maybe they opened those steel doors underwater and let him back in from wherever he came from?

I reach out and hoist Bree and Charlie up and onto the rope. I then reach for the rope myself, and pull myself halfway out of the water – when suddenly, I feel a thick, muscular tentacle wrap itself around my right leg. My heart stops.

I clutch the rope with all my might, desperate to hang on; but I am losing my grip. The thread cuts into my wet palm, and I am slipping. Finally, I lose my grip.

I go flying through the air, landing in the water on my back. The last thing I see is Bree’s terrified face, looking down, watching me. Then my world goes dark.

I am plunged down underneath the water, and as I open my eyes, I see the awful face of the sea monster, all his tentacles flailing in the water, his rows of teeth. I see a piece of a leg stuck between two of his teeth, and realize it is what is left of Flo.

The monster, flailing, temporarily releases my leg, and I waste no time: I race for the surface.