Morgan Rice: Arena One: Slaverunners

I turn right and point us north, and we race back in the direction of home, towards the Catskills. In just two hours, we will be there.

Not that I plan on returning home. I don’t. Going back now would be foolish: the slaverunners know where we live, and it is surely the first place they will look for us. I want to stop at home, to bury Sasha, to say my goodbyes. But I won’t be staying. Our destination will have to be much farther north. As far as we can get.

I think of the stone cottage I’d found, all the way up the mountain, and I feel a pang, as I feel how badly I wanted to live there. I know that one day it might make a great home for us. But that day is not now. It’s too close to where we used to live, too dangerous right now. We have to let things cool down. Maybe, one day, we can come back. Besides, there are five of us now. Five mouths to feed. We need to find a place that can sustain us all.

As we head farther upriver, I finally begin to relax, to unwind. I feel the tension slowly leaving my neck, my shoulders. I breathe deeply for the first time. I can’t believe we actually made it. It is more than I can even process. I feel the aches and pains and bruises all over my body, but none of that matters now. I’m just happy that Bree is safe. That we’re together.

I take a moment to look around, to take stock and survey the others in the boat. I have been so focused on just getting us away from the city that I haven’t even stopped to consider everyone else. I look over at Logan, sitting there, content, in the passenger seat beside me. I turn and see the others sitting in the rows behind me. Each person looks out at the water, each in his or her own direction, each lost in his or her own world.

I reach over and tap Logan on the shoulder. He turns towards me.

“Mind taking the wheel?” I ask.

He rises from his seat quickly, happy to accommodate me, and grabs the wheel as we switch places.

I climb over to the back of the boat. I’m dying to talk to Bree, and I’m also dying to talk to Ben, to find out what happened with his brother. As I head back, I see Ben sitting in what appears to be a catatonic state, staring out at the river. He looks as if he’s aged ten years overnight, grief etched into his face. I can only imagine what hell he’s been through, the guilt he must have from not saving his brother. If it were me, I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. I admire him for even being here.

I want to talk to him, but I need to see Bree first. I move to the back row and sit beside her, and her eyes light up at the sight of me. She gives me a big hug, and we embrace for a long time. She holds me tight, clearly not wanting to let go.

After several seconds, I finally pry her off. Tears roll down her cheeks.

“I was so scared,” she says.

“I know, sweetheart,” I answer. “I’m so sorry.”

“Are we going home now?” she asks, hope in her eyes.

Home . What a funny word. I don’t know what that means anymore. I once thought it meant Manhattan; then I thought it meant the mountains. Now I know it’s neither of those places. Home is going to have to be a new place. Some place we haven’t even been yet.

“We’re going to find a new home, Bree,” I say. “An even better one.”

“Can Rose come, too?” she asks.

I look over and see Rose, sitting beside her, look up at me hopefully. They are already two peas in a pod.

“Of course,” I say. “She’s part of the family now.”

I smile at Rose, and she surprises me by leaning over and giving me a hug. She clings to me, just like Bree, and I wonder where she came from, where her family us, where she was captured. I realize the hell that she must have gone through, too, and it hits home that we saved her, too. I think of an old saying: when you save a person’s life, that person becomes your responsibility for life. I can’t help feeling that somehow it’s true, that I’m now responsible for Rose, too. In my mind, her and Bree are inextricably linked.

“Thank you,” Rose whispers over my shoulder, into my ear.

I kiss her on the forehead, and she slowly pulls away. She reminds me of Bree in so many ways, it’s scary.

“What about Sasha?” Bree asks. “Can she come?”

It is the question I’ve been dreading. I take a deep breath, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. I have to tell her the truth; after all she’s been through, Bree deserves it.

“I’m so sorry, Bree,” I say, looking down. “Sasha didn’t make it.”

Fresh tears rush to Bree’s eyes, and she starts crying again, hysterical. Rose leans over and hugs her.

But after several seconds, to my surprise, Bree leans back, brushes away her tears, and looks back at me, red-eyed.

“I knew it,” she says. “I had a dream. She was visiting me. Somehow, I already knew she was dead.”

“This might cheer you up,” suddenly comes a voice.

I turn and see Ben standing there. To my surprise, there is a slight smile on his face.

I look down and see that he is holding something. Something small, wrapped in a blanket. He’s holding it out towards Bree.

Suddenly, a small dog pops its head out from the blanket. I can’t believe it. It is a small Chihuahua, missing one eye. It shakes and trembles, looking terrified.

“OH MY GOD!” Bree and Rose both scream out at once, eyes open wide in surprise.

Bree grabs it and holds it tight, cradling it, and Rose bends over to pet it, too. They both lean down, and it cranes its neck and licks their faces. They scream out in delight.

“I found it in the boat,” Ben says. “I almost sat on it. I guess someone left it. Or maybe it crawled its way on.”

I’m shocked. I hadn’t seen the dog, and now that I think of it, I realize I didn’t spend any time examining the boat at all. I look around, wondering what else could be here.

I spot all the side compartments and hurry to each one, opening them one after the other. I am surprised and delighted as I begin to discover all sorts of surprises. I open a sealed crate and am breathless to see its contents: it is packed with chocolate bars, candy, cookies, crackers and delicacies of all types.

I reach down and grab a huge bag filled with chocolate-covered jelly rings. I hold open the bag for Bree, Rose, Ben and Logan, and they each, wide-eyed, reach in and grab a handful. I then grab a handful myself and stuff my mouth, chewing one after the other.

It is ecstasy, by far the greatest thing I’ve ever tasted. The sugar rush races through my body and I feel like I’ve gone to heaven. The others wolf them down, too, eyes closed, chewing slowly, savoring each bite. All of us, ravished.

I reach back into the crate and discover bags of gummy bears and Twizzlers. I am amazed. I never thought I’d see these again. These are like gold, and I know I should ration them.

But after what we’ve all been through, now is not the time to ration anything – and for once, I let my emotions overcome my rational side. I throw the small bags to everyone in the boat, distributing them equally, and each person catches them in the air with a cry of joy and surprise. As Logan catches his, taking his hand off the wheel, the boat swerves a bit, then quickly straightens out.

I tear open my bag of gummy bears and finish the whole thing in just a few seconds, shoveling them into my mouth. Then I turn to the Twizzlers. I try to take my time with these, forcing myself to chew each one slowly. I’ve barely eaten in days, and it is a shock to my stomach, which screams out in pain. I force myself to slow down.

I spot a small fridge in the back of the boat, and hurry over to open it. I can’t believe it. It is stocked with everything from juice to champagne. The inequality of it all infuriates me: here we are, starving to death, while these fat slaverunners have been guzzling champagne. At least now it’s time for revenge.