The Arena (Ultimate Soldier Book 1) (5 page)

How could she have forgotten that human hearts held evil too? Many days, that glowing picture in her head had been all that kept her going after a particularly exhausting night or a day when she had caught nothing and the growls of her stomach added to the sounds that filled the night. When her legs ached and her head spun with the dizziness of hunger, she would call up the thought of one day being free to rest, to breathe. The thought of finding another survivor had been the hope that kept her from giving up completely on the days when she wanted to lay on the ground in the forest and let the wolves take her. It was the thread that knitted her broken heart back together on the days when she felt like giving in to the creatures that so tirelessly sought her death.

For the first time since her mother's death, Lila allowed herself the luxury of tears. Protector always said that tears were weakness, and she must be strong. Protector had never cried. Protector had wiped Lila's tears away, pulled her to her feet, and smiled that little smile that said that despite what the harsh realities of the Arena made it necessary to do to survive, Protector understood and loved Lila regardless of weakness.

But Protector, with her gentle heart that always showed through despite her strict teaching...Protector was gone. Lila had been all alone for two years. She had lost everything, and she was truly alone.

So Lila cried, for lost innocence, for dashed hopes, for broken dreams. She wept for the knowledge that even in the company of another, she was still alone. She cried because now that she had seen the blackness in human hearts, there was no going back. No longer could she hold onto her belief that life was humans against wolves―the world had gained a level of complexity that she had never perceived before. For so many years she had refused to admit to any other reality. But now, in the face of a young woman who knew the searing pain of betrayal at the hand of her own kind, she saw that the world was not so simple as she had thought. Flashes of conversations had with her mentor flashed through her head, and with a sudden certainty Lila knew her heart had denied what her mind had always known.

For a long time, Lila sat in the dark with her face buried against Seeker's shoulder until the dog whined and squirmed away, then Lila pulled her knees to her chest and curled up as tightly as she could, turning the flashlight off so that they were plunged into complete darkness. She let the tears come until her chest and head began to ache and her breath came in hiccuping sobs. She could hear the faint echo of Katie calling her name, but she did not move to go back. She closed her eyes and drew the silence around her like a blanket, blocking out the sound as she had learned to do with the wolves. Finally the calls stopped, and the only sounds were Seeker's quiet breathing and her own heartbeat. The air was cool in here, with the faintest smell of moss and wet concrete. A gentle breeze tugged at her hair as it flowed back the way she had come, drying the tears on her cheeks.

A breeze. Lila's eyes shot open and she sat up, flicking the flashlight on. The light flow of air was coming from the depths of the tunnel, not from the outside. She shone the flashlight in that direction, but all she could see was the uniform gray of the concrete walls. She jumped to her feet, shaking off the throbbing headache her tears had caused, and trotted farther down the tunnel with Seeker at her side. The floor angled slightly upward as it ran farther back into the Cliffs. This branch was dry―the stream that ran through the main tunnel came from the center branch, not this one. She had explored that one with the thought that the water must come from somewhere, but had found nothing except more concrete.

Lila's feet thudded against the concrete as she settled into a ground-eating lope with the beam of the flashlight bouncing in front of her, Seeker's nails clicking behind her on the rough concrete as the dog followed.

There was no sun to mark time in the deep darkness of the tunnel. Lila thought it was maybe a quarter of an hour later when she reached the second branch. These tunnels were even smaller than the one she was in now, each branch half the size of the parent tunnel. Lila could have reached her arms over her head and touch the ceiling with her fingertips if she had wished. Lila stood at the fork, eyes closed, waiting for another gust of air. It came from the branch to her right, which angled slightly upward. She paused, glancing backward, wondering if she should turn back. Eventually the pull of new discovery won over her reluctance and she trotted down the smaller tunnel. Her stomach growled its protest at her meager breakfast but was ignored. Her legs were still strong and this gave her something to do while she worked off her anger at the conversation with Katie. It wouldn't hurt to explore a little while longer.

The flashlight bounced with her steps, showing the way along a concrete floor that seemed different in a way that nagged at Lila but she couldn't quite place. She finally realized that it was covered in a light dusting of dirt interspersed with an occasional leaf. The air on her face was warm, a current of air that smelled of honeysuckle and pine needles. It was a stark contrast to the slightly musty smell of the rest of the tunnel.

At some point she realized that the dark in front of her was subtly changing. Flicking the flashlight off, she saw that the darkness around her was no longer complete, but rather a gray twilight that grew lighter as she kept running. There was a tiny spot of light in the ceiling far ahead that grew in brightness and size as she drew closer until she had to squint her eyes against the glare.

With a suddeness that made Seeker collide with her heels, Lila stopped. In front of her was a solid wall of rock leading upward to a jagged hole in the tunnel roof through which poured morning sunlight. She couldn't see far, but whas she could see looked exactly like the forest she knew. Tall, waving trees that sighed in the breeze that teased her hair. Trees that stood on the edge of some sort of sinkhole, at the bottom of which was the caved-in tunnel.

Gingerly, afraid to trigger another cave-in that would bring the roof down on her head, Lila stood on the edge of the rock pile and placed her hands on two rocks higher up, causing both to break free in a shower of dirt that left her spluttering and sneezing. The dirt pile was too loose for her to climb on her own, and she couldn't hang from the edge of the hole without taking the risk of bringing the whole thing down on her. She needed help
―or a ladder.

Lila sighed and scratched behind Seeker's ears as she stood at the bottom of the cave-in, out at the small bit of forest she could see. The Cliffs were impenetrable. This couldn't possibly be a way out. It couldn't possibly be this easy―or so close. It would be the greatest irony the world had ever known if she had spent her last two years within walking distance of an escape. Yes, she had explored the tunnels―but always the branches with water running through them, thinking that the stream must come from somewhere. And she had never had reason to search this far, assuming that the tunnels ended in solid rock, or smaller grates like the one she had passed through earlier.

A flash of anger burned through Lila's veins and she violently threw a rock up and out through the hole. Denial. Her whole life was one long string of denials and ignorance. And now, she had a possible escape from the life she had known―close enough to touch and yet so far away. She desperately wanted to scramble up and out, ignoring the danger, but what point was freedom if you were dead? Her years in the woods had been focused on survival. She wasn't about to throw all that away on a possibility.

But she could go back, haul the ladder here and climb out. She had enough food to last for days. Maybe Katie would come with her. In a couple hours, she could be free of the Arena, free of the wolves...

Lila stopped the train of thought short. There were far too many “ifs” to get excited just yet. It might not be a way out. There could be wolves on the outside as well. Or hostile people. No, this was something that needed more preparation than launching herself through the hole in the ceiling without a second thought.

Swallowing back the thrill of hope in her throat, Lila reluctantly turned away from the sunlight and the breeze that smelled of honeysuckle and pine. She listened to the wind sighing through the trees, steeling her heart as she turned around and set off running back the way she had come.

So Lila ran. She ran so fast that her feet ached from pounding against the hard concrete, and her breath was sharp in her chest. She ran, despite the sinking in her heart at every step that she took away from the sunlight, until the bobbing beam of the flashlight was the only illumination to guide her way. She hit the first branch, and then the second with barely a pause, tossing the backpack through the grate before sliding through. Seeker danced through in front of her and licked Lila's face. Lila managed a laugh and swatted at the dog playfully, switching the flashlight off and sliding it back into the pack.

Katie was sitting by the fire, her face blotchy from crying. She jumped up as Lila approached, wiping her nose with the back of one hand. “I thought you got lost or something,” she said, managing to make the sentence sound accusatory.

Lila was torn between sympathy and irritation at Katie's tone. “I haven't been gone
that
long,” she replied, dropping the backpack in the pile and walking over to the stream to gather more meat too cook. She could only ignore the complaints of her stomach for so long. She grabbed the pot, which she didn't fail to notice was now empty, and refilled it with the same ingredients as the night before. Setting the pot back on its rock, she crouched down next to the fire and poked it with a stick to coax the embers back to life. She sat on her heels, regarding Katie through the newly awakened flames.

“I guess I should apologize.” Katie sniffed and swiped at her nose again. The words were so quiet that Lila barely heard them.

“I guess you should.”

Katie had opened her mouth, but shut it at Lila's tone. “I shouldn't have hit the dog.”

“Seeker. And no you shouldn't.”

“Seeker?”

Lila gestured in the direction of the dog. “Hey!” She yelled when she saw Seeker in the stream near the deer meat, head half buried in the water. At the shout, Seeker's head popped up and the dog skipped away to the other side of the stream with a shoulder of venison in her mouth. Lila sighed and waved her hand at the dog. “Seeker. The dog is named Seeker.”

Katie swallowed hard and nodded. “I shouldn't have hit Seeker. I wasn't really mad at her...”

“She didn't know that.”
Sure seemed like it to me,
Lila added silently.

A fresh tear rolled down Katie's cheek. “You have no idea what it's like,” she sighed.

“What what's like?”

Katie's head shot up, her eyes red and swollen. “Being betrayed!” She cried. “Having your own friends and family turn on you for no reason. You, with your freedom and no one to tell you what to do―you have
no
idea what it was like.”

Lila thought back to how she had felt just a few short moments before. “I might have some idea.”

“Oh? How's that?”

“
Nevermind.” Lila poked at the fire again, a little too vigorously. The stick she was holding cracked and she threw it into the middle of the flames.

As quickly as it had come, Katie's anger disappeared and her shoulders slumped. She wiped her nose with one hand, cradling her belly with the other. “I'm all alone in the world, I'll never find my husband, our baby will be born in some primitive camp with no medical attention, that is if I even live long enough to have the baby...” Her voice was rapidly rising in pitch with each statement.

“You aren't alone,” Lila interrupted, before the pregnant woman could completely dissolve into the hysterics that seemed to be threatening. “What you did to my friend has no excuse, but I won't abandon you over it.” It was like the words helped to cement her own thoughts even as she spoke. “I've searched and hoped and waited far too long to give up on you just because I don't like you very much. I'm not stupid―I'm not going to throw away help just because it isn't exactly what I wanted. I will help you when the baby comes, and maybe someday we will find your husband. You can't give up hope just yet.”

“Why not? There's no reason to keep hoping.”

Lila repeated one of Protector's favorite sayings. “Hope is refusing to give up when we have no reason to believe. If you have information, it is knowledge. Persistence without promise―that is hope. As long as you live, there is always hope.” Was it just her imagination, or did Katie's skin seem paler than normal?

Katie shook her head. “You don't undersand,” she said, shaking her head weakly. “I'm living dead. A wolf bit me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Wolf fever. The wolf bite contains the virus―no one ever survives the Wolf Fever.” Katie put a hand to her head.

Lila wasn't imagining it―she was definitely paler than normal. “That's silly. I've lived in the forest for over a dozen years. If there was such a fever I think I would have caught it by now.”

“You haven't been bitten.” Katie reached down to pull up her pant leg on the injured ankle.

Lila gasped in revulsion when she saw the bite. Katie's entire ankle was severely swollen, an angry red color. The edges of the gash were an unnatural shade of gray. She jumped up and grabbed a scrap of cloth from the pile near the backpack. “I need to wash the wound again. You'll be fine.” She wet the cloth and dabbed at the wound, nausea clenching her stomach at the smell of infection. She tried to smile reassuringly, but was alarmed when she looked up to see that Katie's face was white and her hands were trembling.

“Are you okay?”

“I don't feel―” Lila moved back when Katie suddenly turned to the side and retched violently. She stepped behind Katie and held her hair back away from her face. The spasms wracked Katie's body until her stomach was empty, until finally she turned away and lay down on the grass bed, beads of sweat standing out on her forehead.

Lila placed a hand gently on Katie's forehead and realized it was burning up. Despite this, and the muggy heat of the day, Katie began shivering so hard that her teeth chattered, still sobbing weakly. As gently as she could, she used the cloth to clean away the scabs until fresh blood began to flow from the wound, helping to carry the infection away. It took several trips to the stream to wash out the cloth before the injury was as clean as Lila could get it. Katie bit her lip and whimpered as Lila worked.

“I'm sorry, I'm almost done.” Eventually Lila had to step back, knowing there was nothing else she could do. Despite her efforts, one glance at the sick girl was enough to tell her that it was unlikely that anything she could do would be enough to stem the infection. She had no medicine, she didn't even have any soap. There were a couple plants that she could find to bring down the fever, but that was it. She went to stand, intending to wash the cloth out in the stream, but Katie grabbed her arm.

“I'm going to die.”

“You are not going to die!” Lila exclaimed, squashing the thrill of fear at the thought. She didn't find another survivor just to lose her like this, and told Katie as much.

“You can't do anything. Wolf fever leaves no survivors.”

Lila was not one to allow the world to tell her that she couldn't do something. She leapt to her feet, throwing the cloth into the stream where it sat in a heap while the water rushed around it. She strode blindly toward the mouth of the tunnel, her heart pounding in her ears. There had to be a way. There was always a way. Just because everyone else had died didn't mean Katie had to―right? Maybe it wasn't wolf fever after all. Maybe it was just exhaustion, or something to do with pregnancy. The wolf bite might just be a coincidence.

But no matter how hard she tried, Katie's pale face and labored breathing showed the lie in Lila's thoughts. Lila walked back to the stream and picked up the rag, using it to clean the vomit from the concrete.

“Promise me something,” Katie whispered. She took Lila's hand and guided it to her belly, where the baby was kicking away furiously. “Promise me.”

Lila looked down at Katie's hand over hers. “Promise you?”

Katie swallowed, wincing. “Promise me that when I die, you will save my baby. Two months early―he probably won't survive, but he has a greater chance with you than with me. You have to promise me that when the fever takes me, you will get him out in any way possible.”

Now Lila felt like retching. “I'm not going to cut him out of you! I have no way to feed a baby, to clothe it, to care for it. A baby would never survive...”