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There Are Only Four (The Competition Archives Book 1) Page 4
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For anxious moments, I wait for the proverbial hell to break loose, but my anxiety goes unrewarded. With a frustrated sigh, my head begins its descent to Luka’s inviting shoulder, and just as my ear collides with the soft fabric of his jacket, I hear it - the whir and click of machinery deep within the belly of this concrete beast.
My heart doubles its erratic panic, and I bolt upright. I am on my feet in a second, my palms pressing against the wall. The vibrations are slight, the teetering before the plunge, but they are there, my skin bouncing against their rumbling. The maze groans an awakening moan, and the tremors spike in intensity. This is what woke me. I knew this was coming. The maze is getting ready to shift, just as it did in that first hallway earlier. My eyes tilt heavenward to where our climb disappears into the blackness, to where children cling to jagged edges on their course’s version of this impasse. They are readying to unlock their gears, preparing to alter their appearances, and with bile racing up my throat, I know that it will not be the walls shifting this time. My hand flies to my mouth, and I shuffle further back from the cylindrical structure. I don’t want to be right. I can’t be right, but with a colossal grinding of heavy machinery, the maze shifts, and the screams begin.
Chapter Six
“What was that?” Jude wakes with a start, his head leaping from Serene’s lap just as her knees jerk in shock. The maze shudders again, and Jude’s eyes zero in on my hovering form. “What is that?”
But I can’t answer. I merely stand there, a leaf trembling in the wind. My limbs shake, and terror weaves a constricting web throughout my brain. I meet Jude’s gaze, fighting back tears as both he and Serene scramble to their feet. A groan of gears punctuates the darkness, and far above our heads, a panicked scream unleashes its fear. I flinch at the sound, my whole body recoiling from the horror, and my eyelids blink their losing battle with the tears escaping their stronghold.
The distant cries wake Luka, and he is on his feet in a second, showing none of the signs of an aching body that the rest of us exhibited after sleeping on the concrete. It’s as if the boy was bred from steel, genetically engineered for adversity, and he is standing in front of me before I can even release the breath choking my throat.
His broad palms cup my jaw, and he looks deep into my watery eyes. I can barely make out his features in this dim light, but I don’t need to see to feel the horror washing over his skin. His disgust is tangible. Almost as if by instinct, he crushes me to his chest, and my face burrows into the fabric of his shirt as if I could disappear inside him and hide from the genocide above.
Another scream hurtles through the air as yet another teen falls in this synthetic night, and I jerk so hard against Luka, my back twinges. The sore muscles ignite at the movement. The sharp pain rips a gasp from my lips that is muffled by Luka gripping me further into his body. His chest heaves beneath my clenched fingers, and I can tell by the rigidness of his frame caging me to him that his shock and concern has blinded him to how tightly he grips me.
“Stop!” Jude screams into the blackness. “You’re killing them!” But the maze ignores his plea and unleashes another grind of metal against stone. “Stop! Please stop! Why are you doing this?”
“Jude?” Serene’s voice carries the same alarm as his, and I peek between the folds of Luka’s jacket to watch her clutch Jude by the shoulders with desperate fingers.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you killing them?”
Jude is hysterical, inconsolable with fear as Serene tries frantically to pull him from his mind’s precipice. Luka shifts his body toward the panicked cacophony and removes a heavy arm from my back, his other forearm still cementing me to his chest. He seizes our teammates in one powerful swipe and draws them into the safety of his encompassing embrace. I shift sideways to make room as we four collide, and within seconds, my arm intertwines with Serene’s as if our limbs are suffocating vines. Our bodies cluster together, skin pressed against skin, dread mingling with our collective breaths, and another death scream rains above our heads. There is nothing we can do to stop the carnage, but if we allow hysterics a foothold in our souls, it will get us killed.
“Jude!” I yell over the mechanic hum. “Jude, look at me.” I shift in Luka’s embrace and yank my arms free. My hands slap over Jude’s ears so he can’t hear, and I weld them to his head, forcing his gaze to mine. “Don’t listen. Just look at me.”
I can barely see him through my own tears, but he obeys. His erratic trembles lessen, and I press my palms harder against his ears as if I am trying to crack a stubborn nut.
Serene forces her body tighter against Jude’s, and Luka’s arms trap the three of us. I am crushed against his chest, and I’m thankful for this boy’s strength as yet another contestant falls from the shifting maze. I don’t want to listen to their panicked deaths. I don’t want to hear their bodies splatter against the stone, but I can’t move my hands from Jude’s ears, and so I lean against Luka, sobbing with uncontrollable fear and anger. We remain plastered together, a solitary unit in the darkness. For how long, I do not know? All I know is that the climb above our heads continues its deadly rotation, and that some of the children from the other teams will never see light again.
There is no oblivion of sleep to return to. Its emptiness refuses to reclaim us as its ignorant victims, and the hours of darkness press onward to an orchestra of machinery and death. By the time the screams cease, we are nothing but hollow shells peering out of bloodshot eyes, and I have gone numb. I can no longer feel my extremities, and the organ in my chest feels as if it has shriveled within the walls of my constricting ribs. Despite the silence, interrupted only by the occasional grinding of gears and stone, I still hear their cries. The contestants’ deaths ring on a loop in my brain, and I would be sick if it weren’t for the clawing hunger in my belly. I have nothing to sacrifice to my nausea, yet I heave small gasps whenever the shrieks in my head overwhelm me.
A click disrupts the constant hum that has plagued the air, and collectively we flinch, preparing to endure the sickening terror of what this maze intends to subject us to next, but we are suddenly plunged into pitch black as the feeble emergency lights extinguish. Before our panic can rear its vile head further in our chests, a second click snaps in the quiet, and the lights flicker back to life, blinding us with their brilliance.
My pupils recoil from the harsh assault, and I rub my eyes to alleviate the jarring pain. With a groan, I separate from our huddled pack and stand to unsteady feet, fingers clutching Luka’s shoulders for support. My spine screams in fire and brimstone at having spent the past few hours seated on the concrete, and as I shuffle toward the climb, I wonder if I will ever walk normally again.
The maze hums with machinery, and far above my head, the blocks of the rising structure collapse in on itself, forming a new path to the top. I wonder if there is a pattern to the shifting, but a darkness in the back of my mind whispers it is random. No matter how long we stand here on the ground and track the movement, the labyrinth will never reveal its secrets, and we will have to climb with no warning as to when our footholds will be wrenched from beneath us.
“We need to get out of here,” Serene says behind me, and I twist to see her limping with stiff muscles.
“I think the only way out is forward,” I say. “There is no way back or over the walls. They want us to finish the race.”
“What is this?” Serene breathes with ragged emotions as she settles beside me. “Why are they doing this? What about our parents? How could they have allowed us to participate in this…” she pauses, searching for the right word, “murder? What kind of sick bastards put children in a death trap?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, and it’s the truth. My exhausted brain cannot fathom a reason for the torture we are being subjected to in the name of entertainment. I cannot imagine people watching this and not burning with outrage. I can’t imagine my mother sitting before the viewing screens, eager to cheer my progress and witnessing this atrocity. My moth
er. I try desperately to recall her features, but my exhaustion and terror are blurring her face, and before she can materialize in my mind, Serene interrupts my thoughts.
“We have parents… right?” She questions her own statement with pinched eyebrows. “They cannot be okay with watching this. What about the government? How is this allowed?”
“Serene.” Luka rests a heavy palm on her shoulder with comforting pressure. “We can’t think about that now. We need to get out of here. That’s our only concern. We survive this maze, and then we worry about what is happening. We can’t go back; that hallway was sealed off, and these walls are too smooth and high to scale. Our only option is up, and right now, our only goal is to stay alive.”
“So we have to climb this moving section?” Jude asks.
“It’s the only way forward. Our only way out.”
“Will you try to catch me if I fall?” Jude’s eyes meet Luka’s. His question almost causes me to convulse in sobs, but I bite my lip with painful force to keep them at bay.
“Of course.” Luka’s voice does not waiver. His strength is confident and sure, and it seeps into Jude, visibly reassuring the boy. Jude nods his thanks and turns to the climb. His fists grip the protruding stone, and he is the first to begin this treacherous incline. Serene follows once he is a few feet off the ground, but I hover back beside Luka. His invulnerability never ceases to amaze me. He is the rock this team is built upon, and I know if it were not for his unwavering courage, we would be lost. I glance at his profile and study the strong set of his jaw, and realize without this boy, I would be lost.
We stand together in silence for a moment and stare at Jude and Serene growing smaller as their limbs carry them heavenward. Just as I am about to follow them, Luka’s hand snakes out and envelopes mine. His grip tightens, fingers clinging to me as if he is afraid. He does not meet my eyes, his sight remaining stoically ahead, but there is no mistaking the desperation in his hold. He clutches me as if he is trying to absorb any strength I have to offer, and with heartbreaking clarity, I understand. This brave, beautiful boy is as terrified as the rest of us; only he refuses to let panic consume him. He is forcing himself to be fearless so we don’t have to, but in these small moments with me, the girl he barely knows, he is silently asking for support, for someone to give him what he selflessly gives to us.
Without thinking, I lift his knuckles to my lips and press a reassuring kiss to his skin to tell him I am here, that I understand. He responds with a tightening of his hold, and I squeeze back with all the strength my smaller hand has before we release each other. Together we step toward the climb, and with his palm pressed against my waist, Luka pushes me up.
“Listen for the machinery,” he says with a tender warning. “Watch for movement. I won’t let you fall.”
It only takes moments for my muscles to start burning, their fibers seeming to fray and peel apart within my skin, and now as we hover far above the ground, the determination fueling my limbs begins to dampen. Sweat pours down my back and chest, and I desperately want to remove this jacket, but to do so would require me to release my hold on the concrete protrusions. One misstep, and I could plummet to a brutal death, and so I leave the heavy fabric to cling to my flesh like the groping of unwanted hands.
Contrary to my soaked skin, my mouth is parched with dehydration. The artificial light has distorted any sense of time I had, but forced to guess, I would say we have been trapped in this race for roughly twelve hours now. No one in this maze has had anything to drink since breakfast, and while I know that the human body can survive approximately three days without water, these conditions are brutal. How long before our own bodies begin to kill us rather than the labyrinth? At least this climb hasn’t shifted since we started our ascent. I suppose that is a small mercy among the chaos.
Both Jude and Serene come to an unexpected halt above, and their lack of movement pulls me from the depressing whirlwind dragging at every corner of my mind.
“We okay up there?” Luka calls from below me, his voice a ragged echo.
“I need a minute,” comes Jude’s reply. His words escape him in breathless pants, revealing how winded the thin boy is. “I just need a break.”
“That’s okay,” Luka reassures. “Not too long, though, all right? I don’t want this thing to start moving while we are still climbing.”
I lean my head against the rough structure and heave a deep breath, thankful for the small respite. Rustling comes from below and continues until Luka’s body settles beside mine. My forehead twists against the cement just enough to peer at him, and he flashes me a quick smile. It vanishes from his beautiful face in a heartbeat, though, replaced by concern.
“You doing okay?” He shifts closer and presses a palm to my clammy forehead.
“I’m too hot,” I answer, shaking my head.
“Come here.” He pulls his fingers from my skin and slips his arm under my jacket to clutch my waist. “I got you. Take it off.”
The angle is difficult, crushed between his solid chest and the unyielding concrete, but eventually I wriggle out of the fabric’s constricting hold. Awkwardly, I move the clothing to my hips and tie the jacket’s arms in a double knot. The air hits my skin in blessed coolness, and I sigh weakly. My forehead falls back to the vertical structure, and I suck in breaths as the steaming sweat slowly evaporates. Luka remains welded to me as my body cools, and when the lightness in my head finally settles, I shift my face to his.
His lips are dangerously close to mine, and my breath catches at the sight of this beautiful boy clutching me to his chest. A flash of yearning rips through me, a longing that I had met Luka in a different place at a different time. His heart is too pure for this wicked and deceptive game.
“Do you want help taking yours off?” I ask as my head lolls against his shoulder where I am vaguely aware of flesh brushing against me and not fabric. He flashes a smile and bends his arm holding onto the cement to get my attention. His skin is bare, and I realize he must have removed the jacket while still on the ground before climbing after us.
“Sorry,” he says, lowering his cheek until it presses against my head. “I should have told you all to take them off before we started. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s all right,” I whisper and look above me. My mouth opens to tell Jude and Serene to help each other remove their jackets, but they have already beaten me to it.
“Feeling any better?” Luka asks against my hair, his words rumbling through his chest to vibrate my back.
“I think so…” but a grating groan beneath our fingers drowns my words. Luka and I exchange a panicked look, and then he is shoving me, his fingernails digging into the soft skin at my waist.
“Go!” Urgency travels from his voice to his demanding palms at my spine, but the warning is unnecessary. Adrenaline floods my system, granting me the strength I don’t have, and I’m already moving. The excruciating burn of exertion returns to my muscles in seconds, but the dread festering in my gut like a rampant infection goads me heavenward. I race toward Jude and Serene as if there is safety in numbers upon this treachery, and in my panicked ascent, my clutching hands fail to consider the obvious convenience of the generous protrusion they just seized hold of.
“Look out!” Serene’s voice is wild and breathless, and my gaze instantly shoots up to meet her wide eyes peering down. She is standing on a short ledge, but that is all I see of the girl before a blast of air pummels my face. I sputter at the assault and duck to escape the wind when the entire section shifts. With horrifying clarity, I watch the block that Jude and Serene cling to jut out over my head and rotate ninety degrees, the corner punching the space my face occupied seconds ago as it rearranges its shape.
Luka’s voice rages below, but I am deafened by the sound of machinery and my own manic heartbeat. I watch as if I am no longer in my body as the climb twists on an invisible axis, my generous handhold instantly clear to me as a divider between moving sections. If Serene had not called to me
, if my face had not taken the brunt of that mechanic wind, a mass of ruthless concrete would have decapitated me, my blood raining down to bathe Luka’s blond locks in sticky crimson.
Suddenly broad hands are on my hips, pulling my frozen body away from the shifting block. It continues its rotation as I’m drawn down from the grinding danger and to a firm, comforting chest. Without warning, the rotating cube above us grinds to a halt, Serene and Jude hidden from view by its sudden restructuring. The stillness barely settles before an ominous moan purrs beneath our fingers.
“Climb!” Luka’s demand pierces my ears and electrocutes my brain, and we are moving before the echo of his voice has the chance to die against the looming walls. He shoves me, surges against my back to force me to the now sedentary block above, and just as my toes leave its safety for the next section, the wall clicks. Panic splits my brain like an axe upon firewood, and I shove my hand down to Luka out of sheer instinct. The movement is involuntary, my muscles reacting to what my other senses cannot perceive, but as Luka flies through the air, his powerful thighs launching him toward the concrete I cling to, the section below shudders and falls.
A scream rips from my throat as I watch the foothold Luka vacated seconds ago plummet at least fifteen feet before wrenching to a bone jarring halt. Catapulting without an anchor, Luka crashes into the cement beside me, his fingers clawing for purchase. My extended arm wraps around his neck and heaves him to me just as he loses his footing. His large frame slides down, but I roar a panicked rage and lock him in the prison of my hold. His jaw slams my chest as he slips, and I hear the harsh clash of teeth as he slows.