The halls are rather alive as I manage to escape the chaos growing behind me. With the farm door now open, people pour in and out yelling and screaming. I put my head down and keep to myself, my cloak hood like a curtain blocking out the mayhem. From the few glimpses of conversation I hear during my walk home, it's clear the people are fearful of their fate here. Some chatter about Kara Cooper and if she will be locked away in a prison cell for the next five years. Others whisper about rumors of us all being stuck down here forever. I take none of it with merit - I've learned that nobody really ever knows what is going on; except the few at the top who are running the show. Back in Trikru, Indra was part of that few. And even now, down here, she remains at the top.
I arrive at my dorm to see my roommate, Ronnie, sat on the edge of his bed. He, too, once belonged to Trikru. We grew up together, slowly developing similar opinions, keeping us rather good friends throughout the years. Sometimes it feels like looking into a mirror when I see him - we share the same long brown hair, the same thick eyebrows, and the same toothy grin we often wear. Many people confuse us as siblings. I was relieved to see he made it to the bunker alive. Not because I needed a friend - I've got plenty of those. But because he is so different from the others. He could have easily succeeded as a powerful warrior, but chose not to waste his time among company like Indra and Anya and all the other hell bent fighters.
"Is what I'm hearing true?" Ronnie asks, his chiseled jaw clenched as he bites his nails.
"Depends on what you heard," I say with a deadpan tone, offering a raised brow.
Ronnie scratches the back of his head as he speaks. "Mag said we're never getting out of here."
"Mag also believes the flame possess magical powers," I joke mockingly, widening my eyes and half-singing the words.
"Yeah, but this is a real possibility." He stands, motioning with his hands. "I mean, don't you ever feel trapped down here? Nothing but stone and steel and - It's just hard to breathe sometimes."
"Jeez man. This lack of sunlight is really getting to you, huh?" I sit on my bed across from his and begin combing my fingers through my hair, alarmed at the greasiness of it. Bathing here is hard to come by. "Lighten up," I tell him through an apathetic sigh. Ronnie's not usually in need of such pep talks, which is why I like hanging around him. "There's a door to get in, so there's a door to get out. Don't overthink it."
Right as Ronnie opens his mouth to speak, our door is swung open with great force and slams against the wall. At first, I expect it to be one of my many friends who often visit me to complain about how life in the bunker has been going these past couple of months. Nobody is happy down here, especially without a true commander. I have friends in every clan, regardless of the unease between them all. I seem to bring them together to some extent, as I don't belong to any particular group.
Instead, Miller, Octavia's little pet, stands wide-stanced in the doorway, his gun strapped close to his chest. Ronnie jumps out of his bed and watches in confusion as Miller steps toward us. Ronnie glances at me, trembling with fear, but I ignore his pleading eyes. Miller stops at the edge of my bed, letting go of his gun to reach behind for a pair of handcuffs. I rise with a smirk and turn on my heels, facing my back toward the man as I extend my hands to him. I guess this is Octavia's way of dealing with me.
"You are being arrested under the command of Blodreina for your crimes against Wonkru," Miller recites, closing the cold metal chains around my aching wrists.
"Oh, is that what we're calling her now?" I say through a laugh.
"You know, if I were you I'd take her seriously. Things are looking bleak for you right now," Miller says in a low tone. His eyes look at me with pity through his dark lashes. I scoff at his threats, unafraid of whatever nonsense he is implying.
"What the hell does that mean," Ronnie questions, his face contorted in fear. He hovers near the edge of his bed, shifting his feet anxiously as he watches the scene unfold.
"Don't worry - you'll all see soon enough. Now come on, can't keep her waiting."
Miller pushes my back, leading me out of the room. Before we exit I look back at Ronnie who paces the floor like a lost puppy. After a short walk to the main community room, I'm thrown into the center and forced onto my knees along with a dozen others. Some Skaikru, some Trikru, Azgeda, and more. We kneel in a circle under a bright light as lines of people are escorted into the various levels of steel platforms around the perimeter of the room, a chain-link fence separating them from us.
The crowd hums with collective whispers and the occasional outburst of what's going on? But I have no questions - I know exactly what is happening. Octavia has lost her damn mind. I wait for further instruction and scan the prisoners next to me. As they all shift on their knees, darting their terrified eyes across the large crowd, I sit motionless as usual. The fear emanating off them all has no affect on my demeanor. The now infamous Kara Cooper kneels across from me, her body bouncing with nervousness as she rubs her palms together, frantically speaking to the Skaikru man next to her. Her name has been buzzing around the halls all evening since she overtook the farm.
Octavia enters the large room and walks across the platform overlooking us, Indra and Gaia at her side. Her presence is enough to silence the crowd.
"There's too many people in this bunker," Octavia says. Ironic, I think. Since she's the one who put us all down here. I notice the blood splatters from before are still dried to her face like war paint, making her rather gentle features appear menacing and dark. She wears the same tight black pants and shirt that fit over her slow-moving body like a glove.
"And if we don't do something about this, none of us will survive to see the sun, the sky, the ground," she continues to walk across the platform, hands at her back, as her entourage follows close behind. "And I won't let that happen."
"Each of you have committed crimes against Wonkru," she bellows, her voice growing louder and more demanding as she stops in the center of the platform, staring down at us without emotion. "And the punishment for this is death."
The once silent crowd is now buzzing with a collective outrage. I keep my eyes focused on Octavia but tune my ears into the chatter around us. Kara Cooper gasps at the realization and a man next to me mutters in disbelief. I wish they'd all shut up, because I can barely think under their fear. I've gotten myself out of even the most dismal of situations, but how will I get out of this one...
"This is nonsense! Delphi doesn't deserve to be down there for stealing blankets," someone shouts. He's lucky to be on the other side of that fence, but he won't be for long if he keeps provoking her. "Skaikru stole food!"
"There is no Skaikru!" She shouts. Everyone shuts up. Most people around me drop their heads, uncomfortable at Octavia's demanding voice. But I keep my glare glued to her, noting every curve of her lips, every heavy rise and fall of her beating chest, and every uneasy gaze she shoots toward Indra or Gaia or Abby - under her act of bravado, it's clear she's uncertain of herself. Indra nods at the girl and she continues nonetheless. "There is only Wonkru and the enemies of Wonkru. Would you like to join them?"
"What did Persi do?" I hear another blurt in outrage. I glance at the source of the sound to see countless eyes on me, their brows furrowed in a flurry of confusion and desperation. They look at me like I'm a corpse, mourning my death as though it's already happened. "This isn't fair," one of them says, and I'm glad to know it's quiet enough to go unnoticed by Octavia. They are my friends - all of them. They usually look to me for answers, but now they look to me in pity and hopelessness. I appreciate their concern, but they are only painting a target on themselves if they speak any louder.
"In Rome, the gladiators had the opportunity to fight for their freedom."
"On your feet!" Miller shouts. I watch the prisoners around me stand with hesitation, shocked at how easily they obey. I stay on my knees for just a moment longer, pulling for any possible plan to survive this. I hope that maybe - just maybe - if I stay put long enough, the others will take note and we can protest this. But, for the first time in my life, I'm left with seemingly no other option. Begrudgingly, I lift myself up, standing in a circle formation with the others. I catch a particular set of eyes on me, despairingly piercing me from the crowd - Ronnie. Deep lines of sorrow form across his forehead as he has no other choice but to watch me meet my fate. Before I look away, I nod at him as if to say goodbye. He looks down.
"And so will you. Conclave rules. Win the fight, save your life."
"This can't be happening," Kara says under her breath.
Octavia unsheathes her sword, lifts it high above her head, and drops it below. I watch it clink against the concrete inches in front of me. For a split second, I imagine myself lunging for it. What would I do with it? My mind shows me glimpses of myself using the sword to slash the people around me - their eyes pleading with mine, blood pouring from their mouths as they gasp in agony.
I would never do it.
And before I even have the chance to, Kara plunges forward, gripping the hilt of the sword and immediately slashing through the air, hitting anyone who attempts to go after her. Not one second passes before hot blood is splattered on us all, flying off the end of the blade like red rain pouring down. Even some onlookers behind the fence get painted red. Kara closes her eyes as she continues slashing the sword in every direction. She moves so quickly and sporadically that I barely have the chance to run away before the blade swipes mere inches from my face.
The close encounter brings an idea to light: play dead. There is already the blood from the others covering my face, dripping down my neck and pooling at my throat. When Kara brings the sword back into my vicinity, I get just close enough to the tip that it may appear I've been slashed at the throat. I drop forward on my face, motionless like a corpse, and glue my eyes shut. I think it works, because as soon as my head hits the concrete, a wave of gasps and a few cries of terror come from the crowd. And for the next minute, this is where I stay - dead on the floor while the rest fight around me.
I don't shut out my noisy surroundings. Instead, I tune into them. I want to hear everything. I want to gather any bit of information from the crowd or Octavia as possible. The cries of sorrow, the yelps of pain, they don't bother me at all. This violence is what most of them crave. They welcome the art of fighting. Yes, these are my friends. But that doesn't mean I am anything like them.
In the end, I gain nothing from the crowds hesitant whispers. All they say are things like what does this mean? And whose idea was this? Their questions stop abruptly and so do the sounds of death - there must be a victor.
"Congratulations, Kara. You have fought your way back into Wonkru," Octavia announces. The crowd is silent. "Let this be a warning to the rest of you. You are all dismissed."
I listen as the crowd exits around and above me. The platforms jingle with each step of the hundreds and hundreds of people. Nobody speaks, not even a whisper. They are probably too shocked to think. Or too afraid of Blodreina to make the wrong move. My hair wisps in the wind Kara's steps create as she walks past me and out of the pit, her movements slow and heavy. She drops the sword before she exits and the concrete carries its sharp noise. I almost flinch at the clang of the metal against the floor, but stop myself just in time. I am not sure if anyone is watching me, and I can't open my eyes to check. But soon, all the footsteps dissipate until only a few remain.
"Miller, Gaia, collect the bodies," Octavia says, her voice fixed in the same spot as before. "Bring them to Level B and remove any clothing that can be of use to us."
"Wait," Indra chimes in, her voice cutting through much stronger than Octavia's. "Gaia only. I'll need Miller to help me escort you back to your room."
"I don't need help walking to my room, Indra," Octavia retorts. Their voices echo above me.
"We don't know yet how the people will react, if at all, to what they have just witnessed. It's best you have two guards for now."
It's silent in the large room.
"Fine," Octavia agrees, immediately followed by a scurry of footsteps leading toward the exit. "Gaia, make it quick. We have things to discuss."
"Yes, Blodreina," Gaia's voice is close. She must be entering the pit.
Octavia's footsteps quickly disappear and I believe I am alone now, with Gaia and the dead. Gaia's hands grip my arms, digging deep into my skin as she rolls me onto my back. When I open my eyes, she gasps, and I can barely make out the contours of her face - twisted in shock. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim lights of the fighting pit.
"Persi!" She whispers with force, spitting my name out with pure aggravation. The fleeting flash of horror on her face shows her disbelief to see me alive. She jumps up to stand, looking down at me as her braids cascade over her shoulders. I dart my eyes quickly across the room to be sure nobody is here. "Are you insane?"
"Are you?" I throw back at her, lifting my torso and resting my weight on my forearms as they press against the cold concrete. I crane my neck to each side, loosening the ache from laying here so long. "You guys are running a fucking circus in here."
"You guys?" She questions, peering down at me with high brows. She glances at the door to ensure we're safe and lowers her voice. "This is Blodreina's doing. I'm simply following orders."
"Bullshit," I say, letting the word linger for a moment. I pull myself up into a sitting position. "I know how your mother is. She's smart. Sneaky. Pulling the puppet strings just like Abby Griffin."
Gaia begins to open her mouth to protest, but stops just before she can make a sound. She closes her mouth, clenching her jaw and pursing her lips together. She stands still above me, eyeing me with a searching expression. Maybe she thinks of our past. Our long history back home at Trikru. How I fought against her mother for years. How I saved her life one night.
"I don't ask for much, Gaia. In fact, I've never asked you for a goddamn thing," I say, looking up at her through my lashes. Her face begins to soften as she watches me speak. "So please. Get me back to my dorm and I won't tell them you helped me."
"Absolutely not," she responds, shaking her head although she seems genuinely torn. Gaia has always worn her expressions fully, never holding back. She couldn't be more different than her mother. "If Blodreina sees you alive, you'll be right back here in the fighting pit. And this time she'll make sure you die."
"I'll disguise myself."
"For five years?"
The weight of the situation silences us.
"There's no way out of this, Persephone. And as much as I've resented you over the years, I never wanted to see you end this way."
"Well, you didn't do much to stop it either, huh?" I let my voice cut through her. I want my words to haunt her if I truly do die here today. "You know I don't fight. Putting me in this pit meant certain death and you know it."
While what I say is true, my emotions are exaggerated. If I can use Gaia's empathy to my advantage, I just may get out of here alive.
"Don't blame me for this. You defied Blodreina. You're lucky to have lasted this long," Gaia says defensively. She takes a breath and returns to a quiet tone. "Things will be easier when you are dead. You cause too much of a disruption, just like back home."
"I'm not causing anything, Gaia. The people are already wary of you. Of Octavia and her entourage. There's been a growing opposition since the day we walked into this bunker," I tell her. I think back to all the friends I've made here. How they seem to cling to me for guidance. Call it popularity, call it charisma, whatever it may be. This seems to grab Gaia's attention. "I know things nobody else knows - because people come to me to talk. They trust me. They do not trust Octavia. Especially not Blodreina."
She's silent, but in the flicker of her deep eyes, I can see her mind begin to wonder. I may be able to talk myself out of this predicament after all.
"So you have two options, Gaia," I tell her as I slowly rise to my feet. I take a step toward her until I'm inches from her face. Her eyes dart across mine and I begin to whisper. "You can help me find a way out of this. Or you can take that sword and look into my eyes as you slit my throat, killing the very person who saved your life all those years ago."
We stand frozen for a long while. The unique glow of her eyes reminds me of home. Of our entangled past.
Finally she speaks.
"Fine," she agrees. "I'll help you. But not because I owe you."
I cock my head in intrigue.
"Because we need you."