Savage Run

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The sound of the start pistol brings me right back to that moment when Gemma was shot. And suddenly all I can see is her lifeless body lying there, slaughtered like an animal.

"Joseph!" I hear Arthor yell. "We have to go!" He pulls me by the elbow and I shuffle unwillingly after him. What am I doing here? I don't belong here. It was a huge mistake to come here and now I'm suffering the consequences of my actions. There's no way I can survive these obstacles and I was stupid to think that I have a chance. In the end, my father was right: I'll bring shame to our family's name.

"Joseph! Snap out of it! We have to go!"

Suddenly, my cheek stings and I'm back at the start line with Arthor. I don't know how long I've been away, but every last contender has left. 

"Get your act together, Joseph!"

"You slapped me?"

"And I'll do it again if it makes your feet move!" he says, shaking me.

I snap my arm away from his grasp and dash down the wide, rocky pathway—not so much to start the marathon, but more to get away from him—both because he slapped me and I don't want to run next to him. Soon he catches up to me, though we don't speak. I'm running so fast that we're panting.

My legs are strong from having biked up the steep mountains in Culmination all these years and my anger from Arthor's slap, combined with all that has happened over the past twenty-four hours, feeds my speed. My heart rate finds a steady rhythm, and as I continue to move ahead, inching closer to the last contender in front of me, I feel warmth spread through my body and beads of sweat gathering on my forehead.

Why am I doing this? When I planned this, it was to gain my freedom, yes, but it was mostly to help Gemma escape. At least that's what I've been telling myself all along. However, if I'm completely honest, she never asked for me to get her out of there. I just assumed it was for her best interest. I knew best. But I didn't. I didn't know anything at all. So why am I doing this?

I pump my arms and move my legs faster, passing a few of the other participants. Nicholas's question pops into my mind. What is the first thing I want to do? If I survive, I will have to answer that question. And more. What are all of the other things I want to do? I realize Nicholas's question was exceptionally well placed. He must have known how down I was—how much I was struggling—and that I needed that question to move myself forward.

Arthor is the first one to break the silence. "Sorry I...slapped you. I didn't know...how else to get...your attention." He's sucking wind.

I know he did it to get me going, but I'm still upset. Besides, I really wish he would figure out that running alone is the best and safest option. Do I have to spell it out for him? Maybe if I try the opposite and run a little slower, letting all the others pass, Arthor will get tired of waiting for me and move ahead with the others. I slow my pace, but he keeps on me like a pesky mosquito. I speed up, but again, he's right there with me. Finally, I run as close as I can to the barbed wires lining the edges of the pathway, thinking, surely, he won't follow me there—or at least he'll say something. But no.

Doesn't he get that if one of us sets off a landmine, we'll both be blown to bits? Doesn't he see that absolutely no one else is running together? They all seem smarter than this.

I hold my tongue a while longer, and instead of continuing to mull over how upset I am at Arthor, I scrutinize the ground, searching for clues as to where the landmines are hidden. Then, I remember that there are shortcuts. But what shortcuts could there be in a marathon? Maybe there's a safe zone, a part of the path containing no landmines. I decide to look for the safe zone—maybe then I could keep running with Arthor.