Calypso Initiate

Chapter Eight

The next thing I know I'm leaping, soaring from one platform to the other like a jungle cat—although I doubt I'm as graceful as one. I have to spread my arms out on both sides just to keep my balance, my headgear assisting me on calculating each jump.

The room is like a large chasm that encircles us, jagged by dozens of cemented crags leading to doors of the previous testing rooms. I loudly pray in my head that I don't fall. Who knows what's waiting in the pit below? Hard cement that could break our bones into millions of pieces? Or maybe a floor full of metal spikes ready to impale us? Or worse. I don't exactly know what but there's always something worse. I'm almost sure of it.

I hear a cry and lose my footing on my next jump. I fall onto the platform, dropping on my stomach with half my body dangling over the edge. If my armor isn't regulating my temperature right now, I'd be sweating. Even my headgear is adjusting well to my heavy breathing, bringing more oxygen in as it alerts me of my rising heart rate.

My fingers hook on the frame as I fight gravity from pulling me into the darkness underneath. But keeping myself on top of a moving platform proves to be difficult as it glides across the room with a speed that could easily fling me off to the wall. Like Vincent I am holding on with every inch of strength I can muster, and as I am taken around I miss the next step to get to the top.

When I manage to heave myself up, I hear another cry. My head shoots up in search of its owner. It's the elite rank. Vincent has managed to get a grip on his ankle and begins to pull him towards the edge. Their board drifts on the other side and I watch them battle each other to stay on it.

My visor zooms in. The boy fights to keep his stance, anchoring his other foot behind him as he pulls himself free. But his attacker is strong, and the more he struggles the more determined Vincent is to win.

My heart is pounding nonstop. I look around for something I can use to help Vincent. But the colonists are everywhere, jumping on platforms, riding them across and up. Some of them wrestle for a board, using their weapons to defend themselves from one another. If I make the wrong move I can end up face to face with any of them.

I search for Vincent again, who seems to be in the middle of a tug-of-war game with the elite rank. After much resistance, fear begins to creep up on his opponent's face, and the amount of nerves he had shown earlier abandons him completely. Vincent smiles, a greedy thirst glinting in his eyes, the kind I see in predators at the sight of cornered prey.

A chill crawls on my skin. I know that look. I've seen it on him when he hunts. Without much time to think, I move, jumping on every metal plank that leads me closer to them.

When Vincent is out there in the field it's like a switch is flipped, and he transforms into this unstoppable force ready to take down anything in his way. It's the side of him I hate. Whenever I see him this way, with all that sadistic rage ready to burst out of him, I almost don't recognize him. He doesn't stop until his target is defeated. And what scares me is how much he appears to enjoy every moment of it, taking down an animal, killing it. That same enjoyment emanates from him at the sight of the boy's cowering. It's like he feeds from it, the way a starving animal relishes the taste of fresh hunted meat.

The boy cries in panic as he swings his blade down towards his attacker, but Vincent catches his wrist with his massive hand and turns himself into a human anchor. The elite rank attempts to fight him off but anyone watching them knows he's doomed. Vincent twists the boy's wrist like it's a piece of rubber and the pain contorts his face in a strange way. The elite rank is left with no choice but to release his weapon.

It's difficult to get closer to them. Their platform is moving too. It's like chasing a speeding vehicle, moving in any direction it wants to. I jump on another plank and theirs glide towards the opposite direction.