Lockdown

THE ARENA

I WAS IN A STATE of shock for the rest of hard labor, hacking at the wall without knowing what I was doing while my exhausted mind tried to picture what was going to happen later that day. I knew all about the gym, about the bodies they dragged from there, the Skulls and Fifty-niners who came out grinning with bloody knuckles and bloodstained shoes.

I was no fighter, they'd throw me to the wolves and I'd be eaten alive. Why now? Two more weeks and maybe we'd have been out of here, riding a river to a fate other than Furnace. Instead I was going to be slaughtered by an ugly psychopath with a taste for murder.

While we worked Donovan tried to teach me everything he knew about self-defense, telling me to go for the eyes and the throat or the groin. But even the thought of it made me feel queasy. Admittedly I'd sent Ashley tumbling to his death less than two weeks ago, but that had been different. I had taken a life to save a life, and it wasn't like it had been a proper scrap or anything. Against the Skulls I'd fold like paper.

We met up with Zee and Toby in the yard. They'd both been on kitchen duty, smuggling another batch of gloves up to the cell, and were desperate to know how we'd got on that morning. They only had to ask a couple of times before they saw something was wrong.

"We lost them, didn't we?" guessed Zee. "The gloves. I know it."

"The gloves are fine," said Donovan. "Got them in place no problem."

"Well, you obviously weren't caught," Zee went on. "What the hell's wrong?"

"Them," said Donovan, nodding toward a group of Skulls heading to the gym. "They've challenged Alex to a skirmish, tonight."

Zee's face fell.

"They'll kill you," he said. "Alex, you can't do it."

"He doesn't have a choice," Donovan went on. "I've seen this happen a million times. If you don't show up when you've been marked, they come after you and stick a shank in your back."

"Well, we'll hide you then."

"Where?" I snapped. "The garden shed?"

We held our tongues as a blacksuit strolled past, his eyes glinting with an evil smile as if he knew I was toast.

"Whatever happens," I said when he had moved on, "the plan goes ahead. Even if I die in there, you know what to do, right?"

All three boys looked reluctant, but they nodded.

"You never know," I added. "I might win."

This time, nobody responded.

IT HAPPENED so quickly. I thought that time would slow down, the seconds so heavy with fear that it would take each one hours to pass. But one minute I was sitting in the yard talking to the boys, the next I was yanked off my seat and practically dragged across the stone toward the gym. I fought against the two Skulls who held me, but they didn't even flinch from my pathetic blows. What good was I going to be in the arena?

I heard a familiar voice by my side and saw Donovan walking with me, telling me just to go with it. We reached the door, manned by a Skull and a Fifty-niner, and I was shunted inside, tripping over my feet and landing hard on the floor. I thought for a minute that they were going to stop Donovan from entering, but I soon felt his hand under my arm, lifting me back onto my feet.

Ahead of me lay the gym, roughly half the size of the trough room and filled with various pieces of rusting equipment-weights, benches, even an ancient-looking exercise bike. The kit was arranged in a rough circle around a ring of bare floor that looked a much darker shade of red than the rest of the room.

What shocked me most about the scene was the sheer number of people packed into the small space. Most had Skull bandannas or painted cheeks, and were sitting on the equipment waiting for the show to begin. Others had no gang markings and crowded around the back of the hall, nudging each other for the best view. There must have been fifty people in there, all waiting to see my blood spill.

I spotted Gary when he jumped off a bench into the circle, his arms raised as he addressed the crowd.

"Little man come to show us how tough he is," he shouted, then he turned to me. "Get in here."

"Eyes and throat," whispered Donovan. "Just don't go down. If you stay on your feet you might get through this."

Easily said, but my legs already felt on the verge of giving out. I walked slowly to the edge of the circle, trying to ignore the whistles from everyone around me. Gary walked up until my eyes were level with his chest. He bent his head toward me, his quivering blond lip-hair spattered with spittle.

"Poor little man," he said. His face was expressionless, as it always was, but when I looked him in the eye I saw something moving in there, something primeval that swirled and swooped in the darkness of his pupils. He turned away, back to the audience. "Who called this challenge?"

Three Skulls leaped into the ring. I recognized them immediately as the ones I'd fought before in the canteen, the ones whose friend had been chewed to pieces by the warden's dogs. For a second I managed to snatch a ray of hope. If it was just these three, then maybe I did stand a chance. I'd given as good as I'd got the last time I faced them.

"All yours," Gary said, starting to walk away. Then, without warning, he spun around and punched me square in the jaw. I felt like my head had exploded. Fireworks burned my vision as I fell back, their color giving way to shadow as I fought to stay conscious. The blow had been like a sledgehammer, I could barely even remember where I was.

Somehow I managed to stay on my feet. I shook my head, clearing my vision in time to see Gary walking back to the edge of the circle. The three Skulls moved quickly to fill the space, the first running at me with his fist raised, ready to strike.

I stepped back, arms held up to block the blow, and more by luck than anything else I managed to weave out of the way. The momentum of the missed punch carried the Skull past me, flying into the crowd, who turned him around and pushed him back. The second thug advanced, feigning a strike to my face but changing his angle of attack at the last minute and raising his fist into my gut. It hurt, but he'd missed his target and I wasn't winded.

Fueled by adrenaline and fear, I lashed out, my fist scraping the side of the Skull's head. Before he could recover I struck again, this time connecting more firmly. I wasn't sure whether it was my knuckle or his nose that broke, but he reeled backward clutching his face. I went to finish him off with a kick to his stomach but before I could I felt something slam into my lower back. I tried to turn but the pain came again as one of the Skulls rammed his fist repeatedly into my kidneys.

I shouted, looking into the crowd to see Donovan stepping forward. But the inmates blocked his way, a wooden shank held at his neck to ensure he didn't break the rules by entering the ring.

I swung an elbow around, missing my attacker but forcing him back. I'd only been fighting for a few seconds but already my energy was fading, my limbs seizing up. I screamed, then threw myself at the boy, arms wheeling like a toddler in a tantrum. He raised his hands to defend himself and I took the opportunity, kicking him hard between the legs. A collective groan rose up from the crowd as the kid collapsed.

Spinning around again I saw the last Skull run toward me. I jabbed my fist at him but he was too quick. The punch missed and he grabbed my arm, twisting it until I was bent double. I saw a shadow approaching from behind, the strike almost shattering my spine. My legs buckled and I collapsed onto my knees. Another blow caught me on the back of the head and I sprawled forward.

If I didn't get up I was a dead man, but every time I pushed myself off the ground a foot sent me crashing down again. After a couple of attempts I gave up, curling myself into a ball as the kicks rained down. My head, my back, my stomach, my chest, nothing was out of bounds. They landed everywhere, each sending a bolt of pain through my body until it seemed like every part of me was broken.

I felt like I was sinking into the ground, blackness creeping over my vision. I heard the jeers and the cries as though through a coffin lid, muffled and distant and growing increasingly faint. I risked one last look at the arena, seeing past the blurred legs to Donovan. He had moved around the ring, and was pleading desperately with Gary. The psycho wasn't listening, he wouldn't take his eyes off me as I was pounded closer and closer to death.

Then, as if he'd been stung, Gary snapped his head around and stared at Donovan. I knew what my friend had said, I knew what he was doing, and I tried to call out for him to stop. But it was no use, I could barely even breathe, let alone shout.

I watched Gary grab hold of Donovan's throat, watched Donovan nod frantically. Then the Skull jumped into the ring and wrenched my attackers away from me, pushing them back out into the crowd. There was a chorus of boos from an audience denied their bloodlust, but Gary didn't seem to care. He bent down and grabbed my dripping overalls, pulling me up until his face was an inch away.

"Your lucky day, little man," he hissed in my ear, confirming my worst fears. "Looks like I'm hitching a lift out of this place with you."