Underland(56)

Finally, Den left—alone—to go to Ferb’s and watch the big match up on TV. It was time to start placing bets. Zeke was sitting on the floor with a battered book. It was oddly comforting to see him reading. Such a human thing to do.

“Why hasn’t he continued to train me?” She wanted to see what Zeke would say.

“Maybe because he’s mad at me, because I won’t let him enter you in the ring.” He didn’t even look up from his page when he answered.

So he knew. “Then let me fight.”

“I have to fight in order to keep the money coming. We need food and supplies.” Zeke turned a page. “You don’t need to fight. You shouldn’t fight—you’re human.”

“Gah! This is all my fault. If other humans are fighting—dying—I should be too.”

“No, this isn’t anyone’s fault. It’s just the way it is.”

“Well, I hate being cooped up here, I need to do something. To train.” She stood up abruptly demanded, “Train me.”

“What? No!” He finally put the book down and gave her his full attention. Now that she had it, she wasn’t about to let it get away. She bent down, grabbed his hands, and pulled him to his feet.

“Show me what you do in the ring. Where do you go each night?”

“No!” he pulled away and gave her his back. “It’s not pretty. You don’t want to know what I have to do to survive.”

“I survived the gauntlet. What if I get entered in another event and I’m not prepared?”

“I’m not your sponsor or owner or trainer.” He turned away, his eyes sad.

“But you care about whether I die. I don’t want to die. So teach me to survive. What if you’re not here to protect me next time?”

Zeke stared at her.

“Fine.”

She jump around but she held it in, played it cool. She was doing something—anything—besides sitting around staring at the ceiling and sweeping the always dusty floor. This was action, this was getting her moving. This felt like she was accomplishing something.

“The ring. It’s a match. Two enter and one leaves alive.”

“I think we have something like that back home.”

He shook his head. “Not exactly. This one is a bit rougher. You’ve already seen one bout.”

“I have?”

“At the Gamblers’ Market. You saw a version of the ring.”

“Oh, I see.”

Zeke moved around the room and started pushing things out of the way. “If you were entered, you can bet it wouldn’t be against someone weak. Everyone would want to tear you apart. Especially after seeing you kill a boggart. There’s only one kind of creature designed to kill a boggart, but you—it was a good moment for you.” He smiled and drew a line in the dirt floor, motioned for Kira to stand on it.

“How many have you fought?” The outcome suddenly felt less certain.

“I’ve been doing it awhile.” Evasive.

Zeke placed another mark on the floor, pulled a crate to the center of the room, and set a stick on it.

“Ever been injured doing it?”

He nodded. “Lots of times.”

“But you always survive.” She tried to sound encouraging, but…how could zombie fighting be considered fair?

He laughed. “Of course, I’m not your average zeke or half-lifer. I am a lot harder to kill.” He pointed to the stove where he had set up an old alarm clock with a bell. “You ready? You never know what weapon will be provided—sometimes it’s a knife, others an axe, once it was a spoon. The object is to get to it first.”

“Yeah, I know it.” Kira jumped up and down and shook out her arms before settling in and getting ready to run toward the crate. “It’s a lot like dodgeball. Get to the ball in the middle first and then hit your opponent.”

“Except you can die.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to let that happen.” She dug her boot into the ground and focused on the crate. She’d have to get there before him, outsmart the zombie.

“Good.”

She didn’t look at the clock, just listened to the ticking as the second hand moved around. Breathe in. Release. Focus.

Ring!

She was off like a bullet, racing toward the crate.

Zeke had already beaten her and picked up the stick. He held it above her head. “Too slow. You’re dead.”

“That’s not fair. You don’t know that I’d be dead already.”

Zeke placed the stick back on the crate and gave her a stern look. “Yes you would. If you were playing against me you’d be. I’m faster and stronger than you.”

Kira gritted her teeth and growled. “Again!” She marched back to her starting point and turned to face the crate.

Zeke reset the timer. He walked slowly back to his mark on the line. Kira could feel her anger rising. This wasn’t fair. How was she supposed to outrun him? She didn’t have much time to think before the bell went off again, and she shot from her mark, racing toward the crate.

Zeke got there first again.

“Gah!” She picked up the crate and tossed it at him. Zeke’s eyes went wide as he ducked. The crate crashed. Pieces flew across the floor and one hit her foot.