“Please, Blaze. Neck? Legs?” She’s a mess, dripping blood and entrails.
“Your belly, Love. Did they pierce your belly?” That would be terrible. It would be the most excruciatingly painful way to die. By the end, she might beg me to hasten her trip to the afterlife.
“I don’t know.”
I’ve seen this before in the arena. It’s shock. Her mind quit working. Her lips are numb. She’s still clutching the club tightly in both hands.
Turning in a full circle, I look one more time, but no morecrindlesare encroaching. I lift her, somehow keeping my sword dangling from my wrist as well as avoiding the bat she won’t release from her tense grip.
Running to the stream, I slip, and we both almost tumble down the embankment. Wading into the shallow water, I set her bottom down in the middle of the sandy stream, plunge my sword into the stream bed next to my right foot, and wash her with swift and steady handfuls of water.
When I look down at myself, I see I’m covered in blood and guts, too. Am I bleeding? I feel nothing, but that’s not surprising. I’m still in the in-between place between autopilot and reality.
When I’ve thoroughly bathed her, I inspect her, then pull her to standing to scrutinize her more thoroughly. There’s a deep slice on her forearm that would require stitches if life were normal. She certainly won’t get medical attention while participating inThe Game.
Her thigh also has a crimson gash. And that’s it. All the rest of the blood she’d been bathed in wascrindleblood. Not hers.
Her mouth is working, but she’s saying nothing. She’s in shock. It’s understandable. I bathe, then inspect myself for injuries. Nothing but a few scratches on my thighs’ thick plating.
I have no idea how long the battle raged, but one of the suns has already set, the other is edging toward the horizon.
The drones, as always, are close enough I could almost reach out and grab one. Looking straight into the camera, I say, “You want your show tonight? You’ll get it, but not like this. This female needs medical supplies: antibiotics, antiseptics, a portable medbot to stitch her up, and plas-film. We need food and water—plenty of it. Do some recon and do it quickly. We need a safe place to bed down for the night and we need to get there before it’s pitch black. We’ll give you a show. It will be money in the bank for you. But you have to do your part.”
I turn my back on them. Fuck them. We’re worth millions to them tonight. Taking care of their fighting stock—their fucking stock—is a small price to pay.
Blaze
My lips are numb. Not just my lips. My hands and legs. I was so hot earlier, but I’m cold now. My teeth are chattering even though it’s still got to be close to a hundred degrees out here.
My mind is sluggish, like I’m walking through quicksand, only it’s my thoughts that are slow. I hurt all over, although maybe that’s just my imagination. I almost died a hundred times today, or is that just a bad dream?
If that’s a dream, then the good part is a dream too. The part where Titan called me “love.” Is that a dream? I’m not sure if I want it to be real or not.
