Ranger got to his feet. “He’s gonna go.”

  A look across at Max, Spike frowned hard and dug deep. He beat the whistle to the next line. As much as he wanted to win and as much as he wanted to beat Max, he now wanted to prove it to Ranger more than anyone. Magma’s son or not, he wouldn’t stand in the way of Spike becoming the next protector. He’d finish second at best. Like his old man. Whatever it took to overcome him and his fear of the diseased, Spike would do it.

  Passing Max on his way back down the hall, Spike glanced at him again. Although he looked awful, Spike probably looked no better. But Max was done. He saw it in his eyes.

  When he arrived at the other line before the whistle sounded, Spike turned to see Max had pulled up. He ran one more length because he could. Then he stopped, walked to the side of the hall, winked at the embittered Ranger, and fell to the floor. As he lay on his back, the taste of bile rose in his throat from the effort of the run. Sweat burned his eyes while his breaths ran away with him. But he’d done it.

  If he worked hard enough, he could overcome anything. Including his fear.

  Chapter 35

  The rain came down so hard it stung the top of Spike’s head and his exposed arms. His team around him, he leaned close to them, all of them slightly stooped because of the onslaught. “At least it’ll be cooler in the gym. The heat this week’s damn near killed me.”

  Although they were directly competing with one another, Max and Spike had managed to remain civil, and it was Max who replied, “It’s been too much, hasn’t it? What do you think we’re doing today?”

  Olga this time: “Whatever it is, I hope it’s not as intense as the past few days have been. One more burpee and I might throw up my internal organs.”

  As the conversation between them died, Spike looked at all the other teams gathered there while he stretched some of the aches and pains from his body. He’d pushed himself to his limit every single day and then every night in weapons training with Bleach, and while the first day of training didn’t go as planned, he’d grown as the week went on and given a good account of himself. If Sarge had paid attention, he would have seen a contender emerge. Although, the man never offered praise, so he found it hard to tell whether Sarge paid attention or not.

  Team Minotaur stood outside the dining hall like all the other teams. They lined up how they sat at their tables inside. Team Dragon and Bigfoot were neighbours, so Ranger currently stood close to Matilda. From Spike’s perspective, Magma’s son looked to be spending most of his time trying to get Matilda’s attention in one way or another. After saying something else to her, the boy turned around with a smile and winked at Spike. Over the past few days, Ranger had picked up a number one fan, who laughed at his every act. The boy’s name was Lance Cull. A tall and broad lad, he had blond hair, teeth nearly as yellow as the diseased, and awful acne.

  Not the first time Ranger and Lance had tried to goad him, but Spike’s pulse quickened at the affront like it had every other time he’d done it. His stomach tight, he clenched his jaw while staring back at the boy and his pet sycophant. Ranger and Lance’s behaviour would have been easier to take though were Matilda not ignoring him. Since they’d been separated into teams, she’d barely looked at him. Maybe his error at the beginning had taken away her confidence that he could get them a better life.

  While twirling his dad’s skull ring, Spike looked at the hummingbird clip in Matilda’s hair.

  Before Spike could think on it any further, Sarge’s voice called out as he stepped from the dining hall, his usual scowl deepened by the hard onslaught of rain. “Right.”

  The cadets all faced the man.

  “Follow me.”

  The same process every morning, Sarge walked off in the direction of the gym and they all followed, team Dragon moving off first, all the way back to team Minotaur.

  Even as he walked—the ground squelching beneath his feet—Spike saw Ranger talking to Matilda. At least Matilda never reacted, especially on walks like this. No one spoke unless Sarge spoke to them first. Despite the fire in her belly, Matilda needed to have a good reason to go against the rules. What he’d give to be on the roof of the textiles factory with her again.

  Instead of stopping at the gym like they had on every other day, Sarge marched straight past it and headed in the direction of the training area. A large walled-off section, Spike had stared at it many times over the past week. He’d stared at both the wall and the fence leading to the hole. He’d learned that the apprentices competed in the training area when the trials started next month. It would be good to see the place so it felt familiar to him in six months’ time.

  The gates leading through to the training area were much like the ones leading out of the city’s back wall—the gates Spike had seen Mr. P ejected from. They were no more than eight feet tall and six feet wide.

  The heavy bolt cracked open when Sarge dragged it free. The hinges creaked as he pulled the gates wide and led them through.

  As the last team in, Spike had to judge the place based on the reactions of those ahead of him. Every single cadet stared around them after they’d crossed the threshold, their eyes and mouths wide.

  Following his team through the now open gates, Spike’s jaw fell too. An arena larger than the one they had the main event in, he looked at the banked rows of seats that formed a large circle around a central pit. It was less permanent than the main event arena, however, because it had been constructed from wood to make it more mobile. Like every structure on this side of the gates, it had to be ready to move when they’d finished extending the wall. The main space in the middle, a ring with a diameter of at least fifty feet, stretched much wider than the arena’s too. Whatever they did in the trials, they had enough room to make it spectacular.

  Several activity stations had been set up in the ring, but before Spike could spend too much time looking at them, Tank—team Dragon’s leader—walked across in front of the cadets. A wide man with shock-white skin and black tattoos on his face, he scowled at the rookies, the rain bouncing off him as if he were impervious to it.

  A glance at the other cadets showed Spike the same confusion he felt. Why Tank? Sarge took the lead on everything.

  “This is the end of your first week. It’s been a long week and you’ve all worked very hard. Today, you’ll be competing against one another for team points. The winning team get a lie-in tomorrow.”

  Just the thought of it made Spike’s body ache more than it had a few moments previously. He hated getting up at the crack of dawn.

  “The team leaders will take turns setting challenges for you. Mine was supposed to be a gentler introduction, but because of the rain, I’m not sure it will be.”

  Eight tree stumps, each one about four feet tall, were lined up. The space between them grew larger as they went along. “You need to jump from one of these to the next. You fail to make the jump and you’re out.” The first gap looked easy enough at about five feet. The final one must have been eight if not more.

  A rope hung down from a platform about twenty feet up. “Next, you need to climb the rope. I was going to make you do it using just the strength in your arms, but the fact that it’s wet is challenge enough.”

  When Tank walked over to several axes embedded in lumps of wood, Spike didn’t know what to think.

  “A big part of being outside the walls for those who want to be the next apprentice is chopping wood. You need to be able to do it well. You have four swings to chop this wood into four pieces of roughly equal size. And then finally …” He walked to the last obstacle. A ring of latticed wood, it had ropes and pulleys attached to it. It looked like an eight-foot-wide dream catcher like the ones he’d seen in the textiles district. “This is a simple case of hanging on. You hold these wooden bars. The last one to fall is the winner. Again, I’m sure the rain will make it infinitely harder. Right, my team first. Dragon”—he pointed at the logs—“get over there.”

  Ginger Slink went first, slipping slightly as he climbed onto the wet tree stump. Each one had a diameter of about two feet. As much of a fool as Spike had made of himself, at least in this trial he didn’t have to be the example of failure for everyone to follow.

  “You ready?” Tank said.

  Ginger looked at him but didn’t reply.

  “Go!”

  Spike’s heart leapt to watch Ginger make the first jump, his feet slipping when he landed on the second log. All the cadets let out sighs and gasps of relief when the boy didn’t fall.

  Using a two-footed approach, Ginger moved to the edge of the next log, bent his knees, swung his arms, and leapt again. He made it.

  Three, four, and five—the same tactic with each one—Ginger crossed the increasingly wider gaps. When he jumped to the sixth stump, he landed with one foot, his other one falling back, but he grabbed on with his hands, crouching down and hugging the stump to remain on it.

  The two-footed tactic no good now, Ginger stepped back on the sixth log before running to make the jump. But when he pushed off, his launching foot slipped out behind him, stealing his momentum. He landed face first and nowhere near his intended target.

  Tank walked over to the boy—who lay face down in the mud—and offered him his hand. Other than his pride, Ginger didn’t appear to have hurt anything. “At least the wet ground has given you a soft landing,” Tank said. He then pointed the boy away from him. “You’re out.”

  Matilda next, Spike’s heart beat in his throat to watch her climb up onto the first log. No one spoke as she drew a breath and focused on what lay ahead. If anyone could do it, she could. After chasing her through the city on their last night, he’d seen what she had in her. If she couldn’t do it, he had no chance.

  Suddenly Matilda burst to life, taking two steps across the top of the first stump before launching for the second. Unlike Ginger, she didn’t stop, one step across the top of the second stump before she leapt for the third. By the time she’d gotten to the fourth one, some of the crowd were cheering. The same set of concentration on her face, she passed over it onto the fifth, then the sixth, then the seventh. Although Spike had remained quiet until that moment, when he watched her make the final leap, he shouted, “Go on, Tilly.”

  Matilda nailed the last jump before continuing forward off the final stump to land double footed on the soggy ground.

  The cadets all shouted and clapped for her, Spike harder than any others.

  Tank’s full-bellied laugh sounded like it didn’t belong to him, almost mechanical in tone. “Well, that, boys and girls, is how it’s done. Nancy, you’re up next.”

  But Nancy Humberto shook her head.

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “I’m not doing it,” she said. “I know I won’t make it.”

  Tank closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. When he opened them again, he looked at Abbie Shrink, who also shook her head. This time he released a hard shot of air, his cheeks puffing and the whites of his eyes standing out on his face. He looked close to shouting before Jane Strange clambered up onto the first stump. “At last! Someone else with the stones to give it a go.”

  Jane Strange fell at the first jump like many of the following cadets. Many more refused, Hugh being one of them. And Spike couldn’t blame them. None of them had designs to be the next protector and they weren’t built for the task. Several of the cadets who hadn’t made it were still lying down nursing injuries. Elysium Cooch still had blood pouring from her nose. But twelve of them had made it to the other side, including Ranger, Max, and Olga.

  Tank slapped Spike so hard on the back, he stumbled forward. “The final cadet. Can you make it thirteen through to round two?”

  With all of the other team leaders watching, Spike glanced at Bleach, who, for the first time since he’d met him, almost smiled. Maybe not close to a smile, but the look of utter disdain had certainly left his face.

  Being the final one to do the task, Spike had gone through a gamut of emotions. At points he thought he’d smash it, but then he saw someone else slip and fall. His legs shook as he stood up on the first stump, and when he looked along the eight steps, he saw Ranger waiting at the end, staring back at him.

  Olga shoved Magma’s son aside, moving him out of Spike’s line of sight. “You can do it, Spike.”

  “William,” Ranger said.

  The rain coming down harder than ever, Spike filled his lungs. He’d do his best to copy Matilda’s technique.

  Spike reached stump two with ease, then three and four. Like Matilda had, he took a step in between each one and leapt for the next. Stump five, stump six, stump seven. But when he got to the seventh stump, instead of using his momentum to jump for the final one, his courage abandoned him and he stopped, his shoes slipping a little beneath him. Many of the cadets gasped. The longest jump of the lot and he now had no run-up.

  “Oh, look,” Ranger said. “He’s nearly made it, and surprise, surprise, he’s bottled it again.”

  Tank’s voice cut through the rain like a thunderclap. “Shut up, Ranger, you jumped-up little moron. Give him the same respect everyone gave you before I disqualify you for putting the other contestants off.”

  It worked, silencing Ranger and making the boy’s pale face redden. But it did nothing to imbue Spike with confidence. As he looked at the gap, he shook his head. No way could he make the last jump.

  Chapter 36

  Spike led with his right foot stretched out in front of him. The gap seemed impossibly wide, but he made it … just. However, the second he put pressure down, his foot slipped, fire racing up his right shin as it sheered along the edge of the stump. His knee slammed on the hard surface, rods of electric pain streaking up his thighs, sending nausea into his stomach.

  Caught between screaming and vomiting, Spike reached out and hugged the final stump, gripping on with all he had. Although he’d landed it, his head spun from the pain and he could still fall off.

  A few seconds later, Spike stood up on wobbly legs to the sound of applause and cheers.

  His shin still on fire, Spike tested his kneecap by moving his right leg. It still worked. A small amount of pressure on it to test it would still hold his weight, he jumped off the stump and landed with the rest of the successful cadets. Olga and Max congratulated him while the rest of them, including Matilda, turned their backs on him. Surely he’d just shown her he could do this. While not the best, he had what it took to get through.

  All thirteen of them managed the rope climb, the new rules of being able to use their feet making it easier than intended.

  “Spike,” Tank said, “you first with splitting the wood. You’re from the agricultural district, so this should be a doddle for you, right?”

  But Spike didn’t reply. Instead, he walked away from the group of thirteen over to one of the axes and logs. On his way past Ranger, he heard the boy hiss, “You’re going to fail,” but he paid him no mind.

  The rest of the cadets watched on, everyone soaked through. The wind whipping up, Spike wiped his hands on his sodden trousers and wriggled an axe free from its stump. While testing the weight of the thing, he tightened his grip on the handle. Lighter than the one they had at home, he still knew how to use it.

  Spike rested the head of his axe on his lump of wood to get his range before he wound it back and drove a hard swing at his target. The shoom of the cut rang out and a piece of wood about a quarter of the size of the main log fell away.

  Two more swings, he cut another quarter and then cut the final piece in half. Not even Ranger could comment when he’d finished and stacked the four almost identical pieces on the stump. The cadets applauded him, and Tank acknowledged his success with a nod. There hadn’t been many times in training where Spike had been able to prove his competence. Although Matilda still continued to ignore him.

  Spike took his place by the final obstacle and waited while the others tried to join him.

  Only Ranger made it through to the final task with Spike. All of the others gave it a good go, but they either failed to split the log enough times or their axe glanced off their intended target. When Matilda did it, he wanted to call out her mistakes to her. Hold the axe by the end of the handle and watch the piece of wood she was cutting, not the head of the axe. But in light of the frosty turn their relationship had taken, she’d probably ignore him anyway.

  “Two contenders left,” Tank said, leading them over to the final challenge. “How perfect.” The sound of his steps echoed as he walked up onto the wooden platform beneath the circular latticework of wood. “You’ve both done well, but there can only be one winner. The boy who holds on longest will get maximum points. You ready?”

  “I am,” Ranger said, but Spike didn’t reply, letting the stocky boy lead the way up to the platform.

  Spike had seen the pulleys when Tank first showed them the final task. No doubt they’d lift the latticework high in the air. But how high? It didn’t matter. He just needed to hold on.

  As much as Spike would have chosen differently, Tank lined him and Ranger up so they faced one another on opposite sides of the wooden frame.

  “Ranger,” Tank said, “you ready?”

  Instead of responding to Tank, Ranger stared at Spike. “Of course.”

  “William?”

  Spike nodded.

  Tank stepped off the wooden platform to the sound of a winch turning. Spike looked to see Ore—the woman who’d saved him from being killed on day one—operating it. The wooden lattice lifted above them, dragging Spike’s arms up with it. By the time he’d reached full stretch, Ranger’s feet had already left the ground.

  The cadets cheered, their words mixing together as a swell of excitement. As much as Ranger wanted to look at Spike, Spike turned his face away, the stinging rain slamming against him. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breaths to keep himself calm.

 

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