Chapter 8

This chapter has blood, child death, murder and extreme violence.

The inside of the transport lights up with a faint red glow. Welp. I can actually see s**t now. I'm crammed alongside at least a thousand people. I tower over the younger kids. The older ones are as tall as Mayday. Those are the dangerous ones. They'll do anything to survive and keep their family alive.

The people up on Mars are lucky, I think. None of them have to go through this.

Out there, in the "transantarctic" mountains and valleys, we'll be exposed to the storms. Out in the open, there's not a high chance that any of us will survive the them. That is, if the mines in the ground don't kill me first.

I try to laugh it off as I have an argument with myself. "Stay positive, at least there's no more ice." If Antarctica was just like the stories my parents told me, it would be a lot worse. "Positive? We're going to die! Haha..."

As I push past a group of tall teenagers, I hear a girl shout, "Hey! Watch it. F*****g b***h...". I ignore her. In a few minutes she'll probably be dead.

Stupid Mayday. What was he thinking, volunteering for his family? I'm the only child. I've got no choice. But Mayday? He's got five brothers to enter the Games. But no, he had to be all heroic and volunteer.

I glance at the wristband displaying my information. My age, name, birth country...all to be a "player" in this "survival competition". The man in the suit said it was for "population control". Killing children for population control?! Sending their families back to North America to burn to death while they're still grieving over their dead child?! Eh, who cares. As long as it isn't me. Or Mayday...

The transport shakes as it lands. The door opens and troopers force everyone out. A few more transports land alongside us; children and teenagers streaming out, some of their faces frozen in fear, others trying to calm themselves, and then there's those like me, with a deadpan expression on my face, prepared to die.

All I need to do is find a knife, pistol or a blaster. Maybe I'll survive. Remember what Mayday said about how to detect the mines. The smell, the slight depression in the ground where they're buried.

The transports take off and we're left standing on the gravel surface of the ground. Be positive, I think. Be thankful it's pleasantly cool here in Antarctica.

The disgustingly smooth voice of the man in the suit booms over the speakers somewhere buried in the ground.

"Welcome to this year's survival competition. Good luck, and remember: Only the strongest survive."

The countdown on our watches starts. I assume we're not supposed to do anything until it hits zero, because it's a f*****g countdown.

The countdown seems to take an eternity. I can feel the tension in the air. When the countdown hits one, a kid right next to me, looking around 9 years old, her skin chocolate brown, loses her balance and stumbles forwards. I don't know what to expect. Maybe nothing happens. Then sound of an explosion causes my ears to ring before everything goes silent. I feel warm liquid splatter onto my face. A bloodied leg hits my face and I flinch, taking a step back. The countdown is over by now, and I quickly start to shove my way through the mass of people, keeping an eye on the ground while frantically wiping the blood out of my eyes.

So that's what happens when you step before zero. No time to mourn. Where's Mayday?

I start to hear explosions in the distance, and the sound of blasters firing. Some people have already gotten their hands on weapons. The younger kids are screaming and crying whilst the older ones are desperately trying to keep it together like me. I run in a different direction than the majority of panicked children; uphill to the mountains. Well, not really running. More like a cautious dance. The smell of mines is so strong but I have no choice except to breathe it in. I avoid the small depressions in the ground as best as I can so as to not trigger them. I try to ignore the force of explosions behind me. I can feel the blood splattering against my back and into my hair. 

My cybernetic eye scans the area, and sees a small cave carved out into the rock. The wind starts to pick up.

Another storm. No time to find Mayday. Shelter is the priority.

Everyone starts to spread out, trying to find shelter from the storms. In the distance, my cybernetic eye spots a girl, looking a few years older than me, stabbing a child struggling to even walk. The child was almost a baby, probably a few years old.

I look away as I continue the careful dance across the mines. That's when I look back and see the girl heading towards me.

My eyes widen as panic flares up in my gut. I look around desperately for any weapon, my cybernetic eye scanning the area. It zooms into the barrel of a blaster just sticking out of the gravel. I carefully make my way to the blaster as fast as I can, trying not to let panic overtake my senses.

Just as I reach the blaster, I'm tackled to the ground by the girl, the antique metal hairpin in her hand threateningly hovering just above my neck as I struggle to hold her arm up. My leg kicks up against her shin and she grunts in pain, her grip loosening for a second. I flip her over and grab the hairpin from her hands. Without thinking, I step on the girl's stomach, stabbing the hairpin into her throat, blood spraying out of the wound and into my face. I keep stabbing even as her body goes limp, my breathing heavy and shaking.

As I finally calm down, I drop the hairpin to the ground and fall to my knees right next to her, the blood on my hands staining the gravel. The adrenaline rush starts to fade as I glance at the body of the girl. Her eyes are open, the fear in them frozen in time.

I...I just killed her.

I hear the first crash of thunder in the distance. I'll have time to break down later. I grab the hairpin and carefully head to the barrel of the gun sticking out of the ground, digging through the gravel to reveal its shape.

A sniper. I've never handled one before, but at least I won't have to go up close and stab people in the neck and risk dying. There's a few ration bars and packets of water in a small bag.

I grab the bag and drag along the gun, barely able to lift it as I clamber and force my way up into the small cave at the base of the mountain. By the time the lightning starts striking the ground, at least ten times a minute, I'm in the cave, soaking wet from the rain but alive. At least some of the blood from my face is gone. But not from my clothes...and definitely not from my mind...

I put my supplies as deep as I can into the cave and curl up into a ball in the corner, trying to keep myself together.

I'm alive. I'm alive!

I try to focus on my current situation. How many people are left? Is Mayday still alive?

Tears well up in my eyes at the thought of Mayday dying. No. He can handle himself. I just need to survive until the end. I have to.