Z 2134

boars grunting, waiting to be fed.
    Ana remembered cheering as Jeffrey Ramirez was torn to tatters about ten games before, after his expulsion from City 6 following his verdict of guilty for six counts of rape. The memory gave her a shiver. Ana hoped that if she lost her balance, the fall would kill her before the boars got the chance.
    The orb continued to hover beside her. Kirkman said, “That’s right, folks, it’s The King of the Bridge Challenge! What are the odds that two players would trigger the trapdoors so close together? How fortunate they are that they won’t have to wait!”
    Kirkman read the rules, which he probably knew by heart, “The rules are simple, but the challenge is anything but. In the center of the bridge is a platform that is actually an elevator to the surface. Whoever gets to the platform first gets the sword, which they’ll need to defend the platform once they press the button. Because in The King of the Bridge Challenge, there can be only one king! But be careful, contestants, because the bridge is narrow, and the fall is steep. And then, of course, there are the boars!”
    Kirkman paused as a third orb’s camera zoomed in up close to a particularly ugly boar with sharp, disfigured fangs. The audience roared in applause, which made Ana’s stomach roll.
    “Anastasia Lovecraft, are you ready?”
    Ana said nothing, but Kirkman laughed as if she’d cracked a joke.
    “Like father, like daughter; not very talkative, eh? Well, let’s ask our other player, Cody Samuelson, playing for City 3.
    “Cody Samuelson, are you ready?”
    The orb’s screen lit with the image of the boy who resembled Barnum. He was scrawny, with curly brown hair, just like her old friend. She swallowed, wondering if it would be harder to eliminate someone who looked like a friend than it would be to kill a stranger.
    The boy who wasn’t Barnum said nothing, so Kirkman loudly repeated: “Cody Samuelson, are youuuuu ready to kill?”
    Cody’s face twisted into an angry scowl. “Death to the murderer’s daughter!” he said, raising his fist as if in mock tribute to the “To Jonahs” Ana saw all too often while her father was playing The Games.
    Ana would have liked another minute, or even thirty seconds, to assess her situation, but both glass boxes raised into the rocks above as the lights burned brighter and the sound of the audience’s cheers filled the cavern, almost in sync with the horrible screeching and squealing from the monstrous boars below.
    “Run!” Kirkman shouted.
    Ana and Cody took off at the same time, tearing from their glass boxes, then moving as fast as they dared along the narrow bridge. Ana kept telling herself not to look back, knowing that doing so would likely bring death.
    Kirkman continued to talk, but Ana ignored his every word, like she ignored the strobing from the orb above and the screaming boars below.
    Ana held her arms horizontally to her side, turning her body into a “t,” focusing only on the certainty of her steps as she set one foot in front of the other, maintaining momentum and forcing herself not to consider Cody’s progress on his side of the narrow course.
    Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him. Just keep your mind on the path ahead. One foot in front of the other.
    Her mind raced faster with every step, wondering if she would be able to reach the platform before Cody, and if she could, whether she could actually bring herself to murder someone.
    Yes, it was in self-defense. But still, it was murder.
    Don’t look, don’t look.
    Nearly there, Ana succumbed to temptation and was shocked to see Cody was almost twice as close as she was to the platform. Realization fueled her doubt; doubt nearly caused her to fall.
    Ana gasped, thrusting her hands out in front of her, swinging wildly to regain her balance as the heel of her left foot planted itself hard against the ground, righting her body just seconds before falling off the precipice and into the pit of hungry boars.
    The orb hummed beside her, lending Ana mercy with silence, allowing her to focus. Unfortunately, her reprieve lasted seconds. Once Ana had righted herself, the Orb’s TV screen returned to vibrant life, the crowd loudly chanting.
    “Die! Die! Die!”
    Clearly, Ana wasn’t the crowd favorite her father had been. Being labeled a traitor in the Underground gave the audience fuel to hate her, and they were clearly rooting for her ruin. Her father was in the Underground, but the Network