Freedom

I ignore my racing heart as the two other sinners prepare for the trials ahead.

“Survivor wins freedom.”

This was the promise. The hope that kept all of us alert behind metal bars, waiting for our turn. Though no one had ever survived the “Rehabilitation” to taste that liberation, there was always the possibility. We lived off that possibility.

To my right was Kilo, whom I hated. He was a self righteous dreamer. Who ever heard of a person smiling in prison? To the left was G. A frail waif who could blow over if the wind was at just the right angle.

The prisoners sitting all around the stadium yell for the one they root for. The guards hold their weapons and surround the Warden--the man who is only seen at these events but holds all our fates in his likely manicured hands.

“BOOM.”

The canon goes off and we run towards the three doors across the stadium, kicking up sand as we do. We push each other not knowing which door will lead to what exactly. I’m determined to open the middle door, so I kick G in the face to get his hand off the door knob.

As soon as I step inside, I fall, fall, fall into nothingness. It is dank and dark and I am falling at warp speed. Suddenly I spot blue skin. Kilo is to the right of me, falling at the same rate. Then I hear a scream. G is above me. What is the test? What is the objective here? I look around as the wind velocity pulls my braids up and air blows through my skin and clothes.

Kilo, meanwhile, is being spun into gold, starting from his feet working its way up to his neck. When he is fully engulfed, some invisible force slams him to the cave-like wall and twirls him like a drill through the rocks.

I look to the bottomlessness beneath me and a wave of black water is growing and growing, until it hits my toes and stings me. It quickly overtakes my body. Just before my face goes under, I see G lit on fire and being yanked to the opposite side of the cave.

I gasp for air and hold my breath as every inch of my body feels electricity go through it. Growing up in desert conditions, swimming was never my strong suit. I try to calm myself down. That’s hard to do as I can’t breath and the pressure in my body heightens and heightens. Death is near.

As I begin to lose consciousness, I fall hard onto a dusty floor. We are back at the stadium. Kilo is badly bruised and his right eye is closed from injury. My body aches and there are splotches of purple all over my red skin.

With a background of prisoners’s screams, I scramble and look to my left. A badly burned body with chunks of skin falling off lays unmoving. G is gone. He was not a friend. But no inmates are friends here. You forget you are a living being until you see someone’s literal flesh and blood splayed across a floor.

“BOOM.”

Wood carts appear from nowhere. For a brief second, Kilo and I exchange a look. He drags his right leg–a weakness I will exploit as soon as I have the chance. The wooden carts start to move on an invisible track, so we both jump in. The rickety carts speed, riding on individual translucent tracks throughout the stadium. Then they shoot right up to the sky.

I hold on to the edge of the cart, the wood splinters catching my hands. My legs are out of the cart and I’m holding on for dear life. Kilo is inches away from me now on his own track. It takes all the strength I have to move my head up to the sky above. I see something glinting in the sun, two somethings. Brass coins float in the air and I instinctively know we are to collect one.

“Survivor wins freedom.” That is in my head as I extend my arm while we get closer and closer to the coins. Kilo’s cart is headed towards mine as we reach our destination. Then the carts come to an abrupt halt mid-air. The coins are only a couple of feet away. I climb my cart to reach them. Yes, I go for both. I was taught never to trust anyone. I was out for myself and Kilo can go rot in hell as far as I’m concerned. My hands outstretched, I could feel the air beneath the floating coins. Kilo knocks me down,

I hang on to my cart with one hand and, oddly, he flicks a coin at me. I catch and pocket it. Our carts start moving and I jump onto his with a punch to his face. The carts are descending back to the stadium and I try to pry his coin out of his hand.

“We can both win, Talu!” He pleads.

Not in here. No one has won. I doubt they would let two such lowly creatures out of here at the same time. I pocket his coin and leap to my cart. As we descend, I see him dejected and defeated looking. Pathetic.

We are so high up I can now see the Warden. He is laughing at us. I sweat and pant and try to hold on to the cart with my bloodied hands. Kilo’s eyes are closed in surrender but he is doing the same. Then I realize something while looking at the Warden. He is flesh and blood, just dressed in cleaner, impressive clothes. Showered and neat, but still a vulnerable body. What luck made me and Kilo destined to fight for our lives like wild animals, meanwhile a man such as the Warden looks on at us as entertainment?

We crash land on to the stadium floor once more. I hear a crunch sound and realize I have broken my ribs in the fall. Kilo lays face flat, awaiting his execution. As the guards come through the doors to shoot him in front of all of us, I become angry. I have hate in my heart for the guards, Kilo, the Warden and everyone in that stadium–most of all myself.

I throw one coin near Kilo’s hand. He opens his eyes at me in disbelief.

“Grab it!” I bellow.

He does and the guards stop in their tracks. The prisoners in the stands are so confused they don’t know how to react. This is not what we were taught. Not what is ingrained in us all. Camaraderie is unheard of. Every man for himself. If it was seeing G splayed out like roadkill, or the Warden’s laugh, or Kilo’s resigned look, or the audience’s wildness, I don’t know. But something shifts in me in that moment.

“BOOM.”

Suddenly, long metal spears are dropping from the sky like rain drops. One slices my left shoulder as I yell. Kilo swivels his leg. I find the broken carts, grab Kilo and throw him under one before going in myself, as another spear scars my back.

In the darkness of the wood shelter, we hear the spears hitting it. Our breath seems louder than the boos the prisoner’s were throwing out. They want blood spilt.

This was the third and final test. How does one defeat the spears? The cart would break soon and so would we.

I look at Kilo’s pale blue face. He would not last long, even without the arrows. I am bleeding through myself. There is nowhere to hide in the exposed stadium. The spears seem to hit harder with increasing speed.

“We will die here.” Kilo says.

“We will.” I respond.

And looking into his one open purple eye, I know what to do.

“Hold this over your head.” I say to Kilo, handing him a broken piece of wood near us.

He does not ask questions and does as he is told. Another foreign concept to me. I swing him up on my shoulders as we overturn our temporary safeguard. Kilo holds the wood shield over his head. I grab a fallen spear and run like crazy.

As I traverse ground, the audience gasps. The guards look on in wonderment. I get to the middle of the stadium, I hold the spear as far back as I can and throw it up the stands. It hits its intended target.

The Warden lets out a high pitch scream as I’ve ever heard in my life. He grabs the spear that pierces his throat. Flesh and blood. All he ever was was flesh and blood.

Silence overtakes the crowd. Then, as if a school of fish, the prisoners descend onto the stadium grabbing spears, that were still raining from above, and running towards the guards. One guard for every hundred prisoners. We have always outnumbered them. We hate each other, rely on these self proclaimed gods to lead us to our emancipation, not realizing there is another way.

The wood above Kilo breaks in half under a spear and he is flung off of me. I collapse onto the ground as two spears pin my hand down to the ground. I look over at Kilo who is looking back at me. He is not just smiling, but laughing. Laughing in between coughs. Joy emanates from him, even when a spear falls piercing his heart. I am struck left and right with the weapons falling from the heavens. I feel my soul being tugged out of me. I close my eyes as I revel in true freedom.