Page 5 of Crave You

A tentative hand is raised.

I immediately notice that its owner is a very pretty girl. She’s thin, but in a muscle-toned, athletic way. Even at a distance I can see she has striking blue eyes that are almost too big for her face, with a delicate nose and red lips that are framed by thick, shoulder length blonde curls. She must be new; I am sure I would have remembered her if I had seen her before around campus.

Although she is small, she immediately strikes me as a fighter, or someone who plays body-contact sport. Her stance is combative and her hand may be raised but there is nothing tentative about the way she is holding it. She interests me, and that surprises me as well.

“Yeah,” I say, pointing at her, but keeping my voice deliberately disinterested.

“What happens if no one manages the minute?” she asks.

“Then everyone fails,” I reply. “Anyone else.”

No one else asks us anything and I nod at Tim, the Valens member who is going to be running this part of the show.

“Ok. When you hear your name called, please step up,” he says as Lucien, Damien, Shawn and I go and take the four seats that are set up for us at the front. “Leona Marshall, James Keith, Frederick Pounder and Watson Green.”

Four of the entrants step forward, one of whom is the girl who asked the question. I watch her as the four of them are directed to stand at a barrel each. She looks calm and composed and that’s exactly what is needed for this test. I would quite like to see how she handles it, but I’m distracted by the one called Frederick. He already looks as if he wants to walk away.

“Three. Two. One, Go!” Timothy shouts. The members who are standing beside the barrels dunk the entrants into the barrels and hold them there as another member controls the timer and calls out five-second updates. The candidates have only been in the water for ten seconds when Frederick begins to flop about. The irony is he looks like a fish out of water. A shiver of pleasure goes through me as I watch the boy panicking. He bangs twice on the edge of the barrel and is pulled out of the water. He is gasping and even from where I’m sitting I can see how white his face is and how wide his eyes are. The other three get through.

The rest of the rounds go without incident. More people are eliminated, but the all-consuming panic is missing. By the end of the round, we have only lost five boys and four girls.

The next round is a play on the glass ceiling game. The candidates are directed to stand in a line and some current members of Valens line up halfway between the house and that spot. All the candidates have to do is reach the house. The Valens members are there to stop them. This test is designed to assess the physical ability of the candidates or, if they aren’t particularly fit, they can try to come up with a way to get around the guards without having to fight them, and then it becomes a test of strategy. For the ideal candidate, it is both.

Timothy briefs the candidates, and he does a good job of getting them hyped up. By the time he counts them in to the start, the air is buzzing with a mix of excitement and fear. The candidates rush forward as one and the Valens members spread out. They clash in the center of the playing field, and as they do, I sit forward in my seat knowing this part of the challenge is going to be good.

The first candidate through is a brute of a guy. He doesn’t so much fight his way through as he jogs along, bouncing our guys off of him. I have to say I think he would be a good addition to this year’s group of newbies. We need a combination of muscle, brain and everything in between.

I watch the girl I was drawn to earlier. She looks fit enough to do something similar to what the brute did, but I think she’ll have to put up a bit more of a fight. I watch as she runs towards two Valens members. She swings her fist at one and he ducks. This isn’t unusual, but what gets me is what she does next. The other Valens member is coming at her hard and he is twice her size. Instead of trying to plow through him or dance around him, she picks up (literally picks up) a tiny girl from beside her and throws the girl at the nearest Valens member.

He fumbles, trying not to drop the girl he has suddenly caught and the fighter girl makes a run for it, becoming the second candidate to make it through.

She’s twisted, I think, using that other girl that way. I like that and I smile to myself.

What happens next is an even bigger surprise, though. The tiny girl, who was thrown, is being set back down on her feet and she clings to the arm of the Valens guy, seemingly trying to get over what has just happened to her. But her head is down, and her eyes are alert; moving to the left and the right.

A second beforehand, I see what she’s doing. She takes a step forward and puts her hand to her head as though she’s going to faint. The Valens guy moves to catch her but she doesn’t faint; she takes off running, leaving him on the back foot. She’s small but she’s extremely fast and by the time he catches up with her, she is touching the building with one hand, safely through to the next round.

Now, struggles are raging everywhere, and while the other three leaders are on their feet cheering and whooping at the action, I remain seated, not particularly interested in the goings on anymore. I enjoy dishing out violence and pain, and watching this way bores me.

By the end of that test, we are down to four female and six male candidates. Timothy explains to the remaining candidates what happens next; that the final part of this test is an interrogation of sorts. It is a test of loyalty, something I value very highly in anyone who joins Valens.

Timothy hands out slips of paper, on each of which is a four-digit number. The candidate must memorize the number and then put the paper away. After that they will face one of us leaders, alone in a room. We will interrogate them to get the code number. The rules are simple enough. They have to last three minutes without telling us the number and we can do whatever we like to them to make them talk. The only thing we are not allowed to do is to look at their paper slip. It exists merely to prove what their number was at the end.

“Lucien, choose first,” Timothy says.

Lucien stands up and looks over the candidates. I know this is an act. He already knows who he wants. He makes a bit of a show of dithering around, keeping the candidates nervous and then he points to three candidates in quick succession.

I’m called up next and I select two; I take the blonde girl first.

We walk side by side into the house.

“I’m Zander,” I say.

“I know,” she says. “I’m Leona.”

“Are you a boxer or a wrestler?” I ask.

“I was,” she says. “A boxer. I was the middle-weight champion in my state age group when I was at college.”

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