Page 95 of Exiles on Earth
A clamp grips my mind, the Apex Parthiastock downing me in an instant. His Base quickly secures me on the ground, knee digging into my spine with his full weight.
“A fairness measure is required,” the robot drones. “Your physical statistics have been tallied and, in order for competitors to be on the same level, a handicap needs to be applied.”
Cold metal circles my right wrist. The Base yanks it up, then reaches for my left arm, chaining my hands in front of me.
As I get to my knees, I see no one else has been handcuffed. Only me.
Clamping my mouth shut on the instinct to fight, I breathe deeply. How am I supposed to fight my way through this jungle to El-len’s side like this?
Yellow-crest sneers as I rise to my feet, but I focus on memorizing a route with a backup trail to try if I need to. Every second she’s scared, my hearts crack wider and wider.
“Get me in there,” I snarl, fixing my gaze on her image, at the terror in her face.
It’s time to stop playing their game.
TWENTY-NINE
ELLEN
I struggleagainst the silk cord biting into my wrists, pinning me to the pole in the center of this arena. The guys who brought me here were all colors of apologetic, sickly greens and ice-cold blues as they went about their orders, but they swore I won’t be harmed, and this is essential for the test for the males.
“Essential my ass,” I mutter, heaving again.
‘Indeed,’ Floss says, looking critically at the bindings. They were polite to her and Rex, asking them not to interfere, but she whines in discomfort now as she surveys the wide jungle arena. This place is full of plant life too, but it doesn’t look all that peaceful, what with the thorny vines sliding near like snakes, purple leaves puffing off blister-red clouds, and rather large petals furling around the deep dark hole of some carnivorous flower.
And I’m fastened to a stake in the middle of all this. Great. At least I’m not cold, but I’m still wet from my surprise dip in the pond and practically naked.
My eyes burn with frustrated tears. How’s this supposed to help Ilia?
‘You are safe with me,’ Floss says soothingly.
“I know, but I wish I wasn’t tied up!” Something zooms close, a bloody great big bug knowing my luck, but it quickly zips away.
Rex sniffs just beyond where my feet can reach, then turns to look at Floss.
‘Rex says males are coming,’ Floss supplies. ‘Including Ilia.’
I stop wrenching my arms out from their sockets. “Ilia’s coming?” I scan the sweaty jungle hopefully. I’ll be embarrassed as hell afterward probably, but right now, I want out.
The deep roar of a crowd vibrates among the trees surrounding me, coming from deeper in the forest. Have the males been let loose here? I can’t recognize Ilia’s yells, but he might be saving his energy. He’d need it to fight through this hungry forest, which slowly shivers as if with delicious anticipation. My heartbeats mark the time, hammering as I scan the dense foliage with mounting desperation.
There! Bright color flashes in front of me, resolving into a thick-barreled chest of yellow with several blue spikes sticking out of his back. Not Ilia, but a fearsome-looking male. He catches sight of me and locks onto me, wading through the plant life.
Another orange male catches up to him and grabs him by his spikes, yanking him back. The yellow guy bellows and spins, landing a punch that shakes the nearby branches. Thorny vines whip out and wrap the dazed orange male, hoisting him up screaming into the branches above.
Oh, hells!
The yellow guy turns back to me, nostrils flaring as he paces closer. A vine lunges for him but he breaks off one of his spines and slashes it in half, then continues on his way with the blue blade dripping black venom on the ground.
My stomach lurches with fear, and I call out, “Ilia!”
‘About time,’ Floss says, dragging my attention towardwhere she’s looking. My heart leaps to see Ilia entering the clearing from the other side.
He picks his way through the hungry plants snapping at his thighs and calves, gaze locked on me. I try to smile, but I probably look like a panicked sheep caught in a fence, all mad rolling eyes and foamy mouth. Why is he keeping his arms together like that? As if he were handcuffed or something.
The yellow guy roars and raises his spine, slashing at Ilia’s head. Ilia ducks, his hands really bound in front of him, blue light zinging between his manacles.
Just like the ones he tied himself with at the farm, to prove I had nothing to fear from him.
