Backs Against the Wall

“You’re full of needs and wants, aren’t you?” Marlow asks. He nods as he rises, as he makes his way off the platform to stand in front of us. “You can borrow a boat. For a price.”

I actually feel better talking cost with him. It’s solid. It’s real. It’s not smoke and mirrors, smiles and scowls that pretend to mean one thing but really mean another entirely.

“What will it cost?” I ask.

“Dammit,” Ryan mutters.

I glance at him, unsure. He’s frowning at me.

“We should have had more Market 101 discussions. That’s not a great way to negotiate.”

“We can negotiate with him?” I whisper.

“Everything is negotiable, kid,” Marlow tells me. “You just gotta make sure you know the worth of what you want. How much is getting this boat worth to you?”

I shake my head, completely at a loss. I don’t have anything, definitely not anything they don’t already have.

“Not flush at the moment, huh? That’s alright. We can still do business. Tell me, what did Vin value you at?”

“What?” I ask, stu

“The man’s a professional. He can’t help himself. No way he spent any amount of time with you and didn’t slap a price tag on you. So, what was it?”

I open my mouth to answer, to lie and say he never told me, but Ryan cuts me off.

“I’ll fight.”

“No!” I snap at him.

He ignores me. He locks eyes with Marlow with a cold indifference.

“I’ll do it. That should be worth a boat.”

Marlow considers him for a long, painful moment.

“You’ll fight for me?”

“No, just one fight. Tonight. That’s it.”

“How does that benefit me? Everyone bets on you. I’d make pe

“Not if I fight in the Blind.”

Marlow grins. “Really?”

“Once. I’ll do it one time.”

“That’s as often as anyone ever does it.”

“What’s the Blind?” I ask.

Again, I’m ignored. I’m reminded of Crenshaw and Ryan in the hut and I worry this is becoming a thing.

“You’d be the only one to know,” Ryan tells him. “The only person betting high on the Blind.”

“Won’t that create some suspicion?”

Ryan shrugs, scowling at Marlow. “It’s your club isn’t it? What do you care what they think? Bet under a different name. Send a lackey down to do it.”

“Hmmm.” Marlow turns, his head hanging forward as he thinks. Finally he turns to face us again, his hand stretched out to Ryan. “You have yourself a deal.”

Ryan shakes firmly with him, his face going blank. The guilt I carry like a stone in my stomach grows until it feels like it will break me in two. I hate all of this, myself included.

“You’ll have a boat on loan. As soon as the fight is done I’ll have the boys bring it around.”

“Bring it around now,” Ryan says, his voice low. Quiet.

Marlow raises a surprised eyebrow at him. “And why would I do that?”

“We agreed you’d lend us a boat if I fight. I’ll fight, I gave my word. But win or lose, these two get the boat. So I’ll go to the Arena from here and you’ll have the boat brought around.”

“Win or lose, as in live or die?” I ask him. Sick of being ignored, I get into his space, forcing him to look at me.

He glances down at me. His normally warm eyes are hard. Empty.

“Yes.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Marlow agrees. I can feel his eyes on me. I can feel him thinking. “Just as a point of curiosity, what did Vin price you as?”

I shouldn’t tell him. I should shut up. I should lock it down. I should lie and tell him I’m a dime. Nothing better than blank-faced Brea

“He called me a Benjamin,” I tell him fiercely, looking him hard in the eyes.

He grins, his face openly surprised. “Really? Wow.” He looks me up and down, appraising me in new light. I can feel Ryan’s eyes on me too. I don’t know what they hold. I can only handle the weight of Marlow’s stare at the moment. “Well, he is the professional. I never would have seen it but… he would know, I suppose. Interesting.”

No one asks him why it’s interesting. I have a feeling everyone else already knows.

“Rex,” Marlow calls out, still looking at me with a luminous grin. “Get the maps. They’ll need to take a look at them before they go. We wouldn’t want them getting lost. Not with my boat.”

Rex brings in a large roll that he spreads out on a table. It’s an old map of the Sound and Seattle from back when streets had names and places had purpose beyond shelter from the storm. It looks nothing like Crenshaw’s and I miss the naked mermaid happily telling me hello. This map feels cold in comparison.

“We have so many maps here. Of the entire world, what’s left of it,” Marlow muses, pouring over the paper. “Every corner mapped out, every story told. It’s a shame really. No matter how exotic a locale, it’s made almost boring. Mundane.” He looks up at me with that creepy grin again. “There are so few uncharted territories left. So few untouched lands. They’re a gem when you can find them.”

I stare at him blankly, silently. I don’t want to encourage this conversation any further. Partly because I don’t understand it, but also because I think I’m begi

Chapter Eleven

Ryan is led away by two of the guards, ushered out flanked on each side by them as though he were a flight risk. I watch him go, my stomach dropping out, my heart pinching in my chest. He doesn’t look back and I haven’t decided yet if that makes it better or worse.

Trent and I are given the rundown with the maps. We’re instructed on where exactly the Vashon’s island is and the best way to get there. Apparently everyone and their mother knows where this thing is but no one attacks it. No one bothers them. That’s very telling right there. Like this aquarium and the stadiums. Who are these people? What are we getting ourselves into by going to them? By going somewhere The Hive doesn’t dare to go.

I let Trent examine the maps, his crazy eyes absorbing every detail and committing it all to memory. I’m too distracted to deal with it. I keep thinking about Ryan, about where they’ve taken him, about what exactly this Blind business is. I really hope it’s not what it sounds like.

Finally, Trent and I are released. That’s it, just shoved out the door. Thanks for stopping by, get the hell out. They tell us the boat will be waiting at the end of the pier and we’re welcome to take it at any time. I’m relieved when Trent leads me through the entryway toward the shoe filled fish tank. I was worried he’d take me out of here, that Ryan told him not to let me see him fight. It would have killed me and I would have fought him tooth and nail to stay. No part of me believes that I could win in a fight with Trent, though. Even if I was fully healed and armed, he’d lay me on my ass.

He silently takes me back behind the tank, down another long, dark hallway, down a cramped flight of stairs lit with emergency red lights and straight into the freak show.

The Arena is my worst nightmares made real.

It’s a large dark room full of makeshift risers that creak and groan as people walk on them. They form a circle around a dome in the middle made of concrete with squares punched out to see inside. And what’s inside is what’s horrifying. Risen. Several Risen tethered to benches around the outside rim of the dome.

“It used to be a huge fish tank,” Trent tells me. He has to pull me gently along because my feet have frozen to the floor. I do not want to enter this room. “The part we’re in, the outside, is actually the tank. There used to be glass in those squares between the concrete so people inside the dome could look out at the fish.”