Read Token (Token Chronicles) Online

Authors: Ryan Gressett

Tags: #romance, #Science Fiction, #Young Adult, #dystopian

Token (Token Chronicles) (15 page)

BOOK: Token (Token Chronicles)
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Zander salutes him, and Silon gives a quick acknowledgement salute back as he giddily marches back to his home.

Zander begins to circle us, inspecting our physiques.

“What Island are you two from?”

“Island 3,” we both respond.

“Did you fight there?”

Yency and I look at each other in bewilderment.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Did you fight? Back on my Island, we fought all the time, just for fun. Whether it was hand to hand, or sometimes we would even make our own weapons.”

“No, we did not fight back on Island 3.”

“It’s a shame. It would have improved your odds greatly. I believe it is the only reason I made it out alive.”

“Made it out alive of what?”

“The Melee, of course. I forget you fresh Tokens don’t know anything about it. Every Elite camp puts up fighters. If you win, you are set free. You trade your freedom for the imprisonment of one Token from each of the other losing Elitists.”

“And if we lose?” I ask.

“Quite simple, boys. You die.”

Die? What is this life we have been sold into? Why would they spend all the years raising us, feeding us, training us, if they were just going to send us to our deaths? What will happen to Isamar? This doesn’t make any sense.

“If you won, why are you still here at Silon?”

“I came back voluntarily. I offered to train all of Silon’s Token purchases for the Melee.”

“Why would you do that if you had gained your freedom after the Melee?”

“Because he had something I wanted, something I had to come back for,” he says defensively. “The more time we spend talking, the less prepared you will be for the Melee. So I suggest you just quit with all the questions and listen closely. Do exactly what I tell you, and you might, you might just stand a chance. I am your only chance to make it out alive. You should hang onto my words as if they were law. Understand?” Without waiting for a response, he continues, “Let us begin then.”

He jogs away motioning for us to follow him. He jumps down into the pit, and picks a sword up off the ground.

“Come on,” he says impatiently.

Yency and I drop down into the pit.

“Grab your swords.”

We both pick up our weapons. They are not real swords. They are made of wood. Although we never fought on our Island, we all have some skills with swords, axes, and machetes. They are the tools we use to harvest firewood.

“This is an exact replica of the arena you will fight in. The same size, the same set up. It is quite an advantage the fighters from Silon have.”

 He points to the fifteen individual gates.

“You will all be kept behind each of the gates,” he says as he uses his sword to point to each one.

 “You will wait for the sound of three gongs, and the Melee begins. Each Token is armed with one sword, no armor, nothing else. Scattered throughout the arena, will be other weapons, maybe even traps, but those change from Melee to Melee. The one constant weapon is the sword so we will hone and fine-tune each of your skills with this weapon. The fights are just as quick as they are vicious. You would be amazed at what you will do to survive. Of what you are capable. Especially with your freedom on the line.”

“What was it like?” Yency curiously asks.

“How about I show you instead?”

The gates all open and a Grod steps out of each one all armed with the same wooden swords.

“Let’s see what you two are made of. Let the battle begin.”

Everyone launches at us in a flurry of attack after attack. Yency and I do well, at first, but we are both eventually overwhelmed by the amount of attackers.

“You’re dead,” Zander says every time our attackers strike us in a fatal spot.

“Again!”

“Again!”

As the day draws to an end, Yency and I are both battered and bruised from the constant and relentless strikes against our newly re-formed bodies. Zander informs us we are finished for the day, and he takes us to our tents. Finally, something that resembles some similarity to our lives back on the Island. Yency and I are put up in a small tent outside the arena. There are several of them, all empty, none of which are close to the house. As I lay down, giving my body some much needed rest from the beating, I cannot help but worry about Isamar. If it is our job to fight, what is her job? I am thankful she is not out here with us. I do not want this same fate for her. A fate we are not likely to survive. But I need to know she is okay. I need to know I can keep the promise I made to her.

Yency is already passed out on his bed. I decide to go outside and walk about. I need to check the security at the house. Maybe I can get in there somehow if I can go undetected. Maybe I…… I stop in my tracks. I hear Zander’s voice coming from one of the tents. He has to stay out here too. I don’t understand why he would if he is a free man? Why he would choose to enslave himself to this life?

“You know I can’t. It’s not allowed,” I overhear him say.

“It is not fair. Wouldn’t you have wanted to know?” A woman’s voice.

“Do you think it will make it any easier for them? Any easier for me? You know I can’t stand doing this.”

“Then let’s just leave. We can find a way.”

“You know we can’t. Our chips won’t allow us to leave the confines without jolting us. Silon warned me if I ever tried to escape, if I ever left, he would take you back. Our agreement would be broken. I can’t risk it. I just can’t.”

“Well, it is killing you doing this to these boys. Forcing them to go through what you did. To do what you had to do.”

“What other choice do I have? I did it all for you.”

“I know, and I am grateful for you saving me, but we can’t do this forever.”

“I know, I know, but just give me time. I will figure something out.”

Drawn into their conversation, I unknowingly had drifted entirely too close to their tent. I accidentally kicked a rock outside. The rock makes a loud scuffling noise.

“Is someone out there?” Zander asks.

I decide tonight is not the night for defiance. I hastily make my way back to my tent for the night. Zander never discovered it was me outside his tent. Judging by the tone of his conversation, he may have been more worried that it was a Grod or someone else from the Silon camp. But the words he shared with that woman replay in my head over and over again while I lay in my bed restlessly. What did she want us to know? Why did he come back to save her? Sleep eludes me.

Our days are the same. Waking up early, training from dusk until dawn out in the arena. Yency and I have both been drastically improving, taking less fatal blows and dealing more out to the others. Zander has praised our development, but I can’t seem to concentrate all my efforts into the training. I know my life is on the line, but I have to talk to Zander, alone. I have to know what he isn’t telling us. I have already tried to get into the house to see Isamar, but it is more protected than the mansion for the Ambassador back on the Islands. The house is layered with security at every possible entry point. Grods are constantly patrolling the grounds. My only hope is to find out what Zander knows. To find out if Isamar will be okay if I am unable to make it out of the Melee alive.

“Let’s call it a day,” Zander yells out to all of us.

I am relieved. Although Yency and I have both been improving, I am worn down. The constant worry, the fighting, the thrashing to my body has been taking its toll.

“Tonight, Silon is providing us with a banquet. We are to eat like kings. Tomorrow is our final training day so I suggest you take advantage.”

Our last day, already. I don’t feel nearly ready enough to go into the Melee. To slay innocent men. I am not ready for it. But I have no escape. There is no other way out. If I want to survive, I will have to. But I can’t ignore the fact any longer that only one survivor walks out, everyone else dies. Yency and I may both walk into that arena, but only one of us can live. I have been so distracted with Isamar, I have overlooked this fact, but I am sure he has not.

When we get back to our tent before the banquet is presented, Yency and I strategically lay out our plan.

“I know, but we can work together until the very end,” Yency says. “We will fight side by side, and take out as many as we can. Our odds should improve if we can work together.”

“But what if we are the last two, what will we do then?” I ask.

“The odds of that happening aren’t great, but if it does, I would never kill you.”

“And I would never kill you. I couldn’t.”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that. We will have each other’s back until one of us cannot fight anymore. One of us needs to walk out the champion. One of us deserves our freedom, to have our life back.”

“Brothers by choice,” I say.

“Brothers by choice,” he agrees.

The banquet is a sober affair. Knowing for a fact you will come face to face with your mortality in a couple of days is daunting. But I am not here for the food tonight. I am here to speak to Zander. Every day after training, he goes immediately back to his tent, and he does not emerge again until the next morning for training. I will know the truth tonight.

Although the days are filled with a sweltering dry heat, the nights are bitterly cold. Yency, Zander, many of the Grods, and Silon are all around the giant fire. I was hoping Isamar would be here, or the mysterious woman from Zander’s tent, but no women are present.

Silon is the only person drinking ale. He has grown increasingly intoxicated in his gluttony.

“Zander, my boy, why don’t you go fetch us some more wood for the fire?”

He looks back at Silon with a fierce glower of hidden hatred. Something that would not be noticed by the casual observer, but those of us from the Islands know the look all too well.

“I’ll help,” I declare.

As I follow Zander out to the stack of wood, we both begin to stack logs in our arms.

“Zander,” I say. “I need to ask something.”

He pauses to look up at me. The light from the fire is faded, and we are out of hearing distance, but his face reveals his apprehension.

“What is it?” he responds.

“I heard you that night, talking to the woman in your tent. I overheard everything. There is something you aren’t telling us, isn’t there?”

The firewood drops out of his arms, and his hand immediately launches at my throat. As he has his right hand firmly clasped, he says, “You what? No, there is nothing you need to know. Forget everything you heard. Understand?” He glares at me with irritation. “Understand?!” he yells.

He looks back towards the group at the fire afraid they may have heard us. I nod my head in agreement as he lets go. He begins to walk away back to the fire.

“Get the firewood,” he barks.

“Wait!” I exclaim. “I would never tell anybody what I heard, it’s just… the woman you were talking to, she said you came back to save her. Save her from what?”

“What’s it to you?” he scowls back.

“The girl, the girl I came here with, Isamar. We are not just from the same Island. She is more than just a friend to me. I love her. I promised her I would look after. I promised to protect her. I have to know she will be okay here. Please, just tell me the truth.”

“You don’t want the truth. You’re better off not knowing.”

“I am begging you Zander.”

He huffs in frustration.

“The woman you heard in my tent was Mable. We were both Tokens from Island 7. We thought we were fortunate enough to be purchased by the same Elitist, just as I’m sure you were. But as you can tell, this place is not what it seems. The only thing that kept me going was Mable. I wasn’t fighting for my life in the Melee. I was fighting for her. After I won, I came back to Silon, I pleaded with Samson for Mable. I told him I would do anything. That’s when he put me in charge of training the Tokens he purchased for the Melee. If he was going to free her for me, I had to offer my life back to him. A balance had to be maintained. I agreed, I was desperate. That was three years ago.”

“And Mable, what exactly did you save her from?”

“That’s the worst part. After he released her to me, I heard the appalling stories. The things he used to do to her. I wanted to kill him, to rip his throat out. She convinced me not to. She knew I would only get myself killed, and she would end up right back there in his house, back in his control. So I stuffed my rage deep inside, and I have to restrain myself from attacking him every time I see him. Every time he speaks.”

In disgust with himself, he looks me in the eyes and says, “Benja, this is not a safe place for your friend. It’s not a safe place for anyone. The only way you are going to be able to keep her safe is to do what I did. You have to win. You have to come back here and offer yourself up to Silon in exchange for her. It’s not much of a life, but at least you will have a life together. You can save her from him. Let that drive you, and you may just survive.”

I am crushed. If I don’t win, Isamar’s life will be a horrible existence. I must win for her. Nothing can stop me.

Zander trudges over and places his hand on my shoulder. He says, “We need to make our way back, they will start to wonder.”

We begin to pick the firewood back up. Before we start to head back to the fire, he says, “Benja, there is one more thing you need to be prepared for. With everything you have on the line, with everything you are fighting for, you need to be prepared to do anything. Silon has a rite of passage he makes all of his Tokens go through before they enter the Melee.”

“What is it?”

“Trust me, it’s better you don’t know the details. Just be willing to do anything tomorrow. If you want to save her, you will. I did.”

He walks away back to the fire without another word leaving me wanting. As I make my own way back to the fire, I feel a burning hatred for Silon. I, too, want him dead.

Silon, in his drunken haste, proceeds to make a toast to Yency and myself.

“To my new Tokens, may you be gloriously triumphant in your quest, and may the spoils be abundant and splendid. Ha ha.”

He seems so jubilant and proud of himself. As if he is doing us a favor by wishing us good luck. The thought of having to plead with this man for Isamar’s life sickens me. But I will do whatever it takes. That is what I have to keep telling myself.

BOOK: Token (Token Chronicles)
4.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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