Even the watch captain, Mad Dog, keeps his distance from me. He’s cal ed Mad Dog on account of the times when he’s so hopped up on chaal there’s no tel in what he might do. An he does plenty. To the guards, to th’other fighters. But not to me. He don’t dare touch me.
So I eat what they give me, ght when they make me, an look fer my chance to git away. I’l take any chance at al . A guard lookin th’other way. A door left open at the right time. Anythin. They can slam me in the Cooler al they like. I only got a git lucky once.
In the stil of night, I sit or pace my cel . I don’t sleep more’n a hour or two at a time. An that’s because the moment I shut my eyes, the darkness comes fer me. It slithers out a its hidin place to wrap me in its cold cold arms. It slides into my blood, my bones, my soul. It squeezes out al hope.
If I let it in, I’l never git out a here. I’l stay an fight in the Cage til I start to lose. I’l stay til I die in the gauntlet.
I’m afeared that, in the end, the darkness wil turn out to be stronger’n the red hot.
The moment I shut my eyes, it comes.
The darkness comes.
The darkness an the dreams.
I’m in the Colosseum.
It’s silent. Empty. Dark. The dead time of night.
I’m in the Cage, my feet bare, my clothes in rags. I rat le at the door, but it’s locked. I’m trapped inside.
I feel a pricklin at the back of my neck. Slowly I turn.
They al stand there. Every girl I ever fought. Every girl I beat an sent to the gauntlet. Locked into the Cage with me. They ain’t nuthin but shadows, their faces in darkness, but I know them. Each an every one. The color of her eyes, the shape of her nose, how the fear smel s on her skin.
They start movin, glidin towards me on silent feet.
Fergive me. I whisper it, say it, scream it—fergive me fergive me fergive me—but no sound comes out a my throat.
They’re on top of me now. They surround me. They pul me down.
Thick darkness, like a blanket.
Voices. Whisperin. Mut erin. Sighin. But far away, so’s I cain’t make out the words. Then, Saba! Saba, help me!
Lugh’s voice. But when he was smal . Emmi’s age.
Lugh! I cal . I’m here! I’m tryin to find you! Where are you?
I dunno! Hurry, Saba! It’s so dark. I … I’m frightened. He starts to cry.
It’s okay, Lugh! I cal . I’m gonna find you! Keep talkin so I can find you!
I cain’t! I cain’t! Saba! They’re comin!
I cain’t! I cain’t! Saba! They’re comin!
He screams.
Lugh! I yel . Lugh!
Silence.
Then the voices agin. Closer now so I can hear what they’re sayin.
Too late … too late … too late…
No, I whimper. No! Please! Lugh! I’m here! I’m comin!
I drag myself out a the dream. I’m soaked with sweat. I sit up, my heart poundin.
I wait. It always takes a couple of minutes fer me to come to, to git my breath back. My blanket’s al twisted an tangled with the chain on my right ankle.
Every night I dream of Lugh. I never see him. Only hear him. Sometimes he’s frightened an cal in fer me, like tonight. Other times he’s angry, shoutin.
Gawdam you, Saba, where are you? What’s takin you so long?
But the worst dream is the one where he says my own words back to me.
I’l find you. Wherever they take you, I swear I’l find you.
Over an over, never endin until I wake up an it stops.
Some nights I fal back to sleep after the dreams, other nights I lie awake an wait fer the dawn to creep into the cel block. I rol my blanket unner my head, lie back an wait to see what it’s gonna be tonight.
Was it a bad ’un this time? A whisper from the cel next to mine. The one where they keep al th’other female fighters locked up together.
I don’t say nuthin. I don’t like to talk to them I ght or them I’m gonna hafta ght. An none of ’em talk to the Angel of Death. They’re afraid of me. I reckon it’s bet er that way. I know most of their voices though an I don’t recognize this one, so she must be new. A low, soft voice. Nice.
I heard you last night too, she says. An the night before. Ever since I came.
Now I know. They brought in a girl three nights ago. Tal an thin. A bit sickly lookin. A few years older’n me, maybe twenny. She lost her first fight today.
If she hears me, that means the rest of ’em can hear me too. It’s dangerous to let yer enemy see weakness. Weakness can git you kil ed.
Then, it’s like she sees inside my head. She says, It’s okay. Nobody else knows. Jest me. I don’t sleep much.
I hear her shu e closer to the bars. I cain’t see her, not even her shape in the dark. The cel block ain’t got no windows. It’s lit by torches durin the day an when night comes, it’s black as black.
You lost today, I says. I heard ’em talkin. They say you didn’t even try.
I ain’t no fighter, she says, not like you. The sooner I lose, the sooner it’s al over.
You wanna die? I says.
I wanna be free, she says. I ain’t never bin free. Not my whole life. She’s quiet fer a moment or two. Then she says, D’you mind that they cal you the Angel of Death?
No.
The other girls’re afeared of you. They know that if they fight you, it’s the end.
I don’t say nuthin.
My name’s Helen, she says.
I’m Saba, I says.
Saba. That’s a nice name.
I pul my blanket around me an lie down.
G’night, Saba, she says. Sweet dreams.
G’night, Helen, I says.
An I sleep.
Emmi’s ggered out how to git herself into the cel block to see me. She’s started to come in with the water carriers. They’re the grubby kids who turn up rst thing every mornin jest before dawn. They come with their buckets of fresh water an empty ’em into the troughs that run along the edge of the cel s. Emmi slips out to see me an is back at work with her morning chores before the Pinches wake up.
It’s Emmi who whispers to me what’s goin on in Hopetown, who tel s me how the place works an where everythin is.
She’s tougher’n she used to be, that’s fer sure. You wouldn’t know her to be the same girl as left Silverlake that day. A couple of times she’s come in with a cut lip or bruise on her arm that made my fists clench, but fer the most part she manages to stay out a Miz Pinch’s way.
Emmi. On her own in a hel hole like this. Somehow managin to fend fer herself. Who’d of thought it?
It’s bin four nights since Helen rst spoke to me. Her an me talk a lit le bit every night now. I ain’t never bin much of a talker essept with Lugh, an since I bin in this place I’m out a the habit of it even more.
But I like Helen. She’s about th’only person I met fer a long time who ain’t crazy. An she ain’t afeared of me. Says she won’t live long enough to meet me in the Cage, so what’s the point, we might as wel be friends.
We always wait til th’other girls fal to sleep an the cel block guards do their last check. They sit outside til their relief comes on at daybreak, so we’re safe once we hear the door slam shut an the bar slot into place.
Then I slide o a my cot. My leg chain’s long enough fer me to sit next to her on the cold oor, with the cage bars between us. The warmth of her body puts me in mind of how Lugh an me used to sit, back to back, an how I could feel his heartbeat in my body, feel his breathin.