The Change: Episode one Read online

  Daniel

  I let myself breathe once she was gone, but I knew I was on her list. It terrified me.

  I had listened to the muffled cries of the rented males I shared this cell with before she came in, sorry for them, but grateful it wasn’t me. Even now, I could still hear them begging to be spared…

  Freedom. I shuddered. I wanted no part of that, only a loving owner to take me away from here – away from Rankin. Using her authority as Head Defender, Rankin regularly tormented me, and many of the others. Beyond cruel, she was my nightmare, and I dreaded tomorrow, when she would return from her latest mission in the West. The best future I could hope for was to be won and removed from her reach.

  But not by that one! I’d seen Candice, watched her first match with the others and then hurried to my cot in fear. That one was not a bit loving. Nothing like the girl I sometimes still dreamed about. It used to be every night, but for the last year, it had only been when I was in fear of Rankin’s coming visit. Well trained, I hoped to use my skills on a female who was gentler. I had little hopes that it wouldn’t be a Changeling – who else could survive here? But I also wished for just a bit of compassion.

  My mind flashed back to Candice, to the woman who had paused at my door. She terrified me with her very presence. I’d get no sympathy from her. I knew it, and I couldn’t stop myself from trembling. I’d been in this complex for a long time and I didn’t remember my life before. I was told I’d had a fever that erased my memory, and had to accept that as fact. Even when I kept having the dreams of a childhood friend, I’d believed the story. Now, though, I’d begun to wonder. Rankin had let too much slip, and I suspected there was more to my being here than just the rules.

  I wasn’t trained for the outside world - that was something no one knew. All my education was in pleasure, and it added another layer of worry. If I was taken home by someone, she would have to train me… Except, that I had this sense my being here was just for show. The Network didn’t really want me free and I thought I knew why. It was because of my kids. I hadn’t learned what the scientists discovered, I’d never even been allowed to see my two children, but I’d been pulled from both the renting and the breeding program right after. For the last year, I’d been left alone…except for Rankin’s visits.

  I shuddered again. At some point, Rankin would push me too far, and I would kill her. She’d broken me in upon arriving at the complex, I remembered that very clearly. There was no one I hated more. To be free of her hold was a dream that ran second only to being allowed information about my children. Behind those two, was the anguish that rode me the hardest – the need to know how I’d come to be here. Hadn’t anyone loved me?

  Chapter Three

  Day 3

  1

  My guards following, I moved down the photo-lined hall to the arena to watch a match between contestants in a different game. I planned to make myself accessible between my own bouts. I couldn’t sit in that room and watch the clock, or I’d lose my edge to nerves.

  When I stepped into the arena, I was noticed. A small cheer rang out, and I grinned back with the feeling of playing their games so well that none of them recognized me for what I was… an imposter. I was infiltrating the Network to get my mate back, and my grin widened. The Network wasn’t the only ones who were adept at manipulating things into the path they needed.

  I moved toward the other side of The Block, where the actual view was distant, but made vivid by the giant screens set into the round walls. There were Network guards scattered over the levels of the viewing areas, and in the corner, medicos who used to be bachelors.

  These were males who had been returned by their new owners, or actually turned on them. Killing a male was illegal, even for the Network, and so they’d come up with the solution of making them medicos… after removing the part of their bodies that got them in the most trouble. They also took the tongues of some, or cut their ankles so they couldn’t try to escape again. The Network denied such brutal tactics, but the pale man in front of me had just limped towards a hand calling for attention.

  I saw the heavy-duty suture kit on his hip, the protective gloves, and wondered which of the animal games this shift had come from. Their boots were splattered in crimson, and the sight of a light brown feather clinging to one of their pant legs gave me the answer. They’d been in Vulture Run. Another weekly game, the winding path through a vulture nursery was no easy task, especially when you had only your bare hands to survive with. The prize for making it the full ten miles was a pardon for whatever crime you’d committed. The game was so popular because it had only had a dozen winners in the last five years.

  I turned my head toward the stage, but stayed alert. I had no protection while viewing the matches, only in my room and the halls, and an ambush was more than likely. I'd planned on being a target though, and it was good that I had. I'd no sooner settled onto a hard seat than another blade was sliding around my throat, and I was changing.

  Breaking the wrist like I had last night, I flung her over the benches in front of me, following with a neat roll that had my assailant sprawling and me on my feet.

  Made by trekking the apocalyptic wilderness for criminals, my thick leg delivered a kick to her ribs, hard enough to feel the break as my boot connected. I quickly slammed my other foot down onto her broken wrist, crushing it.

  Snap!

  "AAhh!"

  Her knife went sliding across the stone floor, and I leaned down to deliver the death blow, but had to duck a flying shard meant to sink into my neck. She had a partner!

  I spun again, snatching the light woman into a tight grip that only eased when she sagged, unconscious in my thick arms.

  "Stop! Don't!"

  The older female, her mother, pleaded with me, and I answered her the only way I could. I broke the Indian girl's neck and let the body fall to the benches.

  "No!"

  The mother shrieked in agony, the sound piercing my head, and we threw our knives at the same time.

  Hers sank deep into my shoulder, sending an unwelcome rush of heat into my arm as blood splashed my clothes... again.

  My blade was stuck in her throat, and I didn't stare at her stunned face as she fell. Nor did I remove the knife from my arm, choosing instead to stride to an unstained bench and sit down.

  I turned my attention to the restarted match and a medic moved warily my way. In the corner, I could hear the scanner whirling out a third star on my ID and I grinned. Those still watching me let out a cheer at my reaction.

  2

  Word spread faster than I'd hoped. Now it seemed I was the only one to kill, and the attempts grew bold.

  I eased the door to my room open, knowing someone was waiting for me. I hadn’t seen anything, but I felt it just the same. The room was dark - I’d left the light on - and I immediately rolled to the floor.

  I kicked the door shut, throwing us into darkness again as something sailed by my head. I registered the silenced shot as it hit the door and snatched the first heavy thing my fingers landed on.

  Guns were one of the few weapons contestants were forbidden to use, and I reacted as if on a run. I tossed the object to my right, drawing fire, and then lunged at the flash point.

  The next shot missed me by inches as I slammed into a heavy body and immediately found a throat. Feeling the gun turn, I jerked the assassin over and into the side of the stove, knocking dishes to the floor.

  She sprang to her feet, eyes glowing solid red as she dove for my throat. I swung the pan I’d found next to me and she dropped to the floor with a head-splitting noise that told me it was over.

  Instead of backing off, I used the attack for an outlet and hammered her mercilessly with the cast iron pot I'd used to make my meal.

  When I had my rage back under control, I dumped her body outside the door, thinking it was very convenient that the guards hadn’t heard anything. I knew better than to accuse them, though, and enjoyed the shock on their faces. They’d thought someone else would emerge from my door, and I grinned, finding their anger amusing. So was the resentful menace from my blonde hall-mate, and I enjoyed the thought that she may now be viewing my abode in the same manner I did hers.

  The next attempt to eliminate me came as I slept. Through the vents, and making so much noise that I had no choice but to let the guards in. It counted in the Games if they died in the assassination attempt, but if they were caught doing it in an illegal area, they were arrested and a replacement contestant was drafted.

  Not wanting to seem like they were shirking their duty (or maybe not paid-off this time), the guards got to her before I could, and she was arrested for breaking the rule. I'd rather they had let me kill her so I would have been one fight closer to Daniel’s freedom, but I said nothing as they dragged her limp body down the hall after clubbing her unconscious. We were on the Network’s dime here, and I was very aware of what they had over my head. I could only hope that they weren’t.

  3

  When sunrise came, I was ready.

  The noisy woman's replacement faced me in the cage after a wall screen interview by a short, bald female who I guessed worked as a guard when she wasn't filling in for chicken-shit reporters. She took it all in stride, not responding to or faltering on my sarcastic barbs, and I left for my match disappointed. Maybe the Network had my number on that one… maybe.

  "Cage Match Two!"

  Replacement girl was the Karate Teen. Her wide nose and crooked chin said her training to get this far hadn’t been easy. As she came through the fenced area, she did an impressive set of kicks and jumps that pleased the crowd and showed me where she'd be unprotected, revealing her weak spots. I might take a hit or two, but she would go down hard and not get back up.

  As usual, I was impas
sive to her moves, her hissed threat as we met at the dividing bar in the center. Cool and calm, I was getting my head set, picking my responses. She stood between me and what I'd come for. She would move!

  I took her off guard from the ring of the bell, turning as if to run. She was in the air for a nasty head-kick when I spun back, clawed hands reaching out.

  Karate girl struggled against the iron grip I had on her throat and ankle, and I slammed her down on my bent knee… as hard as I could.

  Crack!

  She went limp, head lolling, and I let the body slide to the mat as I stood.

  "Match to Pruett!"

  The rage was a blood red haze over my sight, and I growled in fury as I saw the menacing blonde in the balcony. She would be a real fight… "More!"

  I hadn't meant to challenge her, but I roared in anger when she turned away from me. Her disinterested attitude enraged me and I struggled to control it, to keep from flipping out in front of the whole world.

  The cheering was so loud! My head thumped painfully, and I shoved my way into the quiet of the hall, escaping the bloodlust, but not the guilt. I'd prepared for everything. The attempts, the schedule meant to weaken, distract. I'd even hardened myself enough to ignore him. What I hadn't counted on was my guilt, my burning shame.

  The four guards hung back, unsure of my mood. Perhaps they understood, but it was unlikely. I didn't feel bad for killing. I felt bad for enjoying it so much… for being so good at it.

  4

  Not scheduled for anything else until nightfall, I chose to spend the time with Angelica and my parents in their spacious rooms and I headed that way.

  The Network complex was immense. Set in what had been New York, one side of the ten mile dome was lined with the waves that had slowly crept closer over hundreds of years. Inside these stone and glass walls, thousands of lives were affected daily. From the Games and Network jobs, to the renting and breeding programs, this covered compound was like a city inside a city.

  I moved carefully through the door, and the hotel-like staff shrank back as I passed, recognizing me. They were carrying two slender body bags, and I grinned in return. The Pruetts were survivors - all of us.

  "It was amazing. She sent two of 'em out in bags!"

  My Father's excitement made it hard to reign in my impatience with the slowly crawling hours.

  "She can hunt with us now.” I confirmed it again. Angelica had been on our bounty-hunting crew for years, working for a share we all donated. If the Network had known, we would have been arrested, including her.

  "Please..."

  My Mother's distress pulled him to her side and drew a comforting hand on her cheek that made my heart clench with longing… and anger.

  Angelica shrugged at the praise, busy watching through the velvet curtain. These rooms had windows, all covered in narrow iron bars, but the view of New Network City was blocked by the hazy smog from the factory-type operations allowed to operate under the Dome. The Network had a hand in just about everything.

  "Angelica glanced at me before turning back to the window. “Good practice..."

  Her mutter was too low for my parents, and I quelled a nod of encouragement. Angelica didn't have a mate to rescue, but she did have something that had served other winners of these games well - the Change.

  Not soon enough, I left for my next interview and grinned widely at the part-time guard, part-time reporter waiting for me. With her shaven scalp gleaming in the lights and her broken nails in plain view, I thought maybe I had her pegged now.

  I leaned forward as the camera flashed to green, catching us in what I hoped seemed like an intimate moment. "You smell good. Like honey and cherries… the ripe kind."

  My tone was a caress. "Bet you taste good, too."

  Her eyes cringed, a secret exposed to the listening world, and I blew a kiss as she stormed from the set.

  "Next."

  5

  "Cage Match Three!"

  The round was called as I stepped through the door, leaving me little time to evaluate my opponent and I held myself under tight control at the sight of her.

  She was lean, dangerous. Her muscles rippled like a cat as she flexed for the crowd, and I placed her as the contestant from the jungles of Georgia. On the belt around her black-clad body was a thickly studded club and I noted the pointed edge of her boot, which probably contained a blade.

  The bar slid down, and I didn't react when she drew the spiked club, headed my way. I preferred a more hands-on type of killing, as she was about to learn.

  I'd always been good at hiding my emotions, my reactions, until the last possible second. Her thick club was inches from my head before I ducked and slammed my hardened fist into her abdomen with a vicious upward twist that snapped something inside.

  Jungle woman grunted, spiked-club falling from her grip and into mine. I smashed it into her head, feeling her skull give way.

  Blood and gore splashed from the spikes as I ripped the club free, sending me into that rage I still sometimes couldn’t control, and I began to swing repeatedly...

  “Match to Pruett!”

  This time, I was prepared for both the rush of fury and the guilt as the crowd went wild, and I grinned, giving them what they'd begun to look for.

  I was almost halfway through the contestants now. The luck of the draw had been with me, sending me against each new challenger first, until I defeated three in a row or failed once. Now the public would vote on the matches, or maybe the Network would rig them. From this view, it was hard to see a difference.

  The Network

  “What if she wins?”

  “Plans are in place.”

  “I hope they’re really good. ‘Cause she is.”

  “She’s a Pruett. Did you expect less?”

  “Yes, frankly, I did.”

  Silence for a minute as the two rulers watched the chaos outside, from the top tower window of the complex. A family of rebel sympathizers was being stoned in front of the Justice building, and the noise outside the dome was almost as loud as that of the crowd still celebrating the last Game inside.

  “Maybe you should tell the Bombshell she needs help.”

  A harsh snort. “She’s the best we’ve got right now, other than Rankin.”

  “Rankin is busy… but the reporter’s aren’t.”

  “Those spineless…”

  “Are under Network control, are they not?”

  A thoughtful pause. “Yeah. Maybe. The ones she’s embarrassed might.”

  “The Bombshell will know the right ones. Just make sure she gets the hint.”

  “What about the rebels?”

  The ranking council member gave a grin that Candice would have recognized for the violent warning it held. “Plans are in place.”

  The other member didn’t argue. With the big meeting coming up, anything could happen. The East and West coast only met once every 30 years. The next line of leaders was supposed to be chosen in two months, but the East had a surprise for her sister Network. Sharing control over this wild land was no longer an option.

  Chapter Four

  Day 4

  1

  I watched the percentage go up on the Defender and the Bombshell and felt my wires tighten another notch. The crowd had seen enough of me for the first matches. They wanted someone different spilling blood, and I already hated the wait.

  “We’re just about to see our two matches of the day, folks, and good morning to you! It’s a warm here in New Network City, almost 65 to start spring off right…and our first name for match one is…The Korean Killer!”

  My nerves loosened a bit, thinking she’d be a decent fight to start my day with.

  “She’ll be facing… Mutt-girl!”

  I sighed, stepping over to grab a quick meal while I waited to hear the second match. The first one would be played an hour from now, but the second wouldn’t be until dinnertime, to please the working crowds that gathered around their screens while they ate.