Arena 3. Morgan Rice

notice the blush in my cheeks.

      Ryan’s gaze stays on me as I eat. I can just about see his crooked smile from the corner of my eye. He’s looking at me so intensely my heart begins to flutter.

      “Your sister has a healthy appetite,” he says, speaking to Bree but looking at me the whole time. “And butter on her chin.”

      Bree laughs but I feel self-conscious, my blush deepening.

      “I was just joking,” Ryan says. “No need to look so angry.”

      “I’m not angry,” I reply sharply. “Just trying to eat in peace.”

      Ryan tips his head back and laughs; I’d been trying to get him off my back, but it seems as though my words have only encouraged him. His dark eyes twinkle.

      “So you’re the one from the arena,” he says.

      I swallow hard. “Who told you?”

      Then I notice Charlie looking guilty beside me. He must have already spilled the beans about our ordeal. So much for a fresh start.

      I don’t say anything.

      “I’m not judging you,” Ryan says. “Actually, I’m impressed.”

      At these words, Ben looks over. He’d been in his own world this whole time, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, but now he’s suddenly alert, a flash of jealousy in his eyes as he looks over at us.

      “Have you just come back from the fields like the others?” I ask Ryan, trying to steer the conversation toward safe territory.

      Ryan smiles to himself, as though pleased to finally have my attention. “Actually, I’ve been on guard duty this morning.”

      “Really?” I ask, genuinely interested. “How does that work?”

      Ryan stretches out in his chair, making himself comfortable, as he begins his explanation.

      “A group patrols the outer borders at all times, while a second group patrols inside, making sure everyone’s keeping to the rules. And to make sure no one gets too power crazy, we take it in turns, in a rotation. Everyone has to do it, even the kids. I mean, you won’t have to do it for a while since you’re recuperating, but – ”

      “I want to,” I say suddenly, interrupting him.

      The idea of sitting around doing nothing fills me with horror. If I sit around idle, my mind might start playing tricks on me again. I’ll see Rose and Flo. I’ll see Logan. I don’t know if my heavy heart could cope with seeing him again.

      “Well, you will eventually – ” Ryan begins.

      “Now,” I say, firmly. “Can I come on your shift with you?”

      Ryan gives me a curious look, and I can see his eyes are filled with intrigue and respect.

      “I’ll see if General Reece is okay with me having a tagalong.”

      “Make that two,” Ben says suddenly.

      I look over at Ben, and for the first time since we got here, he seems to be fully lucid.

      “You sure you’re up for it?” I ask.

      He nods, sternly. “If you think you’re well enough to patrol, then I definitely am.”

      Ryan nods, looking equally as impressed by Ben as he did by me. But I’m not entirely convinced Ben is well enough to come. He looks haggard, his eyes rimmed with dark shadows, and I can’t help but suspect that he only wants to come along because he doesn’t want to leave me alone with Ryan.

      And it’s then that I wonder: what have I just gotten myself into?

      CHAPTER FOUR

      Ryan leads Ben and me across the length of Fort Noix, heading for the arsenal, and as we go, I feel satiated for the first time in months. My stomach is almost uncomfortably heavy. It feels good. It also feels good to be heading to guard duty, to have a mission, a purpose, and something to take my mind off everything. Without it, I think I might go crazy.

      We pass plenty of people, all as clean and well fed as Ryan is; none have radiation scars or melted flesh from nuclear fallout. None are missing limbs or teeth or dragging a deformed leg behind them as they walk. I haven’t seen so many healthy-looking humans in one place since before the war. It’s almost disconcerting.

      Ryan walks beside me but Ben lingers a few steps behind. There’s an undeniably tense atmosphere, one I attempt to ignore by focusing all my attention on Jack the pit bull, who has been tagging closely at my heels as if I’m his master rather than Ryan.

      “He’s taken a shine to you,” Ryan says with a chuckle.

      Ben’s head immediately snaps up. He frowns. I can’t help but wonder why Ben insisted on coming with us. I don’t want him lingering around me like a dark storm cloud, casting suspicious glances in my direction. We’re on the same team, we always have been, and I don’t like seeing him like this. It reminds me too much of the way he acted with Logan; jealous, wanting more from me than I am able to give.

      At least Ryan doesn’t seem to pick up on the tension. He strolls confidently across the compound, like someone who has never seen real death or destruction. Not like Ben and me, whose very steps seem to reveal our past torments.

      “Here we go,” Ryan says with an air of pride as he hauls open a huge steel door.

      A cloud of dust swirls into the air, obscuring my vision. As it settles, I get my first glimpse of the treasures inside the arsenal. My mouth drops open as I step inside and take in the sight of pistols and sniper rifles, automatic crossbows and AK47s. I feel like a kid in a candy shop.

      As I scan the walls, something catches my eye. A shotgun. It reminds me of the antique one Dad used to have displayed behind glass at home. I go over to it and pick it up.

      “Are you sure you want to take that thing?” Ryan asks, as I test the weight of it in my hands. “Something smaller would be better for your stature.”

      In a matter of seconds, I lock and load the shotgun, before hitching it on my shoulder in firing position. I go through the motions expertly; thanks to Dad, I’m at ease with a shotgun.

      “I think this one will suit me just fine,” I say.

      Ryan’s eyes widen with surprise. He seems impressed by my knowledge of the weapons and I can’t help but feel a surge of pride.

      Ben narrows his eyes and grabs his own weapon, a rifle.

      “So you guys have used guns before?” Ryan asks.

      “Of course,” Ben replies, a little too harshly.

      I think back to the first time I met Ben, when we were speeding through the frozen wastelands chasing after the slaverunners who had kidnapped our siblings. He’d been useless with the gun, and had even dropped it at one point.

      “Ben’s more of a bow and arrow kind of guy,” I say, gently mocking him, trying to coax him into the conversation.

      Ben frowns, clearly not taking the joke well. Ben’s always been sensitive, but he’s clearly feeling more sensitive than usual. I remind myself to be more careful with him. I don’t want him to think I’m making a joke at his expense or that I’m letting Ryan’s jovial attitude rub off on me.

      “No problem,” Ryan says. “We have plenty of bows and arrows if you’d prefer.”

      “I’m fine with this,” Ben answers tersely.

      Ryan shrugs, once again seemingly oblivious to the building tension in the air.

      I then notice a wall display of knives. I go over and see the same kind of knife my dad had when I was a kid, with a military insignia brandished into the handle. A wave of nostalgia washes over me.

      I touch my fingertips to the cool metal blade. “Can I take this too?”

      “Of course,” Ryan replies, suddenly coming up very closely behind me. “Take what you want.”

      I can feel