Defiant: A Young Adult Dystopian Novel (Designed Book 2)

Elias must have been very busy working on preparing for the games because I barely saw him for the next day and a half.

In fact, he came in so late at night and left so early in the morning, we didn’t really speak until the day of the Trials.

He woke me early and encouraged me to get up and get dressed. When I attempted to make conversation as we had breakfast together in the tent, he seemed distracted and gave me only short, perfunctory responses, keeping his eyes trained on his plate instead of looking at me.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Did you have trouble sleeping?”

“I slept fine,” he grunted. “I’ve just been burning the candle at both ends. And I’ve been doing a lot of ‘peopling’ the past two days. Some of the guys talk a lot.”

I hadn’t known him all that long, but I was starting to be able to read Elias’ expressions—at least somewhat.

Apparently he hadn’t enjoyed the conversations, whatever they’d been about.

Or maybe he was trying to drop a hint that I talked too much? I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was for the best that I’d be vacating his tent soon if he found it such a chore to make small talk with me.

I tried again. “Are you looking forward to the games?”

And getting rid of me?

Elias looked up from his plate and shot me a dark glance from under his lowered brows.

“Are you?”

Taken aback by his gruff tone, I said, “Well, as you know, I’d rather they weren’t happening at all. But since it’s apparently unavoidable, I guess I’m looking forward to seeing what they’re like. And to finding out which guy is the first I’ll be turning down as my champion.”

The darkness in his expression lifted a bit, allowing a few rays of sun to peek out.

“Sorry I’m so grouchy today. I’m just relieved it’s finally here and ready to get all this over with.”

Oof. That felt like a punch to the solar plexus. He was looking forward to being rid of me.

I pushed away from the small table and said I needed to visit the bathroom tent, though I didn’t really. Pushing open the flap and stepping out into the morning air, I fanned my face, trying to keep tears at bay.

Don’t cry. He’s not your boyfriend. He’s not your friend. He’s just a glorified bodyguard. And now you’re clear on that.

It was unfortunate our last moments alone together had to be so unpleasant, but at least Elias was being honest with me.

After he’d confided in me about his escape and I’d caught him watching me sleep the next morning, I’d started sort of wishing he would enter the competition.

Now I could nip that silly fantasy in the bud. Not only would it cause problems in the Haven for him to compete—he didn’t even want to.

Elias came out of the tent to find me waiting for him on the platform.

“Eager to get going, huh?”

“Aren’t we all? Lead the way.”

We descended the various rope ladders and platforms until we reached one that had been set up as a viewing area. There was a large scoreboard hanging in the center of it.

“Where will the games take place?” I asked.

“All around us.” Elias pointed to one particularly tall tree. “The climbing competition will be right there. The competitors are timed and climb individually. The fastest to the top is the winner.”

Directing my attention to a set of targets off to one side, he said, “The archery contest will be there. There are also footraces, which will happen on the ground as well as a balance and agility test up there.”

He pointed above our heads, and I looked up to see a rope strung tight between two thick trunks. A tiny platform stood at each end of of it.

“What will they do there?”

“Walk across,” he said as if it were obvious.

It didn’t seem obvious to me. It seemed crazy. Now I was extremely glad Elias wouldn’t be competing.

“So the winner is the one who doesn’t plummet to his death?”

He grinned at my horror-stricken expression.

“People will fall— they always do. No one will die though.”

He squinted as he pointed to the corner of one of the platforms. “There’s a net made of spider-mesh. You can see it if you look just below the platforms. It’s transparent and thin as web silk, but it’s strong. None of the competitions is deadly—there are few enough of us as it is. But no one wants to fall because that’s instant disqualification.”

Spinning in a slow circle, I checked out the other game zones. One featured a log suspended from high branches by a length of hyper- weave cord on each end.

“What’s that one?”

“Sumo wrestling—Haven style. Competitors sit on the log facing each other and try to throw each other off. It takes upper and lower body strength because your legs hold you on, and you use your arms and core strength to try to unseat the other guy. It’s a lot of fun.”

“You’ve done it?”

“I’ve done all the games—not in competition, but in practice. For fun, you know.”

Looking at Elias’ powerful arms and strong legs I imagined he’d have excelled at all the games. Well, maybe not the terrifying tightrope walk. It seemed a lighter guy with smaller feet might be better at that.

Anyway, it didn’t really matter. He wouldn’t be competing today. Instead, he’d sit in the observation area with me and Ketta and Jolie.

My two friends arrived in the viewing area shortly after Elias and I were seated. They smiled when they saw me and rushed over to take their own seats.

Ketta leaned a shoulder against mine and squealed. “Isn’t this exciting?”

“It’s interesting, that’s for sure,” I said. “Are you nervous about tonight?” “I am,” Jolie blurted at the same time Ketta said, “No way. This is going to be fun!”

Baffled, I asked, “Did they explain to you how this works? Tell you what happens after the Trials end?”

“Yeah. Everybody wants us, and we get to pick our favorite guy,” Ketta said.

Jolie’s voice was much less buoyant. “Here they come.”

The opening ceremonies consisted of a welcome by Elias and then he announced each competitor by name. There were about thirty in all.

“As always, the Trials will remain open to new competitors until sunset—in case you’re still on the fence about joining,” Elias said.

Then each contestant walked past him for a handshake, offering a nod or a smile to my friends and me.

Speck didn’t stop to shake his leader’s hand. Instead he strolled right past him and stopped directly in front of me.

Then he did smile—and it made my skin crawl.

“You might as well put my name on the leaderboard right now,” he said. “The other guys can just go back to their tents, because I’m going to win.”

He gave me a long, lewd perusal. “You’re practically naked in my bed already.”

Beside me, Elias stiffened, and his fists clenched at his sides. He said nothing.

“You’re the one who should just go home because none of us wants you,” I informed Speck. “I’d never choose you. You’re just wasting your time. And your breath—which stinks by the way.”

He laughed out loud, exposing me to another cloud of putrid air. “You’re acting like you’ll have a choice, sweetheart. When I win, you won’t be able to stop me from taking you. No one will.”

He slid a sneaky side glance at Elias.

“Not even our fearless leader—not unless he wants a community-wide mutiny on his hands,” he gloated. “A lot of people are upset at the liberties he’s already taken. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that you’ve been sleeping in his tent since you got here instead of with the other girls.”

Leaning in close as if whispering to a co-conspirator he added, “That’s alright. I don’t mind sloppy seconds.”

Then he stuck his tongue out and wiggled it in a gross up-and-down gyration.

“Move along, Speck,” Elias ordered. “You haven’t won anything yet. Actually, come to think of it… you haven’t won ever.”

Speck scowled at Elias and stalked away, but I was shaken. That guy wasn’t just disgusting—he was scary.

Elias must have noticed my reaction because he whispered, “Don’t worry about him. It’s just trash talk—and he’s just trash.”

—

The competitions lasted all day. As the afternoon progressed, more guys entered the Trials, apparently unwilling to miss their chance.

Who knew when more girls might arrive here—if ever?

It was interesting to watch. I was amazed by the athleticism of some of the guys.

A couple in particular seemed to be leading the pack. Titus was a pale blond with icy eyes and a confident smile. He looked very strong, as did Dann, who was a little shorter but had a bull-like build.

Unfortunately Speck was also doing well. Though he didn’t appear to be as athletic as the others, he was scrappy, and his name stayed in the top quarter of the scoreboard all day.

During each event, he wore an expression of fierce determination as if his life depended on coming out on top.

Watching his name move up the leaderboard, I felt like my own life was hanging in the balance.

Ketta and Jolie both seemed to have picked a favorite frontrunner to root for, cheering them on loudly and flirting with them throughout the day.

All I cared about at this point was that someone—anyone—advanced and put Speck out of the running.

The cutoff deadline for entry hadn’t come yet, but it was becoming clear there would be no more entrants. Speck was in third place now. Though he trailed Titus and Dann, he’d accrued so many points it would take a miracle for any newcomer to overtake him.

Panicking, I leaned toward Elias, who’d been very quiet for the past hour.

“Can’t you disqualify him?” I pleaded in desperation. “Is there some sort of technicality like you said?”

Elias looked dismayed, but he gave it to me straight. “No. I don’t like him any more than you do. But he hasn’t broken any rules—for once.”

I gripped his arm. “You promised my friends and I would be okay. You promised. You said we’d have a choice and that you’d make sure I was with a good guy. Is he a good guy?”

Elias’ dour expression told me all I needed to know.

“You heard what he said. He wants me,” I reminded him. “He said he’ll have me whether I agree or not.”

Elias just stared straight ahead, his eyes locked on the scoreboard as he worried his bottom lip with his teeth.

The arbiter in charge of keeping the clock stood and walked to the front of the observation platform, holding one arm high as he kept an eye on his timepiece.

“The Trials will close to new entrants in five minutes. This is your last call. No late entries will be accepted.”

He splayed the fingers on his raised hand. After a minute, he folded one of them. “Four minutes.”

I started looking around. For what, I wasn’t sure. An escape chute? A hiding place?

All I knew was I didn’t want to be here on this platform when Speck’s name was announced as one of the top three scorers.

A nice memory wipe and reset courtesy of Apollo Gideon was actually looking like a good alternative at this point.

What would Elias do if I went and hid in his tent? Would he drag me out and hand me over to my “champion?”

When the arbiter’s time hand went down to a single finger, I decided to find out. I rose from my chair.

“I have to go. I have to leave the Haven.”

Elias’ arm came out and stopped me, pushing me back down into my seat again.

Pushy jerk.

Did he not care at all what happened to me? Was he really okay with me being forced against my will to do anything and everything Speck—

“Put my name on the board.”

Elias deep voice echoed like thunder through the trees. Maybe it just seemed that way to me.

He was on his feet, striding toward the timekeeper.

“I’m entering the Trials.”