Desiree

Following Ryder's lead, I contorted and twisted the guards body, trying to stuff him into a hanging bag with a zipper up the middle. My body might have been able to fit in here comfortably, but not this hunk of meat in front of us. Blood smeared onto my hands as I shifted the dead man's head so that that the bag would be able to zip.

Ryder stood up from the other side of the body, his hands red with blood too. Our eyes connected and spoke a conversation that didn't need to be said aloud. We were disposing of a body together. This changes everything, binds us together .

I stood up onto my heels, my arms spreading away from my body, avoiding touching my dress with my stained hands. Looking down at the lumpy bag on the floor, I waited for guilt to flood through me, but instead I was greeted with nerves and a dark satisfaction. I pushed the last thought out of my head, not wanting to become that kind of person.

"Now what?" I asked, my voice quiet.

"We don't have much time," Ryder replied, glancing back at the alarm clock behind me. I could see the pulse in his temple throb a hectic beat, the same my heart was beating right now. He fixed his attention back on me. "Let's wash up. I'll run down the hall for one of those luggage carts. All of the guards are down at the bottom floor for the match, so no one will see me."

I turned to follow Ryder as he walked past me towards the bathroom. He flicked the light on and turned the knob on the sink, pushing up his shirt sleeves and staining them with blood, he sunk his hands underneath the faucet. I stepped next to him and brought my hands under his, water pouring onto my hands.

As we scrubbed away the death of the guard, our arms and hands brushed together, the sensation spreading across my skin making me relax and take a deep breath. I heard Ryder inhale next to me and sighed contently as he took his hands away, wiping them on the handtowel.

I washed away the rest of the blood before turning off the sink, and watched Ryder in the mirror as he rolled up his sleeves, hiding the blood smears. His eyes met mine in the reflection, a nervous smile twitching at his lips.

"I guess I'll go business casual," His deep voice lightening the mood. I smiled back at him, trying to comfort him as he was comforting me. "If this wouldn't have happened, the first thing I would have said to you when I saw you was that you look beautiful. And you do.. look beautiful."

Ryder suddenly looked away from me as if he felt stupid for saying something like that right now, but it was just what I needed. "Thank you," I said, smiling at him.

He looked back to me and nodded his head. "You're welcome." Without another word Ryder strode through the door and out into the suite on a mission for a cart.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to calm the mess that the guard had made of it. I wiped away the eyeliner that had clumped in the corner of my eyes and reapplied my smudged lipstick, my face appearing as it did before the guard had attacked me.

The sound of footsteps and wheels rolling, turned my head towards the door to see Ryder pushing the cart into the bedroom. It was one of the classic hotel carts with a gold frame and handles.

My heels clicked across the tiled bathroom floor as I walked to the door and stepped into the room with Ryder who was moving the body onto the rack of the cart.

“Get some suitcases from the closet,” Ryder said, lifting his head to look at me. “They always have them stocked in the closets.”

Opening the closet door, I found three different sized suitcases hiding in the back corner. I pulled the first one out, the biggest, and carried it to Ryder who placed it on top of the body, pressing it down to try to flatten out the lumps beneath it. I cringed and went back to the closet for the other two.

I grabbed the blue one with wheels and a small toiletry bag and set them on top of the large suitcase, making the cart seem surprisingly innocent of dead bodies.

Ryder grabbed the front of the cart and I stepped to the back.

“We're going to have to go through the lobby with this,” Ryder said, suddenly making me anxious. “So act as inconspicuous as possible.”

I tried to hold my voice steady. “Where are we taking it?” I took a step forward as Ryder began to pull the cart out of the bedroom.

“I'm thinking the dumpster,” Ryder said quietly as we neared the front door. “That is if the doors are clear of guards. I haven't really thought about what we would do otherwise.”

“Great...” My voice trailed off, following Ryder out the front door and down the hallway towards the elevator.

I constantly flicked my gaze around the hallway and looked over my shoulder, scared that someone might be watching us. Even though our load looked normal, I felt as if there was a big sign across the top of the cart that said 'Dead Body Here' with an arrow pointing down, revealing us to the world.

Ryder seemed calm and collected on the outside as he pressed the button for the elevator, but I knew that his insides were bubbling with mine. If we got caught, we would be dead and so would Ryder's sister and Aundrea. I took a deep breath trying to calm myself down and hoping that I looked as serene as the man beside me.

The light above the elevator dinged on the doors slid open, showing us an empty compartment. A gust of air escaped from me in relief at not having to see anyone yet.

Ryder pressed the round first floor button and the doors closed, engulfing us in horrible elevator music. The constant thrumming of my heart droned in my head, blocking the music out and I looked to Ryder. He was already looking at me.

“It's going to be alright,” He whispered to me, his deep blue eyes pleading with mine. “Just stay calm and we can get through this.”

I bit my lip and nodded my head, letting him know I could do it.

The doors opened revealing a crowded lobby, filled with schmoozing men and women and guards dressed in black. Ryder made the first move and pulled the cart out of the elevator with me in step behind him.

I avoided eye contact as much as possible with everyone, especially the guards, and tried to look focused on making sure my heels hit the floor correctly. I'm sure Ryder and I were a sight, dressed up, pulling a cart of luggage like we were bellhops.

Each step through the lobby and the aisles of slot machines, felt like an eternity. It was like I was under a spotlight, drawing so much attention to me, even though no one was looking in our direction.

Ryder turned us down a hallway with doors at the end, leading to the back lot of the hotel. We quickened our pace when we saw the doors were free of guards and just when we thought we were home free, a voice stopped us.

“Ryder,” The familiar voice boomed behind us. “Desiree, what are you doing here? The match starts soon.”

We both turned around, my palms begining to sweat, and saw Turner walking towards us, smiling. His hair was slicked back as usual, but tonight he was wearing a navy blue suit with a silver tie. I could hear Ryder breathing deeply next to me, trying to gain his composure, as Turner closed the distance between us.

“What's all this?” Turner said motioning to the cart filled with luggage. And a dead body, I thought to myself frantically.

“Trash,” Ryder said automatically, not technically being a lie.

“Trash?” Turner said his eyebrows raising. “Trash in suitcases?”

“Yes sir,” Ryder said, his voice not shaking like mine would be. He was strong and a smile spread across his lips. “If your employees would stock my suite with trashbags, I wouldn't be having to find other ways to take out my trash.”

Turner threw his head back and laughed. “I like you Ryder,” Turner said pointing his finger at him. “You've got a sense of humor.”

My body began to calm down at the ease of conversation, until I heard the small splat on the floor. My gaze slowly fell to the ground as Ryder and Turner continued talking and saw a spot of blood that had dripped from the hanging bag.

Just as Turner's attention turned to me, I stepped onto the evidence, covering it with my toe of my shoe. “Desiree,” He nodded his head to me. “You are dazzling in red.”

I felt a drop of blood land on the top of my foot, at the crease of my toes and tensed my body to keep from shivering as it ran between my toes and under my foot.

“Thank you,” I said, nodding back at him. “We've really got to get going if we want to make it to the match on time.” I pointing my thumb to the back door over my shoulder and prayed that I didn't seem suspicious.

“I love it when cage contenders are enthusiastic about the fights,” Turner admired me. He grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles lightly, before turning to leave. “By the way Desiree,” He said over his shoulder as he walked away. “I believe your toe is bleeding.”

My face went white with shock, then I was pulled away by Ryder to the back doors.

After unloading the luggage off of the hanging bag, Ryder and I each grabbed a side of it and hurled it up into the dumpster. As Ryder loaded the luggage back on the empty cart, I tried to collect myself, but my hands wouldn't quit shaking. I stared down at the black asphalt and felt tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

Suddenly, warm hands were around mine, ceasing the shaking. I looked up into Ryder's eyes, which were boring into mine.

“Take a deep breath,” He told me quietly. “We're okay. We did it.”

“B-but Turner saw the blood,” I said, a tear falling down my face, as fear swept through me again.

Ryder let go of my fingers and cupped my face with his hands, wiping away the tear with his thumb. “He doesn't know it wasn't your blood,” He said. “He can only suspect.”

I nodded my head and he released my face, my cheeks suddenly feeling cold without his warmth. Ryder grabbed my hand and my fingers twined with his as he led me back into the hotel.

I was in my own little world as we twined our way back through the slot machines and towards the big red doors of the theater. All of the faces of the wretched people at the bidding tables seemed a blur, and then I saw Vivian's unique red hair.

My eyes trailed to her face which was filled with an approving smile, as she saw my hand connected with Ryder's. I looked away from her and to Ryder who was off in his own world too. I nudged him with my elbow.

“Should we go in?” I asked him, not wanting to be under Vivian's gaze any longer.

“Yes,” Ryder answered, stepping forward and pulling me with him.

We made our way down the aisle of seats. I could feel the eyes of men and women in the audience follow us, the two cage contenders holding hands. Whispers seethed around us as we sat down in our seats towards the front of the theater.

Ryder

I kept her shaking hand in mine, the motive to calm her down but the heat radiating between us making me think differently. We sat in silence for a while, the whispers begining to die down around us.

“Who's fighting tonight?” Desiree asked me, her long hair brushing my shoulder as she turned to look at me.

“Evan,” I replied, looking into her eyes.

“Evan?” She asked skeptically. “I thought I heard bidders talking about a girl when we were walking in.”

I smiled. “Evan is a girl. Her name's Evangeline, but we call her Evan.”

“Evangeline sounds so pretty though,” Desiree said. I could tell that the conversation was calming her down, but her fingers were still laced with mine. “Why would she want to be called Evan?”

“Desiree is a beautiful name,” I said, her cheeks flushing a gorgeous pink. “But you like to be called Desi.”

“Point made,” She said, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smile. Her grip loosened around my fingers, her hand sliding away to her lap. My hand jerked to reach back for it, but I stopped myself and grabbed the edge of armrest instead.

Cheers burst through the theater as the red doors opened. Desiree and I both looked back to see Evan walking through them, her bitten arms swaying at her sides.

Her chesnut hair fell loose around her shoulders and her eyes were narrowed with determination and aggravation. She didn't like to fight, the same as the rest of us, but she had to because her father's life was at stake in a different camp.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched Desiree take her in, and her ice blue eyes were sad. I leaned closer to her, letting our arms brush together.

When Evan was in the cage the infected was brought in, towed by guards. The writhing, snarling girl was missing a hand and had bitemarks criss-cossing over her neck. Aside from that she looked remarkably like Evan. I glanced back and forth between the two, awed by the eery similarity.

The cage masters like to do this. They like to pair us up with infected people who get to us. Hurting that young infected boy, had tore me up inside, just as this replica of Evan would rip at her insides as she fought.

Evan's biggest battle, before the infection, had been against herself. She had told the rest of us of her drug addiction and eating disorder. The infection had actually saved her in a way, cured her of her diseases, but fighting herself again in the cage will only be a reminder of her dark days.

I looked to Evan in the cage and saw the war raging in her head, as her face turned red and her fists clenched at her sides.

“They like to pair us up with infected that will make us cower,” I said in Desiree's ear, not having to whisper over the roar of the crowd as the infected girl and a guard entered the cage.

Desiree looked to me, terror filling her eyes. “Why would they do that?” She asked.

“Let's us know who's in charge,” I said, watching as the guard handed Evan a knife.

“That infected girl looks exactly like her,” Desiree said, as she watched the cage too.

“That's the point,” I said, ending the conversation.

Evan lept at the doppleganger of herself, as soon as the guard closed the door. The knife she was weilding sliced across the bicep of the girl, a scream piercing the audience's ears, making them roar with enojyment.

Evan circled the girl, and stabbed the knife into her thigh, pulling it back out covered in blood. Another cheer came from the crowd, Desiree tensing next to me at their pleasure of others' pain.

The match continued like this for another fifteen minutes, Evan circling and slicing, the look-a-like wailing and stumbling. By the end of it the girl was crumbled onto her knees, an ear of hers laying in a puddle of blood a couple of feet away.

The audience basked in the glory of the fight, not caring who this infected girl might have been before the infection broke out. The hatred in Evan's eyes faded away and she kneeled down in front of the girl, her hand resting on her shoulder. The doppleganger tried to snap at her, but she was too weak making them feeble attempts.

Evan raised her wrist to the girl's mouth like she was offering water to a thirsty child. Now that her skin was close enough the girl's teeth sunk into Evan's skin and her eyes shut tight in pain. Reaching below the lobe of the infected's ear, she pressed on a pressure point making the girl release her clamp on Evan's wrist.

The black of the infected girl's eyes began to lighten into a green, her chin quivering. Both sets of eyes in the cage shimmered as they filled with tears, one falling down Evan's cheek. She quickly brushed it away and stepped out of the cage as the girl began to scream in pain.