Chapter 40: Codename: Blackheart Chapter Forty

For the next couple hours, we keep to ourselves as competitors are called one by one to the arena for today’s sick game, but they couldn’t leave us here without some mind games, so during the last couple hours we’ve watched the corpses of three competitors be dragged through the lounge… and here comes a fourth.

Two masked men carry what used to be Kislota, through the lounge on a stretcher. I only know it’s her because she was the last one who was taken to the arena. Her body has been split in half, cut right through the centre of her torso. The edges over the wounds aren’t smooth, they’re brutal and garish and the parts of her entrails that are spilling out look like they were put through a meat grinder. Whatever cut through her did so by sheer force and not from sharpness. As they carry her away in pieces, her wide, fearful, olive-green eyes meet mine and I feel my stomach tighten in a knot.

“Blackheart,” one of the masked men calls. I look up, feeling my stomach tighten further and then do my best to push the feeling back into the furthest recesses of my mind.

I get up and walk over to the man as he escorts me out to the arena as tens of thousands of people begin to cheer ‘Blackheart’; my name quickly turning into a chant. Are they chanting for my survival or my demise? I have no way of knowing.

The masked man guides me to a marker at the end of the arena. I take my place on it and watch him walk away. I look up at Hexton at the other end of the arena, standing on his lofty platform addressing his adoring fans and I have to try to keep my breakfast down.

“Blackheart,” he says, looking down at me as a hush falls over the crowd, “Yesterday you impressed us with your intelligence and confidence. Today we want to see your endurance. Welcome to round three, the obstacle round!” he cheers, as the crowd once again breaks into thunderous applause.

I feel the platform shake beneath my feet like I’m being rocked by an earthquake, but I quickly dismiss the thought as the floor of the arena retracts, opening up to an elaborate and death-defying obstacle course the likes of which I’ve never seen. My mum would often set up courses in the woods around our house for me, but that was to train my reflexes. This is something else entirely.

In front of me is a twenty-five-meter block of ice with a hole at each end allowing me to glance down into the frigid water below. Past that is some benign-looking rock climbing wall but I’m sure benign is one thing it’s not. Due to the wall, I can’t see what comes after that, but I’m certain it’s nothing good.

“Your task is simple. Just make it to the other side,” he says mischievously as his word scream how fucked I am. “Oh, and you have thirty minutes to complete this task. Your time starts now!” he shouts, instantly sending the crowd into a frenzy.

I look around at the jumbotrons and watch as they all depict a digital timer that has begun counting down. I ignore the clock and quickly step towards the block of ice, feeling the burn of its icy cold temperatures cooling the air around it and sending goosebumps across my skin. Would be so easy to just slide my way across, but they don’t do easy here. Given there’s a perfectly carved-out hole in the ice at both ends, I take that to mean I’m supposed to submerge myself in the water and swim to the other end. Once more I find myself sending a silent thank you to my family for giving me every tool I may need to get through this.

Grandma, wherever you are, you may have just saved my life.

~FLASHBACK TWELVE YEARS AGO~

“Are we going ice fishing?” I ask Grandma Talyssa as we step towards the frozen lake a good distance from our home.

“No, ingerasul meu. Today we train.”

“I’m out,” I say, turning around to head back home, but I feel myself being yanked me back by the hood of my coat.

“Alina, please take this seriously,” she says gently.

I groan and turn around, “Most kids my age would be going shopping or watching a movie.”

“You’re not most children,” she says, reaching out and stroking my hair with her gloved hand, “Now come,” she instructs as she carefully walks to the centre of the lake, being sure not to crack the ice beneath her feet. Carefully, I follow her as she places down a large duffle bag. I watch in awe as Grandma pulls out an ice saw and carves out a perfect square in the ice. She then uses a large ice hook to pull the block out of the ice. It’s always fun watching Grandma do stuff like this because she looks so sweet and innocent, but she’s also such a badass.

“Now what?”

“You’re going to get in the water,” she says, pulling a large rope out of her bag.

“It sounded like you said you want me to get in the water, which has to be like what? Zero degrees? I’m not getting in there,” I shriek.

Grandma sighs, “I don’t do this because I enjoy it, I do this to help you.”

“If you mention The Tournament…”

“It’s not just that. Many years ago, before you were born, I was forced to flee when a hit in Russia went wrong. I couldn’t just keep running because they would have caught up to me, so I decided to hide. But the trees were too skinny to hide my frame and too weak for me to climb. The only option was the lake, but it was the dead of winter and completely iced over. Still, it was either that or be killed. I found where the sheets of ice were cracked and submerged myself in the water. It wasn’t as simple as I thought it would be. I nearly drowned, and I would have died if not for your grandfather saving me,” she says gravely.

“How did Grandpa know where you were?” I ask, captivated by her story.

“He was my getaway ride,” she says proudly, “He was watching from a vantage point and saw me go into the water. He rushed to get me out and had to give me mouth to mouth, which I didn’t mind,” she says with a girlish smile on her face that makes me smile with her.

“And you now want me to master the art of submerging myself in ice water?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“You never know when you may have to think on your feet and hide in unexpected places, or perhaps have an accident where you fall into a frigid lake, or yes, be exposed to dangerous temperatures when you join The Tournament,” she says with a deeply concerned frown on her face.

I sigh, “Okay. What do I need to do?”

“First, take off your coat and shoes and I’ll wrap this rope around you,” she instructs.

“What’s the rope for?” I ask as I remove my coat and gloves and quickly hug my body as it’s exposed to the chilly air.

“This part of the lake has a particularly strong current, you could easily be pulled under the ice, so this rope will make sure I can pull you up,” she explains as she ties the rope around me.

“Sounds more fun by the minute,” I say sarcastically as I remove my shoes and socks, feeling the ice burning my feet.

“Before you enter the water I want you to focus on your breathing. Use everything you’ve learned from meditation to control your breaths and your heart rate because those are the first things you’ll lose control over. The moment your body hits the water you’ll experience cold shock, which is your body’s stress response to the cold. Your heart rate will rapidly increase, and your breath rate will increase four times its normal rate. You start to lose control of your breathing, including the ability to hold your breath which is why drowning becomes such a high risk.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

She nods, “It was so cold and even though I tried, I couldn’t hold my breath for more than a few seconds even though I knew how. I ended up taking in a lot of water.” I look down at the icy waters with trepidation, already feeling my heart start to race at the thought of sliding into that hole. “Cold shock lasts three minutes if you manage not to drown, but it will cause your blood pressure to go up which can cause cardiac arrest.”

“And you want me to put my body through this?” I ask incredulously. At this rate, I won’t make it to age twenty.

“I want you to teach your body to endure it. Train yourself to handle it by choice, so should you ever need it, you’ll have the tools to survive,” she says as she plants a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“This sucks,” I say as I squat down.

“I know, ingerasul meu,” she says softly, and with great reluctance, I slide into the water.

~END OF FLASHBACK~