2.4 | Knight In Distress ✓

13 | knight in exchange

1 3

k n i g h t   i n   e x c h a n g e

It was Liam, not Marcel, who broke the news about the tenth round. He'd arrived at the shack one afternoon, during our break, and sat Marcel and I down at the table, a grave expression in his eyes.

"So? What is it?" I asked quietly, well aware that Ean was still at the front of the shack doing the packing. I knew he was dying to listen in on our conversation, but I was adamant that he stayed put where he was. There was no way I was dragging Ean into this, especially when I could tell from the glint in Liam's eyes that the tenth round wasn't anything to be trifled with.

Liam leaned back in his chair, propping an arm up on the back of Marcel's. "I'm sure you already know what it is, Darce. Miles didn't seem surprised when we told him."

I frowned in confusion. And then the conversation Miles had had with Keith and Vince so long ago dawned on me. The memory of that was so fresh in my mind - every memory about Miles was clear as crystal - it almost seemed like it happened just yesterday. "The elephant walk?" I blurted, horrified. "I thought Corvus didn't do that!"

He visibly winced before scowling at me. "Of course not, we're not that bad. It's the Durden."

"What's - " and then I remembered it, all of it.

A free fight. Without shirts or shoes, lasting for as long as possible, until someone says "mute".

I knew it even better now that Miles had convinced me to read Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club a while back. I had enjoyed the book, loved it even. It was vivid and thrilling and everything in between, but now that it was going to be played out in real life - I felt sick to the stomach. Fiction ought to stay fiction, because fictional characters couldn't hurt. It was terrifying when it played out in reality.

"No," I murmured, feeling a sinking feeling in my heart and and indescribable wave of hysteria rise in my chest. "This isn't funny, Liam, you'd better not be joking."

But there wasn't a trace of humour in his eyes. Even Marcel had shut up for once, her eyes wide and concerned.

"Well, do something to stop it then!" I snapped, when neither of them said a word. "You're one of the heads. Change the rules! Do something, anything!"

"I would if I could, Darce, but my hands are tied - "

"By who? Marcel?"

It was a joke, but my voice was laced with anger even as I said it and neither of them made to laugh. The shack was so silent you could hear a pin drop, and even Ean had ventured over to listen in on our conversation. He was leaning against the shelf, arms folded across his chest but his posture was stiff.

I could almost feel the tension all round, it sizzled and stung like the hot tears stinging the back of my eyelids. I couldn't even fathom why I was beginning to cry - out of frustration, probably, but the Hell Weeks had descended into nothing but anarchy and I could barely claw my way out, let alone drag Miles out with me.

"Darce," Liam began, treading carefully with his words, "you don't have to overreact."

"Overreact?" I gasped furiously, and Marcel's shoulders straightened, ready to intervene if I lost my temper and lashed out at him. "You think I'm overreacting?"

Unlike Marcel, he was perfectly calm. "Precisely. Listen to me, why do you think I'm telling you about The Durden? Miles now has a far greater advantage - "