A Brother's Shadow: Murder, Friendship and Deception, page 4
5.
Water pattered onto pebbles as Archer hauled himself out of the lake, closely followed by Denis. They stumbled forward over unwelcoming stones before falling into a heap on a grass bank. Archer looked down the shoreline. It was as if there had been a shipwreck as bodies littered the beach. He stared down at his bare feet. They looked like dried prunes, and for the first time he noticed he had lost the nail of his big toe.
Archer decided the worst of the beatings must be over, so he sat up, took out his Ultra-gel and placed it by his side. He looked to Denis who was still lying flat on his back, his stomach repeatedly inflating as he took rasping breaths. ‘You reckon you could put some gel on my back for me?’
‘Um, yeah. Just a sec, you’ve got a load of grass in the cuts as well now,’ Denis said.
‘Cheers, lad,’ Archer replied, resting his eyes.
Archer heard a scuffle by his side and opened his eyes to see two boys jogging away, chuckling to each other. Confused, he looked around and saw his Ultra-gel was gone.
He scrambled to his feet. ‘Hey, you shits! Come back here!’ he cried, his voice going hoarse with fury. He sprinted after them, but they were both fast and had evidently had a lengthy recovery. Resigned to the fact he was not going to catch up, Archer spun around and unleashed a forceful kick onto a feathercone, a large feather-shaped seed of a tree native to Aurum Terra. The seed disappeared into the shrubbery and Archer instantly regretted it as the bristle had grazed the top of his foot. Hopping back towards Denis, Archer was more than aware of the giggles coming from those in the surrounding area. As he sat back down, he hit the floor with his fist, letting out a grunt.
‘Sorry, man,’ Denis said quietly. ‘I would offer you mine, but I seem to have lost it in the water.’
‘Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine,’ Archer sighed, while toppling backwards, no longer caring if he filled his wounds with dirt and grass.
‘Not used to seeing you angry.’
Archer was surprised that Denis had observed him enough to make the statement. ‘It’s something about this Testing,’ Archer replied before silence fell between them.
The duo’s peace was interrupted by a soft female voice. ‘Hiya. I saw what happened. Are you okay?’ the girl asked.
Archer opened his eyes to see a girl walking up the bank towards him and his eyes opened further. She had a slim body with its features emphasised by a tight swimsuit, which stopped just above the knees, and plaited medium-brown hair which hung down her back. Archer jerked upright to sit with his arms on his knees. He instantly regretted the speed of his motions. More because of the awkwardness of the action than the pain. He then spoke in as composed a voice as he could muster.
‘Hey, I’m good,’ he said, throwing a casual hand across himself, ‘can’t believe they mugged me off like that though,’ he continued, laughing at his downfall.
‘I know those guys; they’re absolute dicks,’ the girl said, rolling her eyes.
Archer smirked. ‘I’ve known them precisely one minute and I completely agree. What’s your name, by the way?’
‘Oh yeah, I’m Emily,’ the girl said, bringing her arms across each other in front of her hips, her cheeks turning rosy.
‘I’m Archer.’
‘Interesting name,’ Emily said, pulling a face of regret as soon as it left her mouth.
Archer had encountered this interaction many times. ‘Yeah, it is different. My first name’s Francis which I hate sooo…’
‘Aah,’ Emily said, letting out a puff of air.
‘This is Denis.’ Archer pointed towards Denis who was still lying on his back, seemingly oblivious to the conversation.
Emily spoke with her delicate tone. ‘Hi, Denis.’
He jolted up and, after quickly taking in the situation, went bright red. ‘Hi, I’m Denis.’
Archer and Emily looked at each other and shared a laugh.
Denis went redder. ‘What? Have I got som’in stuck to my face?’
‘Nah, you’re all good, mate,’ Archer replied, patting him on the leg.
‘I brought you my gel as I think you need it more than me,’ Emily said, coming in closer to inspect Archer’s wounds. A shiver travelled through Archer as her damp hair touched his bare shoulder. ‘Oh wow, you definitely need it,’ Emily continued. She tossed the gel to Denis who fumbled it before it fell onto the floor. ‘You’ll have to sort his back out, my mates are leaving,’ Emily said. ‘Best of luck for the rest of this thing,’ she called as she sprang down the embankment.
Archer and Denis gazed at Emily’s figure as she went off to her friends. Archer wished he had said something to make her stay.
After a period of reflection, Denis tentatively applied the gel. Archer said it did not hurt but the twitch of his muscles every time the wounds were touched told a different story.
‘Mission complete,’ Denis said, climbing to his feet.
‘Cheers, bud,’ Archer replied, also standing. ‘We should probably leave. We’ve lost a lot of time.’
Without another word, the boys jogged towards the opening between the trees.
The run consisted of two sections; the first involved a set path with some obstacles. The second section would allow them to find their own route to a cloud of red smoke, deep in the jungle, which rose far beyond the tallest of the trees. This signalled the start of the climb.
The pair soon reached the first obstacle. It was a fast-flowing river with its water, in many places, turning to a white froth as it battered off rocks. Archer made Denis hold back to let a fellow participant past. The boy charged straight at the river and after his third stride into it, lost his footing. With an almighty splash he was swallowed by the water. It carried him down and around a corner where he was spat out among the roots of onlooking trees. To worsen the punishment further, to return to where Archer and Denis stood, he had to climb through thick vegetation.
‘Guess we should be careful then,’ Denis said, walking to the edge of the torrent. ‘Sir Francis Archer, I shall gift to you the almighty right to go first.’
Archer replied in an opulent tone. ‘Okay, my dear damsel. I shall endeavour to find a safe passage, fit for a lady such as yourself.’
Archer placed a foot in the river, dabbing it around to find a secure footing. To start with he made quick progress. However, halfway across and beyond where the other boy had fallen, the rocks beneath became larger and much more slippery. The water was nearly up to his hip.
‘Follow me step by step,’ he called to Denis over the gushing of the river.
Archer was nearing the far side when he heard a yelp from behind. His head spun to see Denis completely submerged but managing to hold on to something despite the best efforts of the current to carry him away. Quickly retracing his steps, Archer came alongside Denis. Finding new rocks that allowed good purchase, Archer reached under Denis’s armpit and helped him return to his feet.
Denis coughed up water. He had gone pale and his hair clung to his face which was gasping for air.
‘It appears you’ve got your hair wet, my sweet,’ Archer said, continuing with his previous tone.
There was no reply. Instead, Denis looked down and raised the palm of his hand to see it gorging with blood. He clenched it then re-opened it. ‘My face has gone numb.’
Archer watched as blood trickled off the end of Denis’s fingers.
‘I’m never being your lady again,’ Denis said as he exited the river and began to run. Archer chased up the dirt track after him.
They soon arrived at the next challenge where guns were lined up along a wooden platform. Fist-sized balls which were rolling about among the surrounding trees occasionally flashed a small target into the air. The targets had a red circle surrounded by a yellow one. Instructions on the platform informed the participants that hitting the red would provide 30 points and the yellow, 10. To be authorised to move on, they would need to accumulate 500 points.
Archer picked up a rifle and drew deep breaths in an attempt to lower his heartrate. Composed, he skimmed the trees, waiting to strike. As a target appeared, Archer homed in like a hawk. His finger squeezed the trigger and the gun replied with a pulsing buzz. The target flashed, indicating where it was hit, and disappeared. The display mounted on the rifle showed a score total of 10.
With a face painted with determination, Archer moved between the popping targets. As his score grew, he gained speed and was missing less frequently. Occasionally someone would shoot a target he aimed for, but the platform was not particularly busy, so competition was not intense.
As another target flashed, indicating a hit in the red zone, Archer’s gun’s display became green and in bold letters appeared the words: you may now proceed. Archer turned to see how Denis was doing. Denis was sat with his legs crossed.
‘Oh, I thought I was quick,’ Archer laughed.
‘You weren’t bad, but shooting’s my thing.’
‘I don’t remember you being good at school?’
‘Do you even remember watching me shoot at all?’ Denis said. There was a pause as they both stared at each other.
‘I guess not,’ Archer eventually replied.
The pair left the platform and quickly regained their rhythm.
After a short time, they caught up with a crowd of runners. Up ahead was a fork in the track with a large sign which read: Options to final obstacle. Left 250 metres of stones and rock. Right 2000 metres of dirt track. In front of them, participants were mostly favouring the short route.
‘What you think?’ Archer asked as they closed in on the fork.
Denis was breathing heavily. ‘Don’t wanna be a wimp or nothing but I don’t back stones with bare feet, but we can go that—’
‘I was gonna suggest the stones but…’ Archer was also fighting for breath and swallowed a clump of saliva that had built up. ‘I guess, as this thing will take hours, we can make up time.’
The next section being straightforward running enabled Archer to tune into the nature around him. The sticky air carried a sweet fragrance. Small animals darted from their hiding places as the boys came near, causing a gentle rustle. Winged creatures fluttered through the dense green above and around them.
After eight minutes of solid running, they reached where the shorter track came out at the final obstacle. It was soon apparent they had made the right choice. The majority of the group who had taken the short route were sat in a small clearing, all pulling a range of grimacing faces. Some were rubbing the soles of their feet and some were picking stones from them.
As the boys jogged through the clearing, the final obstacle revealed its immensity. The jungle abruptly gave way to a vertical drop. At the bottom was more jungle but the trees could easily have been mistaken for bushes, so far away were they. Fifty metres across was another cliff face and between the two faces, a series of identical rope ladders lay horizontally. Denis gulped. He would never have been found climbing a tree, let alone crossing a cavern. The ladders looked relatively taut but observation of the two people who were attempting to cross revealed they were far from stable. Denis was slightly comforted when he saw there was a safety net below the ladders, although the drop to it was hefty and it was upwards sloping towards the cliff they were standing on. This meant, as they got further, a fall would not only mean having a longer trip back but also a higher drop.
‘Screw it,’ Denis said, going straight to one of the ladders. He got down on all fours, placing his sweating palms on the rungs in front.
‘You got this, lad,’ Archer said as he mounted the ladder to Denis’s side.
For the first ten metres the ladders remained almost motionless. However, from then on, with each rung the ladders tried to rotate and swing a bit more.
‘I’m really not sure about this,’ Denis murmured, his body shaking as the ladder rotated slightly side to side.
‘You know what they say, don’t look down and you’ll soon be at the other end. You should be enjoying this anyway; it’s our recovery before the next section of running.’
‘Argh, piss off,’ Denis groaned.
A faint murmur entered the air around them. Suddenly, a white object was centimetres from the right of Archer’s face, causing him to flinch and put weight on his left side. The rope ladder spun, and Archer knew there was no recovery. As he toppled sideways, he tried to reach for the rope but all he got in return was a burn.
The fall felt like an eternity and Archer had a flashback to the padded room in the cognitive task. He rotated so he was falling back first, tucked his arms into his front and brought his legs up. Air whistled past his ear as he begged for fortune to keep him in one piece. As his back hit the net, he could feel each lattice dig into his wounds. He was then returned in the direction he had come from, his arms and legs flailing free as if he was a ragdoll. The second landing was much softer. The net gently swayed as Archer lay, gazing at Denis above. He could not see Denis’s facial expression, but he was pretty sure what it would look like. Archer then realised that the white object which led to his fall was a drone. Slapping the netting, he cursed himself for reacting so much.
…
At the Grand Stand the onlookers provided a range of reactions as the screens showed the events unfolding at the rope ladders.
A male commentator’s voice sounded. ‘Well, folks. It appears our drones have claimed their first victim. Whoops.’
Julius turned to Helder. ‘Is it bad that I wanted him to break his arm there?’
Helder gave him a slap across the leg and did not reply.
‘I was only thinking about Marco,’ Julius said, leaning back in his chair.
‘Archer was eating at our table only days ago. In fact, he eats there more often than you.’ The sentence started matter-of-factly but by its end Helder’s voice had a trembling undertone.
Julius lifted his arms. ‘You got me there, darling.’ She looked at him with sorrowful eyes. Julius placed a hand either side of one of hers. ‘I’ll soon be in a job permanently in Vardova and that will all change.’
Helder leaned sideways, resting her head on his broad shoulder.
The images of Archer showed that within seconds he was already storming across the netting. His legs occasionally gave way as he got caught out by the elasticity, but this only momentarily slowed him.
‘We will come back to this participant, who I have been told is Francis Archer, later to see if he manages to cross at the second attempt. Now, back to the front runners who left the cavern twenty minutes ago.’
The screens then switched to dense jungle where a boy was being tailed by another not too far behind.
…
After expending a lot more energy than he was comfortable with, Archer made it back to the start of the ladders. Rather than slowing, he ran straight onto one and made ten big strides before throwing himself onto his chest. His ladder viciously tried to buck him off, but Archer leached on. A girl a few ladders across stared at him, stunned. As soon as the ladder steadied Archer swiftly moved on, one rung at a time, until he found himself halfway across. The drone was still hovering in the same position and Archer had to compose himself so not to show it his middle finger. It was then he noticed on the ladder to his right was one of the boys who had stolen his gel. To make sure, Archer moved closer. He was certain. He and Denis must have overtaken them on the run. As quietly as he could, Archer sneaked up behind the other participant. He quickly checked the camera on the drone was not facing him, and from what he could tell, it was not.
‘Hey, knobhead!’ Archer shouted, only a metre away.
The boy turned and froze, trying to process what he was seeing. Archer lashed out, kicking the boy square in the ribs. There was a dull thud – the unsuspecting boy had no chance. He fell, yelping as he went. Attracted to the sound, the drone spun round. Archer could not help but laugh as the boy was sprung back in the air by the net below, still letting out a high-pitched wail.
Archer’s glee was short-lived though. As soon as he fully landed, the boy yelled up towards the ladders. ‘Get the bastard, Jerome!’
Archer spun to see the other boy was on his ladder and was closing the distance at a frightening pace. Archer’s first thought was to get away. He was on a more stable section of the ladder but was losing ground fast so he soon decided the best option would be to face the threat. As Jerome closed the final metres, Archer started to analyse his opponent. He had a very similar build to himself but carried a scar the length of his chest and up the side of his neck. Archer noted how he seemed to be predominantly using his right side to propel himself along the ladder. He was not sure if this was due to injury or not but decided he should probably target the other side. The drone was performing a circling manoeuvre around both their heads. The two sixteen-year-olds crept to within grabbing distance of each other. Archer’s heart pounded as adrenaline spiked through his body. He listened to Jerome’s breathing and prepared to pounce.
‘These kids are crazy,’ the male commentator said, marvelling at the spectacle that was about to unfold. ‘They are both near the front but apparently time is not important right now. I hope they did well in the other tasks because this could set them back a bit.’
A female commentary voice spoke. ‘You know what, Steve? I do not think you care.’
‘Hah, you’re not wrong. This is the kind of entertainment we all came to see. What do you reckon happened between these guys?’
‘Knowing men, food, a girl or one claiming they had bigger arms,’ the female replied.
The crowd went wild as Archer sprang towards Jerome, unleashing a right hook. Prepared, Jerome dodged the move before grabbing Archer.
‘So… it begins!’ the male commentator, Steve, boomed, unable to contain his excitement.
The crowd watched avidly as the two boys exchanged blows, with the ladder swaying beneath them.
‘The second boy is named Jerome,’ the female commentator said. ‘It also appears a small crowd of other participants have gathered on the other bridges.’
