Chapter 1.5 Tournament Start!

Our dinner of chicken was simple, to say the least. Roasted chicken with spices from the little garden out back. With most of the resources being from the farms past the 7th sector, being able to have meat is a rarity. Even as simply cooked as it was today, it was well appreciated, especially compared to the normal rations. We didn't talk much until after the meal and we were cleaning up.

"Hey Lestona, what's the plan for Tournament? Same as last year?" Ryan asked.

"Should be. Since we're the smallest group, we'll have the hardest time collecting points, so we'll split what we can do." I said, putting down the knife I was washing.

* * * * *

A few weeks had passed since the rain had fallen, and the preparations for Tournament were nearing completion.

I leaned back against a rope, holding an obstacle in place while Irontooth, the Bear gang leader, secured it. A week ago, I'd officially announced my involvement with the tournament, and I'd recieved an immediate challenge from Irontooth and several of the other leaders. Currently, we were setting up for an obstacle race, one that I'd be participating in.

"We're clear." Irontooth said. "You can let go of the rope now."

I set the rope down, and crouched on top of one of the walls. "So, how have things been going?"

"The newbies are handling well, and we've got some promising kids this year. After you settled that matter with Raven, there haven't been any disputes over territory, so things have been rather peaceful." Irontooth picked up a pile of stakes and set off for the next location.

"That's good. Have you heard anything more about those from beyond the walls?" I wound the extra ropes around my arm and followed Irontooth.

"Yah. There's been an odd increase of people coming from outside the wall. Not only are they sick or starving, many of them don't any sort of identification."

"Like when Raven first got here?" We lash the stakes together into a bridge as we talk, stretching the bridge over one of the outer roadways.

"Almost exactly. The only difference now is that it's only a few people at a time. It's not that unusual to have people come from other cities when they collapse, but this is strange. On top of that, most of them are refusing to even say anything about why they left, or even which city they came from." He looks up at me, and seeing my surprise, just shrugs. "For the most part, they're staying outside the first wall while they recover."

"What about the people who did say anything?"

"A few are with Raven right now. It seems at least one of the groups was from Azafrán's Panthers, Raven's runner Creelsky recognized one. All they would say was that Azafrán's gotten worse since Raven left. I might have said it was The Waste's doing, but I've never seen anything like this." Irontooth frowned, his bushy eyebrows drawing close together.

"Alright. I'd like you to continue to keep an eye on this, even if neither of us win this year."

"Are you really that worried?" He raises a brow as he asks.

"Of course I am. You saw what happened last year, I barely won against you, much less anyone else." I look up from the last knot on the bridge. "What?"

He shakes his head and gives one last tug on the ropes. "Oh, nothing."

He walks off, leaving me to think over what he's said. The increase in outlanders was worrying, but not unmanageable. It wasn't bad to have more people working the fields, even if it did also mean more mouths to feed. But what left me stumped was Irontooth's almost disbelief of my concern over the Tournament challenges this year.

Last year, my final opponent had been Irontooth, and he'd given me a really hard time. Besides him being almost two meters tall, he's built like his gang's namesake animal. It was a wonder I beat him at all.

* * * * *

Almost every gang member was gathered in the arena today, even some former members as scouts. This would be the beginning of the 75th annual tournament, and it would last for nine days. In the middle of the arena, the leaders of almost every gang stood, holding their gang's standard. All but one.

I look over at Drake standing next to me, holding the banner of Wolfpack, a dark blue howling wolf's head on a silver sun. I take a deep breath before striding out into the field, Drake following behind. Once we reach the other leaders, Drake stops in line with the rest and I continue a few steps farther. I stop and scan the crowd before I raise my hand. The chatting stops as they all turn to look at me.

One last deep breath, before I clench my fist and declare for all to hear,

"The Tournament. . . has begun!"