Page 57 of The Book of Luke

“It’s a cool fence,” I said. “I could look at it for at least the next ten minutes. You?”

He nodded, upper lip sucked into his mouth.

“If I see another noodle, I’ll go insane,” Camdon whined that night when we boarded the bus to the Trial. “I want some Pizza Hut, man!”

This was the seventh time he’d invoked Pizza Hut in three hours. “Is he always like this?” I asked Imogen, trying not to fixate on his unnervingly bleached teeth.

“Cut him some slack. There aren’t many people who say ‘As long as one of us wins’ and actually mean it,” she answered under her breath.

“I’d just think an Olympic athlete would be more… cultured.”

“You don’t have to be brothers.”

After forty-five minutes, we arrived at what seemed to be an abandoned construction site but was in fact our new Arena. We proceeded past the fleet of box trucks to a threatening iron gateway, soldered from chain link and sheet metal, an inscription in Chinese characters above. “Purgatory,” PB translated to my surprise. “What? I learned some basic Mandarin once upon a time. I didn’tplanto be a total disappointment as a son-in-law.”

Inside was a yard of gravel the size of a tennis court. Mounted cameras and monitors dotted one side, while square concrete platforms stood at knee height across the way like the bases of fallen pillars, one for each team. A complicated network of scaffolding, bungee rigging, and lights hung above, embellishing the brutalist aesthetic. We mounted our pedestals, and I stared down the line at PB, who flashed me a reassuring thumbs-up.

Melange quickly darted up, voice low. “Shawn said you’re voting PB? Luke, we can’t. PB said vote Royce and Solana.”

“He doesn’t have the votes,” Imogen interjected. “Do what you want, but PB’s the target.” I could only shrug at Melange helplessly while Zara called for places.

“Welcome, teams!” Ecklund proclaimed from the center of the court. “As you know, everyone except Tati and Camdon is vulnerable, and while you might be duos, you’ll vote as individuals—starting with Luke and Imogen.”

“PB and Greta,” Imogen declared, all certainty, though my echo was half-hearted.

Shawn suffered through his own vote for PB and Greta, but Melange just threw her hands up exasperatedly. “Royce and Solana.”

“Big mistake,” Imogen said.

Camdon was next, but he’d inexplicably frozen. “Drew, my daddy, Pastor Jim, raised me to be a provider and a protector, but I can’t protect people who’ll keep me from providing for my family at home,” he stated, voice cracking. “I gotta do what’s best for my own game… I voteLuke and Imogen.”

My first instinct was to burst out laughing, but I quickly suppressed it as Imogen’s head spun toward Camdon. His blubbering exhortations had trickled to choked whimpers when she finally addressed him, all stone: “Say it again. And look me in the eye.”

Like a shamed hound, Camdon repeated our names, Tati seconding with her clipped accent. Royce followed suit with a heaving breath, holding Imogen’s gaze and voting for us alongside Solana. So much for our new allies.

Erika voted for Royce and Solana, with Fortune and even Jiamin joining. After Aspen chose us (no love lost), Ecklund tallied the score: “Five for Luke and Imogen, four for Solana and Royce, and three for Greta and PB, who will now finish us off…”

“Royce and Solana,” PB said, then looked straight to Imogen. “You’re welcome.”

“A tie! Greta, the deciding vote is yours,” Ecklund continued.

Greta, inscrutable thus far, cut a saccharine smile to PB. “Gosh, you know, I’ve never liked being told what to do…”

For once, PB seemed sincerely shocked. “Imogen will pickusto go against them if you vote for her, Greta! Right, Imogen?!”

“It’s not abadplan,” Imogen said stonily. It wasn’t. She’d trounce Greta.

“And yet I’m guessing she has bigger fish to fry than her partner’s wingman… so I vote Luke and Imogen,” Greta blithely beamed. Knowing her, she still wanted to punish me for befriending Shawn, but she wasgambling big to assume PB’s ties to me would deflect Imogen’s wrath. Despite theMedalsboys’ fresh betrayal, PB and Greta were still likely easier to beat.

“Imogen, it’s been a long time since you were on this side of the line.” Ecklund beckoned us to him. “Do you two want to discuss opponents?”

Imogen’s piercing eyes flayed the cast until she at last landed at PB. “No.”

“Luke, any thoughts to share with the class?” Ecklund inquired as Imogen turned to me, silent,testing…

I shook my head.

Imogen nodded curtly, satisfied, and I prepared for her to slit PB’s throat.