Free After the Fear (Young Adult Dystopian) by Rosanne Rivers Page A

to your families,’ Dylan says as though it’s oh-so-simple.
    ‘Okay.’ Alixis is more than a little out of breath. ‘But everyone outside of Alpha will hate me. Is there protection for that?’
    There’s a pause.
    ‘You might be surprised,’ Dylan says, ‘but yes, Herd officers accompany you everywhere, and when you’re in the Stadium you’ve only the contestants to worry about.’
    ‘And there’s twenty-six cities right? That’s twenty-six fights,’ Alixis says.
    ‘Twenty-five fights. There’s no Stadium in Zulu,’ Dylan corrects.
    Alixis continues to ask the questions I’m desperate to know the answers to. ‘So this is the only training camp then? And who decides when we’re ready to start?’
    ‘The one and only camp, aye. As for who decides, well that would be your trainer.’ This, Dylan says with a grin, and his eyes even flicker to me as he speaks. I look straight ahead, hoping he’ll think my cheeks are red from the running.
    ‘So, how come you aren’t still touring? Why are—you putting—it off—training us?’ Alixis pants.
    Dylan loses his grin and looks out into the distance, his answer nearly getting lost behind us.
    ‘I’ve finished my tour. I’ve paid back my Debt.’
    To that, neither Alixis nor I have a reply, so we keep running. Around and around in futile circles, wearing ourselves out, getting nowhere.
    ***
    AT LEAST ALIXIS throws up first. I’m not sure how many laps we’ve done, but my T-shirt is soaked with sweat and I keep wiping more away from my eyes. Well, if I was worried about how I looked earlier I can now rest assured knowing I resemble a frizzy-haired lobster having some kind of heart attack. My mouth, throat and lungs all burn from gasping.
    ‘Getting tired yet?’ Dylan startles me by calling across the space which Alixis’ absence has left. I risk a glimpse over.
    ‘Are you?’ I ask. Our heavy breaths lap over each other’s, providing a steady rhythm to our steps.
    The side of his open mouth curls just a fraction and he shakes his head.
    ‘Me neither,’ I say. Nothing could be further from the truth, but there’s a bud of defiance growing within me. Straight away, he picks up the pace. My legs scream in protest, and I push them harder to match him. That smug look on his face tells me he’s in his element.
    ‘You like running then?’ I ask casually, as if this is so easy. As if my whole body isn’t begging for me to stop.
    ‘It’s grand.’
    That lilt in his voice reaches over the space and grips my heart; it’s so—perfect.
    ‘Actually, it’s my favourite part of being a Demonstrator,’ he says. That’s when I see it. A flash before he speeds ahead. His blue eyes narrow in a tiny smile and, in that second, I know he’s thinking about our kiss.
    Those words are an exact echo of what he said at Coral’s party. The joke I quoted back to him.
    He’s surging forwards. I can’t match him and he knows it. My legs tumble to a stop and laughter rolls from me.
    He remembers.
    Best of all, he wants me to remember. My energy floods back and I want to whoop and punch the air and twirl about. Then I remember where I am, that my life is basically over, that Dad is on his own in city Juliet, and that I’m a murderer. Instead, I finish the lap, jog over to where Alixis lies and help her up.
    ‘You feeling okay?’ I ask.
    ‘Yep,’ she says, brushing the grass from her clothes before giving me a strange look. ‘Are you?’
    A giggle escapes. I blame the high from exercise for behaving like a little girl.
    ‘Yeah. Turns out, I really like running.’
    ***
    ‘PERSISTENCE AND RESISTENCE!’ Dylan repeats over and over again as we kill ourselves at fitness drills. ‘Those two things will save your life!’
    My high has quickly evaporated and every inch of my body aches. It’s as though there’s a great big hand gripping every muscle, squeezing them until I can’t move. I cradle my stomach, which is as tight as a drawstring bag.
    ‘We get a gun,