7

Sam was exhausted. When Lyia hit him on the back with her bar, he collapsed and couldn't get back up. He lay on the beaten dirt, aching from the many bruises he'd gotten that day, while Lyia tried to haul him to his feet.

"Sam, you have to get up!" she hissed.

"DO YOU WANT TO DIE?" Ricky asked.

"No," Sam managed to say.

"THEN GET UP!"

Sam's legs shook as he staggered upright.

"Are you okay?" Lyia asked, a worried expression on her pretty face.

"What do you think? You almost killed me!"

"Yeah, maybe I should go easier on you…"

"No, I'm totally good. Keep pounding the living crap out of me, by all means."

"Are you sure?"

He stared at her. "Haven't you ever heard of sarcasm?"

"I was joking with you."

"Oh. I knew that."

"NO YOU DIDN'T."

"Ricky, seriously!"

A foghorn blew somewhere. All the sparring groups stopped what they were doing immediately and stood at attention. Many of them had broken noses and blood spattered all over them. Sam struggled to see what was commanding their respect so completely, but he could find nothing. Suddenly, all the trainees turned to the right and marched out of the courtyard. Only Lyia and Sam were left.

An imposing man in combat fatigues came out and gave them a thorough look-over. Sam resisted the urge to stand straight and throw back his shoulders. The man stroked his pencil mustache, then said one word- "Terminate."

Lyia screamed, "No!"

"I APOLOGIZE, SAM."

"Ricky, wha-"

A wave of electricity shot through him. He couldn't even speak, the pain was too much. Lyia fell into him, and they both crumpled.

:::::

"Sam, you have to wake up."

Someone was shaking his shoulder. He groaned, "Five more minutes."

"Now, Sam."

He looked up to see Lyia. "What…"

"We have to go, Sam."

"I don't… wha'?"

"I thought you were smarter than this!" Lyia huffed. She began loosening the straps around his wrists that held him to the metal surface.

“Lyia, what’s going on?” Sam sat up and shook off the dizziness. She had a fresh cut on her cheekbone, and her eyes were wild. "How'd you get out?"

“C’mon, Sam. We’ve. Got. To. Go.”

Soon, they were running along the metallic corridor, trying to keep the sound of their footsteps silent. Ricky hadn’t spoken to Sam, and, quite frankly, Sam didn’t want to talk to him. It. Ricky. The FuhBuhPuhEss that had shocked him earlier. The thought made him ask Lyia, “How long have we been out?”

“Too long,” she replied ominously.

She rounded a corner, then jumped back so fast that she almost knocked Sam down. “Guards,” she whispered.

They waited until the guards had moved on, then ran toward what they’d been guarding.

“A garbage chute?” Sam asked incredulously.

“No,” she replied. “Our ticket to freedom.”

“As garbage?”

She whirled on him. “Do you want to live or not?!”

He nodded.

“Then follow me and shut up.” She ran, lithe and completely silent, towards the chute, then eased the door up. "Sam, get your fat butt over here!" she muttered.

"Alright, I'm coming!" Sam came over and peered down the dark hole. "How far do you think it goes down?"

"No idea, but it's either this or utter annihilation."

Sam pulled back and looked at her incredulously. "Seriously? What the heck did we do?"

Lyia's nose crinkled from the almost-visible stink drifting from the gaping garbage chute. "I don't know. But whatever it was, it was bad."

Sam took a deep breath and stuck his head into the darkness. "Isn't there another way out?"

"Nope," she replied, pushing him in. Sam yelped, and there was a clanging noise as he banged from wall to wall. She cursed and leaped in after him.

Less than a minute later, the guards were already combing the area for the missing fugitives.