Sang is chosen for the Culling, a series of fights to the death that are generally played by men. In fact, Sang is the first woman selected, well, ever. As the games start, and Sang forms bonds with a group of nine men, she comes to realize that the...
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Sang
Volto.
To Maro and Derrick, Volto had been the person that they were supposedly protecting me from. Why, they had no idea. Or not that Maro had been told at least. The name was only part of instruction that my biological father had passed to my brother before he died.
When Derrick had mentioned him, back during the time we were sequestered, it meant nothing to me. After all, at the time I had no idea as to why anyone would be after me.
However, now, it was different. Now, every time I closed my eyes he was all that I could see. I felt the pain, fear, sadness - even though I had no idea why exactly.
Sure, I knew now that I had been locked away, experimented on, and so forth. But my memories remained, blessedly, lost to me now. Owen had been right, I wasn't sure if I would be able to handle them.
I didn't think I was strong enough, at least.
But Volto. He was here. I didn't know the details, but I knew enough.
It was getting harder to breathe, and disorientation made it harder and harder to think. There were other things - things that I needed to ask about. Something important, but I couldn't remember what it was.
"Sang," Kota voice broke through the torrent of my emotions. His gentle hands brushed back the hair from my face as his eyes searched mine. "Sweetheart, are you alright? There's nothing to be afraid of here. You feel warmer..."
"Does she still have a fever?" Victor asked, sounding alarmed. I sensed him moving away from his location near me. "Should I get Dr Green?"
Kota responded to Victor, but I wasn't paying any attention to his words. The fact that I had a fever was irrelevant. I hardly even noticed when Victor slipped from the room.
I knew that they were worried for me - probably infection. But other things were more important. Something was wrong. There were much worse things than a silly infection. More painful than the indescribable agony that radiated from my hand.
