Natalie strode forwards towards the concrete forest. Years of practice meant that she moved without a sound. She’d been taught several ways to walk as a child. You could walk in a way that demanded attention and respect. Or you could walk in a way that was so soft and so unassuming that people would simply not notice you were there. Both were useful at parties. Natalie was walking softly now. Her eyes darted back and forth and her ears were sharp. She paid attention to her sense of touch as well, feeling the ground beneath her feet and the air passing her skin. She would feel them vibrate, feel them shift, if anyone came near. That was the idea anyway but now she wasn’t sure. She’d been on high alert since the battle royale began and yet Hugh Jaman had approached her undetected. It had shaken her and now, as she walked, the only sound she could hear was the rapidly accelerating beating of her heart. She was in no fit state to fight Hugh Jaman, she knew that, but she couldn’t back down. Based on what he had said, Hugh Jaman had at least three tags on him. Now that Cyrus Beem had escaped she couldn’t miss the chance to get more tags. Unless Hugh Jaman had lied about that… Natalie came to a halt in the midst of the concrete trees. She stood there feeling more vulnerable than she had ever felt in years. For all she knew Hugh Jaman was right behind her, completely invisible and completely capable of ending her life then and there. She span and hit out but her fist passed through nothing but empty space. He wasn’t there. Now Natalie really was panicking.

I need to get out of here! She went to run but stopped herself. This was exactly what her father wanted. He wanted Natalie to run away. He wanted Natalie to lose this battle, but not her life. He wanted her spirit to be crushed, so that she would happily marry Gareth Miller Jr and mark the peaceful union of Coca-Cola and Amazon. If Natalie ran she’d be letting him win, and she’d be consigning herself to the fate that she had been resisting so long. She smiled to herself, just a little smile. Hugh Jaman was a terrifying opponent, yes, but he was merely fighting for a job. Natalie’s battle was for something far greater, and she couldn’t let herself be shaken by someone as lowly as this silent mountain man.

“You’re not scared any more.” Hugh Jaman said. Natalie turned to her left, where the voice had come from, and saw him there, within arms reach. He could have reached out and crushed her neck with ease.

“Sorry.” Natalie smiled a little again, “But there are worse fates than fighting you.”

“Oh?” Hugh Jaman raised an eyebrow, “And what would those be.”

“Running away from you.” Hugh Jaman nodded at that answer.

“It seems my attempts to intimidate you may have backfired.” Natalie nodded.

“My apologies.” she cocked her head to one side. “Before we fight, can I ask you something?” Hugh Jaman raised his already heightened eyebrow a little higher.

“You refuse to answer my question but you want me to answer a question of yours?” He had a point.

“You have a point,” Natalie conceded, “Then I will answer your question, Hugh Jaman, and then you can answer mine.” Hugh Jaman said nothing which Natalie took as an affirmative response, “I am here to earn my freedom, Hugh Jaman. I am here to break away from my father, and the life he set out for me. If you are going to stand between me and that freedom then I will remove you by whatever means are necessary.” Hugh Jaman didn’t react to this, not to his question being answered and not to Natalie’s threat. “Well that was my answer, now for my question.” Natalie continued unabated by Hugh Jaman’s continued silence, “Why didn’t you kill me just now, when you had the chance?” More silence from Hugh Jaman. Then…

“It’s a waste of time to talk.” He was scared of her. While he’d put on a show to intimidate Natalie, to try and make her panic and drop her guard, he was still terrified of her, of what she could do. He was so terrified that even then, when she was oblivious to his presence and within reach, when he could have reached out and killed her instantly, he still could not attack.

“You are right.” Natalie nodded, “We’ve already stood around speaking too long… Hugh Jaman, do you have any final words to say before I reach in and pull those tags from your stomach?” Hugh Jaman stiffened, then pulled himself up to his full, imposing height.

“I know what my last words will be,” he was no longer speaking softly, his voiced boomed out as loudly as the electronic tones, “But I will not say them here, Natalie Yamnson. Do you have any final words of your own?” Natalie looked the large man in the eyes.

“I do.” She attacked, “I’m sorry.”

Even when Natalie could see him, Hugh Jaman was a fierce opponent. Their battle raged through the concrete forest, strikes and punches and kicks and swings demolishing the branches and trees of stone that sprouted up from the ground around them. Both of them were purely physical fighters. Hugh Jaman’s overly large muscles bulged and twitched in the way that only muscles attained through heavy doping could. Natalie’s physical capabilities didn’t come from doping, but were the natural outcome of the heavy genetic manipulation that was performed on her when she was less than sixty four cells large. Everything about her, her light skin tone, her blue eye colour, her curly blonde hair, her perfectly symmetrical face, her height and even her figure had all been decided by her father in a doctor’s office. It was strange. Isaac Yamnson decided everything about Natalie, but he couldn’t choose her to be born male. Hugh Jaman managed to get a large hand around Natalie’s throat. He grinned and began to squeeze. Natalie kicked up against his arm and it bent with the impact, snapping with an audible crack. Hugh Jaman bellowed in pain but he did not let go. What was a broken bone when he had more than enough muscle to keep everything in place? He even lifted Natalie off the floor. Natalie brought her legs up and wrapped them around Hugh Jaman’s arm, she then squeezed and twisted. Hugh Jaman bellowed again and this time his grip loosened. Rather than escaping Hugh Jaman, Natalie pressed on. She grabbed onto his arm with her hands and, after unhooking her legs, kicked out with both feet. The soles of her feet connected solidly with Hugh Jaman’s nose, causing it to explode with a crunch somehow more sickening than the noise his arm had made. Another bellow, Natalie dropped to the floor. Hugh Jaman made a wild swing at her with his good arm but she ducked under it and dived at her opponent. She struck out and plunged her fist through Hugh Jaman’s abdomen. Flesh and muscle and organ tissue tore as her hand sank deeper into him, until she reached what she wanted. Her hand burned a little but she grabbed hold of the tag in Hugh Jaman’s stomach. Then she withdrew her arm from her opponent and he collapsed to his knees, his stare glassy and unfocused.

“Y-you…” Hugh Jaman managed to say. “I…” Then he fell backwards and stopped doing anything. Whatever Hugh Jaman’s planned last words were, he never had the chance to say them.

An investigation of Hugh Jaman’s, presumably tailor made, suit jacket revealed that he had not been lying about the number of tags he had. He had chosen not to eat the other two he had acquired so they smelt less and their numbers, twenty five and twenty seven, were still visible. A tone sounded, the third one, and the arena shook as it always did. There were only two hours left. Natalie had seven tags in total, a reasonable share of the seventeen out there but if the other candidates had been more bloodthirsty than she had then there could be another candidate out there with more than her. She couldn’t let that happen. So, her arm still stained a deep red, she set off running. This battle royale could soon be reaching its conclusion, and she intended to be on top when that conclusion came.

Natalie’s thorough investigation of the arena revealed a startlingly high body count. It seemed that many of the candidates this year had been aiming to kill from the start, or perhaps there was just one bloodthirsty candidate out there. She found the body of Millicent Lute lying beneath a bridge. Up on that same bridge was the body of Donald Rugg, with the body of Ulysses Kovar lying a little way away and the head of Ulysses Kovar lying a little further away than that. Beyond there, at the mouth of a stack of large concrete tubes, lay Cyrus Beem. Cyrus Beem had been an employee of Extech, he had been forced to defend his position and employment so that Extech could have an assessment day at all. In a way he’d lost more than any of the others. Natalie felt no remorse for the man.

And it was a little beyond there that she found Norman Pearson. He was standing out on a long extension from a platform, like a mighty thick tree branch of concrete, which stuck out horizontally. He’d been walking away but turned to see Natalie approaching.

His instincts are sharp Natalie assessed, or maybe he’s just paranoid. Norman Pearson stopped and tuned fully to face Natalie. Natalie also stopped.

“How many tags do you have?” She asked. Norman paused for a moment.

“Just the one,” he lied, “I’ve managed to avoid most of the fighting.”

“Liar.” Norman Pearson didn’t react to that. No admission or denial of the lie. “Are you claiming that those bodies back there, by the tubes and by the bridge, had nothing to do with you?” Norman Pearson shrugged, a gesture that seemed to take a great deal of effort and cause him some discomfort. “Norman Pearson, please hand over your tags. No more blood needs to be spilled today. No one else has to get hurt.” At this Norman Pearson laughed.

“You sound just like her.” he shook his head. “You are all clueless. None of you have any damn idea. You all say “let’s not fight” and “I don’t want to hate people” but you just don’t understand do you?” Norman Pearson finally made eye contact with Natalie. His gaze was hollow. “I have to fight. I have to do this. Everything I have ever done was for this. You come and tell me that I don’t have to fight? You may as well tell me to stop existing. And that’s fine, but if you want me to stop existing then you damn well better come over here and do it yourself rather than asking me to do it for you like a coward.” Those eyes, those hollow eyes, were the eyes of a man who was sick.

“Then I am sorry, Norman Pearson.” Natalie began to stride forwards, “I will end this now, for the two of us.” Norman Pearson shifted his weight and raised his arms, ready to fight.