Page 30 of The Bonding Games: Part 2

Why did that look like he knows something we don’t . . . ?

Ez . . . Ezla? I attempt to push through the bond, the alarm bells ringing in my head too pressing not to despite the risk. Worry coats my words even in my head.

Without looking at me, she replies, Yes, thank you, Puppet. I have noticed 22’s group. Simply do as we have planned. We have practiced many times—you cannot get it wrong.

Gulping audibly, I move my attention back to the other groups, belly all tingly despite everything at her calling me Puppet again. This time, my eyes linger on Iggy from Evot Training School 246, whose Bonded group is down to three members now, and he gives me a head nod when he feels my gaze.

I return it with a hesitant smile.

I like Iggy, especially after Tiger told me he spared his life in Game 3, and I can only hope he stays safe in this Game and the next two as well.

Other than his and Aider’s group, there’s also Dex, Jodine, and their Exot stood nearby, the sixteen-year-old boy scowling furiously at anything and everything while Jodine eyes him anxiously, her complexion visibly pale behind her visor from here. I’m pretty sure it’s worry for him rather than any fear of him, because I’ve noticed despite how little I really pay attention to other Bonded groups these days with all of it focused on my own, namely Ezla, unless we’re in a Game, that they’ve become a little family just like us, but with different dynamics. I’m almost certain now that Jodine and Dex are together, and they both treat Player 59 as they would a younger sibling. I haven’t seen enough to know how he feels about that, but he doesn’t seem to want to kill them anymore like he did in The Bondings, so that’s a good sign.

Lastly, I find two lone figures, both glowing green, and two pairs, one of which only consists of Evots, while the other holds the Player numbers 1 and 60.

My chest pinches, the knowledge that the latter two out of all of them are the only ones that even have a chance of escaping the Games this year sinking into me heavily. Without an Exot, the rest are all Unbonded now, and I can’t even imagine how they must be feeling after losing their Bonds as well as being fully aware it’s highly unlikely they’ll survive TBG without them. And if they survive and compete in next year’s Bonding Games as required, they’ll have to bond again, replacing people they potentially grew extremely close to like I have to my Bonded group during this event.

The operation definitely brings Evots and Exots together like it’s supposed to . . . but at what cost?

12

COOPER

Avri jet forming around me in a rush of luminous deep green pixels, my hands wrap around the control sticks as they manifest. As we’ve been practicing, I rise at the very back of the V shape created by Ezla and my brothers. She’s leading us, of course, taking up the point of that V, while Alby’s on her left, and Scotty’s on her right. Behind him is Tate, and the last spot is taken up by Tiger, leaving me directly behind our Bonded further back.

For this Game and The Maze, it’s a given that Players will be communicating through our bonds, even if no one else has yet figured out how to do it in the way we do, though I wouldn’t be too sure about that, and so HC’s mind is open and ready for my words when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye already. Player 42 coming up.

Fuck, is he suicidal? What on earth is he doing coming straight for us? And, not to be arrogant, just self-aware with the motherfucking Champion at our helm, the most dangerous Bonded group, too.

Get rid of him, Ezla sends back blandly, finding the fast-approaching man so uninteresting that she doesn’t even spare a glance for him.

I hesitate along with my brothers as we slow down. If Player 42 was actually attempting to kill us, I wouldn’t—no matter how much I hate violence, I’m not about to let anyone harm my woman or my new brothers. But he isn’t. He’s not even firing. And I realise my initial thought might not be too far from the truth at all.

Love . . . Scotty begins uncertainly, but Tate, the only one of us who didn’t falter, is already moving.

Yanking his jet around with a purred, Yes, Havoc, he fires a missile straight at the approaching Evot without preamble. And the man, whose name I don’t even know, is close enough to see now as that brilliant streak of green lights up the night, its glow highlighting the glossiness of his eyes as he charges right for his death, meeting it head-on.

The boom shakes the city as blood and emerald Avri pixels explode everywhere.

Alby’s horrified cry meets my ears, but I can only stare at the space Player 42 once was as his remains drop down to the concrete below.

“Player 42: Eliminated.”

He just . . . he just killed herself. Doesn’t matter if it was Tate’s finger on the trigger, he came right at us on purpose . . . because he knew he’d never make it to Final Battles. Knew that if he did and somehow survived the Games, he’d be right back here again next year, having to do this all over again.

Fuck . . . Jesus fuck. What has our world come to?

***

Ezla’s pissed at us.

All of us but Tate, anyway.

I know we all would have obeyed her; I’ll give my Bonded almost anything she wants. But none of us, again with the exception of Tate, are like her—we can’t kill whoever we want whenever we want and not feel guilty about it. I don’t think she understands that, or she does and it doesn’t make sense to her, because destructive wrath and jealousy have been drenching the bond since, and she can’t even keep it from us when we need to have it open for communication.

She’s truly fucking possessive, and I admittedly do love that, but I think we need to work on her reactions to another human in our vicinity, because it really wouldn’t be ideal to kill every one we come across on her orders. I mean, besides the fact that we don’t bloody see anyone but her in the first place, her existence consuming me and my brothers completely, I don’t think a single one of us is even attracted to men, so I’m not sure what the fuck she’s thinking. I can give her some leniency as I do understand she’s not used to this and the new feelings that I know are building in her, even if those emotions are the only bloody ones she does consistently conceal. However, that does not mean she should be straying from the plan to leave us behind while she spins her Avri jet around in rapid circles and fires bullets nonstop like a madwoman.

“Go on, Havoc, baby!” Tate calls out in a groan while I curse him and the rest of the world furiously, shoving down the bond, Vengeance, get your ass back here!