skulls around their neck or waists. Anything rare or difficult to find or kill was displayed like some kind of vanity metric or social status. Bare arms and shoulders were dusted with white ash, and their long wild hair was braided around shiny things.
Some of the women wore tall rings around their necks to prevent vampire bites. Spiked armor, made of scraps of metal, covered their shoulders and arms. As their eyes met mine, they tried to look as fierce as possible.
Was this what humanity would become, if left to its own devices?
The king had warned me once, about the delicate balance that must be preserved, when he’d shown me his cave of bones.
And Damien had said something similar; that the wars were too horrible to be believed. Decades of brutal fighting and killing, nobody safe. Trevor and the other rebels seemed all too willing for the fighting to begin, but those in the compounds weren’t ready, and with this display, I knew the wildings weren’t either. Their feeble armor, homemade weapons and jagged spears would be ineffective against real elite, when they came. They might kill a few, but they’d be no match for King Richard’s whole army of enhanced soldiers.
And even if they somehow did win, then what? The slagpaw would still roam the wilds. Humans would bow down to cult leaders and superstition, trading dignity and reason for brute force, food and safety.
There would always be some man on a homemade throne whose power came from those who were too timid to refuse. Sam wanted me to choose someone weak and battle them for my position, like savages. But if this was all humanity had to offer as an alternative to the compounds, maybe they didn’t deserve their freedom.
I crossed my arms, feeling rage build up in me.
“No,” I said calmly, crossing my arms before any of the others had a chance to speak.
“We’re not doing that.”
25
“Excuse me?” Sam said. A heavy tension filled the air as time seemed to stand still. The others gathered closer together behind me, in defensive positions.
“We’ve passed your stupid tests, and we’re not staying. We only came to meet our friends. We’re not citizens, we’ve given no oath or contract, made no promises. If you want to kick us out, fine. But we won’t risk other lives as callously as you think we should. No life is worth more than another.”
The men around us shuffled uncomfortably, tightening their grips around their homemade weapons.
“Final answer?” Sam asked, coming forward and pointing the tip of his spear towards my neck.
“Final answer,” Trevor said, swatting the spear away and standing to my side.
There was a rattling noise, that started from the back of the crowd and made its way forward. It was soft at first, as people began rubbing their palms together, then grew to a pitter-patter as they snapped their fingers, then a roar as they stomped their feet and clapped metal on metal, pounding their shields or shaking homemade rattles of crushed cans or beads inside glass bottles.
Actual thunder split the air behind us, and a flash of lightning cut through the sky – it was met by a chorus of howls and yells. But this wasn’t a war cry. It was a celebration.
Sam’s face broke into a grin, and he beckoned towards us with wide arms.
“I knew you could do it,” Jacob said, a half smile forming as he helped me off the rock. “To be honest, I almost failed that one myself, and most of the men from Havoc did as well. Steve was furious when they kicked him out.”
“What happened to him?”
“They made camp somewhere else. There are dozens of sites like this, each growing too large by the day, each with its own set of rules.”
“Wait, I don’t get it. What just happened?” Jazmine asked.
“Your friend was exactly right,” Sam said. “No life is more than any other; we’re all equal. That’s the true secret of our maxim.”
“A life for a life,” I nodded, my eyes widening.
“It’s like a trick question,” Camina said.
“Anyone who thinks only the strongest should survive, that humanity is just whatever’s left, they don’t belong here, we’ll never see eye to eye. You passed the ordeal of Soul – no cruelty, only compassion.”
“You know what humanity is really? It’s a healed femur bone. It’s taking care of a companion, even when your own life is at risk. Every other animal cares more about self-preservation. A mother might fight for her own children, sure. But