Chain Gang All Stars

Two more, was the first thing she thought upon waking. At least two more people she’d have to kill. Two more times she’d have to defend her life on the BattleGround.

Thurwar was a collection of numbers and statistics. Numbers and statistics that she, a Grand Colossal, defined and defied. A great part of her lethality was her ability to understand them.

In the beginning, when she was still more civilian than Link, she’d relish the moments when she could almost forget her situation. Those seconds in the morning when, if the HMCs weren’t floating above her to start her day, she could enjoy a sweet silence and pretend that her life was something other than a brutal entertainment.

She looked at Staxxx, who clenched her jaw in her sleep, and kissed her on the forehead once. The tense muscles on the sides of Staxxx’s face settled. Then she rolled out of the cot onto the ground and dropped into the first fifty push-ups of her day. Each press of the earth was a kind of self-inventory. She observed any resistance in her elbows, the hold of her shoulders. She kept her core tight through each push and maintained a gradual energy against gravity through the drop. Her chest pressed nylon each time. She was still tired, but her body was what she needed it to be. She stretched, arched her back up, then pushed her core to the ground, cat, camel, several times to warm and loosen her spine.

She picked Hass Omaha up from the ground and did her squats. Hass had a shaft that was three and a half feet long, an alloy blend that kept it light enough. His head, ahistorical though it might have been, was shaped like any hammerhead you’d find at a LifeDepot™ store, except it was eight times the size. Blunted hard with an iron face and sharpened out into a gold-coated spike. She paid additional Blood Points every day to keep her primary weapon with her on the road; most Links who could did the same.

In total, Thurwar had amassed enough BP that, as far as people completely deprived of basic freedom went, she lived well. She ate two incredible meals a day, the first of which would be dropped to her in about—she looked at the WaYTime™ piece that holographically floated 7:08 a.m. in the air—twenty-two minutes. No surprise. She woke up at basically the same time every day. She tried not to feel annoyed with herself for being a few minutes off her regular schedule. She held Hass with her arms out, held the base of his neck with her dominant hand, the end of his shaft with her left.

She continued her squats. Again, a collection of data. One that grew grimmer and grimmer. A year ago, she could do her fifty hammer squats and her left knee would only begin to ache dully as she’d lowered through her fortieth. Her legs, in her life before and after prison and the Circuit, were her saving grace. You swung a hammer with your legs and back. You ran toward demons, sprinting. That was how you made it to Grand Colossal. But now, from the very first squat, she felt some pain. A spark of ache that grew and then relaxed a bit as she warmed up, then grew again until it hummed consistently. But she continued. As far as any of the millions tuned into the stream could tell, she felt no pain at all.

She would stretch more thoroughly, then take a quick shower. She would smile her best smile when Staxxx woke up at around seven-thirty. She’d try to maintain everything as it was even though Staxxx had killed Sunset, even though they’d forced a new way of life on the Chain, even though she’d learned about a devastating rule change coming in season 33 from the woman in Vroom Vroom.

She stepped into the basin. Staxxx’s eyes fluttered, then she moved her arms over frantically, trying to find Thurwar. “There you are,” she said, and she squeezed the REMington™ Sleep Cannon™ memory foam pillow that had cradled Thurwar’s head through the night. She opened her eyes. “Oh, you thought I was looking for you?” Staxxx throttled the pillow still more, wrapping it up with her arms and legs in the same way she’d wrapped Pincer Goreten when she’d finished him off with four quick knife stabs through his neck and eye. Pincer’s X was on Staxxx’s left eyelid.

“You’re great,” Staxxx said. “But I just love how this feels.”

Thurwar laughed despite it all. It was hard to imagine someone better or worse suited for this life than Staxxx. Besides her obvious ability to dismantle humans, she was funny and always thinking. She knew that if a particularly good sound bite or moment from the March really caught on with viewers, the Link behind it would be granted a meeting with the company they’d highlighted and that would likely lead to an offer of sponsorship. Sponsorship meant more and sometimes exclusive access to things that had to be bought with BP. And often at a discount, which meant you could save the points. More BP meant more life. Staxxx understood the game. Almost certainly REMington™ would be calling her when they made it to their next Hub City.

“Stupid,” Thurwar said.

She turned the water on so it would come from the tall showerhead. She used a washcloth that was fresh and dry and took the opportunity to continue her daily assessment. She pressed against her shoulders, her biceps and triceps, the sides and back of her neck, searching for any undocumented pain. She continued her light stretches. She moved slowly, avoiding the HMCs that followed her movements like shadows.

“Fuck bitches, get money,” Staxxx said. “Also, I love you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Thurwar said, and again she was jarred by how easily Staxxx could bring her out of her head and into the world.

Staxxx rolled over to her pack. She tied her hair using a thick loc and then sheathed it with a shower cap that had been made with her in mind. She brushed her teeth and rinsed with bottled water. When Sun was around, he’d often traded tents with Thurwar or Staxxx, leaving the Queen’s Tent to them, so it wasn’t particularly novel to have so much of everything now, though there was a nagging strangeness in its all being Thurwar’s.

“Don’t forget those molars, kids,” Staxxx said.

Staxxx played the game as if it were a natural and expected part of her life. She addressed the audience directly, made jokes that only made sense if you were the subject of a never-ending show, charmed her way into popularity, which garnered sponsorship, which ultimately made her a more lethal Link.

And then the two HMCs zipped away. They were alone, no cameras in sight. It had been a long time since Thurwar had felt what it was to be unseen on the Circuit. Her first thought: happiness at being alone with Staxxx, without the eyes of the world watching them. An opportunity to tell Staxxx what she’d learned from the woman in Vroom Vroom. This was a moment she could use. The truth sat on her lips, but she knew that once she spoke it, they would never be the same again. She swallowed the words, and as she did, it occurred to her that something significant had to be happening outside the tent, significant enough to pull the HMCs from her, naked as she was, and Staxxx, who was pulling on her robe already, clearly having come to the same realization a moment faster.

“Shit,” Staxxx said, and she ran for LoveGuile. And the moment, Thurwar’s chance to tell Staxxx, flew away.

Thurwar jumped from the basin, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around her body. She rushed after Staxxx. Outside the tent, grass hugged her wet soles and collected against her skin as she ran, hammer in hand.

Rico Muerte was standing near the smallest tent, two hands on his six-iron. Sai Eye Aye was sitting a few paces in front of him on one of the Camp stumps. In one hand Sai held Knockberri and in the other, Tusk. Knockberri was a hard club made of bone with a round stone at its head, and Tusk was a thinner piece of wood fashioned with a rubber grip. Sai had killgraded Tusk several weeks earlier so that now it had jagged nails poking out of its top like sharp teeth.

“I don’t give a fuck-all ’bout none of that shit,” Muerte said.

He was standing with his chest out, his club in his hands, his eyes hot and darting to the eyes staring at him and then settling back on Sai.

“Hi, everyone, what seems to be the problem?” Staxxx broke in. Thurwar watched closely. Already there was a fight. Of course. It was foolish to think that they could curb all human instinct and history by asking everyone to chill.

“Sai needs to know I’m not for the play play.”

Staxxx looked at Rico. She spoke as if it were the two of them alone in a room, though the rest of the Chain had gathered around.

“So why don’t you tell me what the problem is, and we’ll figure it out.”

“They know what it is. I—”

“Because you aren’t going to fight.” Thurwar took a small step closer because she knew what Staxxx would say next. “Just the thought of anybody here going against what we established so clearly only yesterday. It’s kind of a slap in the face. Ya know?” Staxxx slowly rotated LoveGuile so its blade pointed briefly in every direction. She kept it rotating, moving along a compass’s path above their heads in the moist morning air.

“I got no problems with you and LT, but I’m not gonna let anybody herb me like I’m some kid. All due respect, but on my mama, that’s not gonna happen.”

As if suddenly boiling over, Sai stood up, their energy shifting darkly.

“We don’t need to get the chitchatting. I’ll take the points for your head, tiger.” Sai spoke directly, almost bored, but with the bloodlust of a soon-to-be Reaper. It was an apt title for anyone who’d lasted that long in the games. The title before it was Cusp, and it was true that at that moment, you were on the cusp of becoming a different kind of killer. On the cusp of desiring it, of seeing death as a tool that might be used anytime, anyplace. “I like what y’all are trying to do, but if he wants me to kill ’im, Imma kill ’im,” Sai said.

Randy Mac peeked out of his tent. Thurwar noted his taking in Staxxx’s robed body. Farther beyond Sai and Rico, Ice Ice was lying on the ground, his pack a pillow. Walter Bad Water was near the community shower, his pinkish skin slick with wet.

“I’m not scared of shit,” Muerte said.

“The next thing anybody says will be a clear explanation.” LoveGuile stopped spinning. Staxxx dropped it so its blade poked into the earth between Rico and Sai.

Thurwar watched the three of them, and she knew that the one thing they all wanted was not to fight. As a Link, regardless of rank, the opportunity cost of a fight was huge. Even if you won, you’d almost certainly end up injured, and that meant a far greater chance of not surviving your next BattleGround match. It was much better to kill quickly than to fight. And yet, from Rico seeped a plague that ruined the lives of men and all they touched: He needed to be seen as strong, menacing, powerful. He struggled against it constantly.

“I was minding my own fucking business,” Rico began, and gripped his six-iron tightly, “talking ’bout how I’m ’bout done being Peanut now and I’ll probably never eat a peanut butter and jelly again.”

“Okay,” Staxxx said.

“So then even though I’m minding my own fucking business talking to Ice, Sai wants to chime in.” Rico summoned an intense frown before mimicking Sai’s low voice. “ ‘Better worry more about what you hold than what you eat,’ so I told them, ‘I’m not fucking talking to you,’ and they go, ‘You won’t be talking to anybody if you don’t check yourself,’ like really pressing me. I’m not the one!” Rico said; he was exciting himself. He stabbed down into the grass with his club. Staxxx looked at the tight, violent motion, then into Rico’s eyes. He stopped doing it.

“On God that’s what happened, Ice saw!” Rico said.

Ice Ice the Elephant was reading a book; reading was a habit he’d recently picked up from Sai Eye Aye. Surely, Rico understood Ice Ice and Sai Eye had become good friends. They were at about the same tier and had even fought in doubles matches together. Maybe on some level Rico was calling out the fact that he felt like no one was on his team? Thurwar considered this and watched.

Staxxx looked over at Ice, who said, “Yup, basically.” A confirmation demonstrating very little interest in the whole affair.

“Anything you want to add, Sai?” Staxxx asked.

“No. That’s exactly what happened,” Sai Eye Aye said.

“Well, look at that, they’re agreeing already,” Mac laughed from near his tent.

“You shut up.” Staxxx whipped her head at him for a moment.

“Yes, ma’am,” Randy Mac said.

“So what you’re saying is—” Staxxx started.

“What I’m saying is I’m not no bitch. I’m a Rook but everybody starts somewhere. I can say I don’t wanna eat no damn peanut butter and jelly for the rest of my life and I don’t give a fuck what anybody wants to say about it,” Rico spat out.

Gunny Puddles had emerged from wherever he’d been and now stood only an arm’s length from Thurwar. He shot a toothy smile her way and took a few steps toward the rest of the group.

As it was in civilian life, the loud, boisterous stuff was usually less of a concern. But the quiet ones were to be watched precisely.

“It’s simple,” Staxxx announced.

“Yeah, what’s simple is I ain’t soft and I’ll prove it if I have to. Believe me.”

“What I was going to say,” Staxxx continued, “is that you’re probably about tired of being the young blood, not having a real primary and all.”

“Kid doesn’t even have a real primary,” Sai echoed.

“Four motherfuckers thought my shit was primary enough to Low out to it,” Rico said, sticking his chest out farther.

Staxxx went on as if she had not heard either Sai or Rico. “And it rubbed you the wrong way to have someone rub that fact in your face.”

“I ain’t no bitch.”

“And I don’t think anybody is trying to dispute that. This feels like a misunderstanding.” Staxxx pointed her scythe at Sai Eye Aye. This was a thing you only did when threatening another Link. Pointing your primary at another meant you were ready and willing to kill them. As it was, under their new rules, the gesture was benign, and yet the echo of its old meaning was felt.

“Sai, do you think our friend Rico here is, as he says, a bitch?”

Sai suddenly seemed amused by the theater they had made.

“Anybody that come in and out that BattleGround is tougher than most. Do it a few times and, well, that’s something.”

Staxxx beamed. Thurwar frowned. She did the math. None of this—the quick explosion, the easy resolution—seemed to add up.

“Well, that’s that,” Staxxx said. “Everybody cool?”

The group watched Rico.

“I wasn’t pressed in the first place. I was just letting it be known once and for all.” Staxxx put a hand on Rico’s shoulder. He regarded it and softened. “Yeah, I’m chillin’.”

“And what about you?” Staxxx asked.

“Ice,” said Sai, unleashing Ice Ice’s obvious but catchy catchphrase.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

The HMCs focused on Sai and Rico to see if the conflict would reignite. Thurwar took the chance to speak quickly to Staxxx as she walked past her back to the tent.

“When?” is all she asked. She kept her face straight, didn’t even let her eyes move. Almost immediately one of the HMCs began to pull toward her.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Staxxx said, and she disappeared into the tent. When the HMC reasserted a position near Thurwar’s temple, she was wearing a plastered smile, watching the resolution settle through her Chain.

This is day one of the new way, Thurwar thought. The game as it was had rewarded her so consistently that such a dramatic shift away from the violence that she knew worried her. You’re scared, she thought in a clear, direct way that would have been voiced aloud were she not always being watched, had she not needed some things to be for her and only her. You’re scared of what’s new. You’re scared of hidden intentions. You’re scared of surprises. Thurwar scanned through her consciousness, breathed slowly, let the feelings of her body make her thoughts clear. You’re scared and you hate that maybe something was planned without you, again. That Staxxx planned a fake fight without you.

The heat in her chest pulled inward. Thurwar played out the scene between Rico and Sai again, because a scene was obviously what it was. To erupt and settle so quickly. That wasn’t how these things worked. Staxxx had to have orchestrated the charade, an attempt to reinforce the idea of the Chain as family. But she’d done it so obviously, so sloppily. That was unlike her.

The morning after they’d announced it. How convenient was it that suddenly two well-enough-liked Links would suddenly have beef that could easily have left either dead? And how convenient was it that Staxxx should be able to settle the dispute in moments? They had to have planned it. But when? Thurwar thought through their last Hub City stay, tried to piece together Staxxx’s itinerary.

You’re wondering why she didn’t trust you to help, Thurwar thought. You don’t like that she only let you in on part of the plan.

Also, maybe you’re paranoid.

Maybe you’re paranoid because you’re also keeping a secret.

Maybe it was real.

Maybe it’s best to imagine it was real.

She had two more weeks.

Two more fights.

She tried to focus on the coming matches and not what Staxxx had or had not planned. Thinking of that place, those killing grounds, brought her an explosive, messy kind of calm.

From the very first time Thurwar had stepped on the BattleGround she had felt something erupt in her. Like a curse. Something that not only made her fight, despite how unworthy of life she felt, but made her prepare meticulously and obsessively. She’d wanted to be the best.

She blinked and looked up at the sky. She wiped her eyes. A flock of drones flew above the tree line and began to drop toward them. Two more fights, the first a doubles match with Staxxx, after which Staxxx would become a Colossal. Season 32 would end. And once season 33 began, the rules would change.

You’re afraid of Staxxx keeping secrets from you because you’re keeping a secret from her.

And that secret was that, once the new season began, it would no longer be allowed for two Colossal-ranked Links to be on the same Chain. Once season 33 began, Thurwar would be forced to fight the person she loved, the woman called thee Hurricane Staxxx, on her Freeing day.

Thurwar watched the drones descend, and her mouth began to water.