Chain Gang All Stars

The air was hot with day and the breath of thousands screaming. The Links stepped onto the pavement and then onto the small lawn that sat just before the stretch of road spanning the school’s front, presumably where buses pulled up every day to unload and pick up the community’s most precious cargo.

The Links walked in the space cleared by men in uniform. Apparently, the producers and GameMasters, those invisible orchestrators of their lives, had not quite anticipated that the crowds in Old Taperville would be so motivated. The protestors far outnumbered the fans, the black they wore distinguishing them from the people who were just there to be entertained. But still, in the middle of it, if you didn’t know what was what, it would’ve been hard to tell the people who were there because they wanted to see Staxxx from the people who were there because they wanted to see her free.

Hamara

Hamara

Hamara

Thurwar looked back at Staxxx, who was smiling and nodding her head, her hands raised up. They’d worked on strength, adding extra push-ups to their daily regimen the last several weeks, and it showed in the lines of her triceps.

Thurwar was glad to be walking. The way they were forced to sit in the van made the pain in her knee scream more quickly than any of the Marching they’d done through the week. She avoided stretching her leg or otherwise tending to it in front of anyone. Thurwar’s pain was her own. Sometimes they’d be stuck in the van for hours, but no matter how long, Thurwar would carefully give herself no more than one leg movement per hour. She considered the possibility that Staxxx knew about her knee and decided that she was probably just being paranoid. She wondered too if it was paranoia that had kept her from telling Staxxx about her knee in the first place. As if on some level she’d always known, somewhere in her being, what was coming. Whenever the pain in her knee became unbearable, she’d dive deep into herself and the silence and remind herself that she’d faced worse when she was inside. The specter of the pain of Influencing was a touchpoint in her mind of how bad things could be. She suppressed the memory to survive but she would always have the reference. As long as she was not being shot with the Influencer Rods, things could always be worse.

STACKER

It was the first time since her fight with Melancholia Bishop that a crowd was so decidedly favoring someone who wasn’t her. Thurwar smiled at the thought and slowed a bit so she was shoulder to shoulder with Staxxx and rubbed into her side, her shoulder poking into Staxxx’s exposed armpit. The crowd, seeing this, screamed anew. A few screamed “LT.” It had been months since she’d tried to earn the esteem of any crowd, and yet now she felt a wanting that was hard to locate amid the raw intensity of so many people screaming for the person she loved.

They made it to tall glass doors. Staxxx put her hands down.

“How’s it feel to be home?” Thurwar asked.

“It feels like a wild field of energy flooding everywhere.”

“A very Staxxx answer,” Thurwar said. And there was energy, thick in the air, on their skin.

The building was all hard tile, tan patterns on the floor. Inside. Inside was a thing to hold. They were underneath the sky so much she noticed every time a ceiling was above her head. This building smelled of settled dust and the acidic sharpness of cleaning products. It was pleasantly cooler in the space than it had been outside and seemed to get cooler the farther they walked into the building.

Two soldier-police held open the large wooden doors at the end of the hall, and they entered a room simmering with chatter that quieted as they walked in, then exploded into the flashing lights of cameras.

Thurwar was grateful. For all she’d suffered, and all the suffering she’d caused, she’d never had to return to her hometown as a Link, never had to feel whatever the complicated stew of feelings was that had drawn a large smile all over Staxxx’s face.

In front of them, as they approached a stage with a long table, Rico Muerte bumped fists with the reporters and officials, and the locals who had been able to get tickets to the presser.

“We out here!” Muerte said.

Sai raised their hands up in the air for a few moments before lowering them as they walked down the aisles. Thurwar took in the sight of grown people stuffed into the small auditorium seats. Staxxx blew kisses at the flashing cameras.

Thurwar chose not to look down on the celebratory nature of moments like this. Everything you did in Chain-Gang could be the last thing you did. So each time you made it back to a press conference, it was essential to be remembered. It was a time to remind them, a calling out to the world, I’m still here.

“Damn straight!” Gunny Puddles said loudly, screaming up at the high ceiling.

“I love you,” Staxxx yelled out to the room.

Some of the A-Hamm Links were already getting seated and Thurwar had just reached the stage steps herself. There were soldier-police at every entrance and four of them stood at either side of the stage.

She stepped up. The house lights flashed awake. She went to the table and found the seat with the card that read Loretta Thurwar. It was to the right of the center seat, where Staxxx had just situated herself. As she sat down she felt her hands release from each other. The green was a relief. Under the table, behind the tan tablecloth, she rubbed her sore knee so no one could see. She massaged her patella gently, then worked her way to the meniscus, the most problematic area. With her other hand she took a drink of water. Gunny Puddles sat to her right and she could feel his eyes on her.

“Nice crowd for your lady,” Gunny said.

“Yeah,” Thurwar replied between gulps. She stopped rubbing her knee. A set of larger cameras in the back of the room caught her attention. And then the press conference began.

—

“Hi, Staxxx, Kyle Robertson, H2 Sports. Obviously, it must be a wild feeling to see the crowd gathered here for you. What’s it like for you right now?”

“Home is an electric field. I feel all of it. I saw some old friends outside and I’m grateful. This building is where I first became an athlete.”

Pull back for wide shot of entire table. Back in close to Staxxx and LT.

“I have a long history here. It’s where I became a criminal, as you all know.”^[*]

Zoom in on big smile. Staxxx in frame pointing to…pointing to X on her wrist. Get the X.

“Quick follow-up, does that mean you’re especially motivated for this week’s deathmatch? Considering the criminal history of one of your opponents.”

Reframe to capture her laughing mouth. Stay as laugh settles, dies completely.

“You’re asking if I want to kill a rapist? I do not. I’m about love. It’s y’all that are about killing.”

Pull back, upper body and the Xs.

“I’ve Low Freed rapists before. Didn’t do anything for me. Didn’t save me at all. But you already know that too. If it was that easy, this world would be a different place.”

“Meghan Melendez, Channel Plex, Thurwar.”

Pull and press to Thurwar.

“How are you feeling without your running mate Sunset Harkless, and how do you feel about the fact that he was killed by your very own Hurricane Staxxx and she refuses to say why?”

Tighten on Thurwar. Tighten further. Pause as she looks at Staxxx. Hold. Hold. Pull back. Frame Staxxx’s fading smile and glance back at Thurwar.

“First of all, Staxxx is her own person.”

“I just meant—”

“We discussed it as a Chain and we won’t be discussing it further.”

“Do you have any words for those who watched you and Sunset over the years, or maybe Sunset’s family?”

Pull back for shot of entire table looking at Thurwar. Hold.

“Sunset was the best friend I had. He was killed by a lot of things. He was offered a hole instead of help. So this was the last of many deaths for him. That’s all I’ll say about that. I have a lot of other things to think about in the next few weeks.”

“Vihaan Patel, Old Taperville Streamlite. So what are you thinking about?”

Pan through right side of table before refocusing on Thurwar’s face. Keep there. Thurwar, center frame.

“If you had three days before two incredible warriors tried to kill you and this beautiful woman beside me, what would you be thinking about?”

“Fair enough.”

“Efa Teland, Crosshair Capital. This is the last fight together for the two of you. You have more doubles wins than any team in the history of Chain-Gang. How are you feeling leading up to this fight? How do you like your chances?”

Crop to Gunny Puddles, Thurwar, Staxxx, and Randy Mac. Slowly come in to just Staxxx and Thurwar.

“You come this far, it’s not about chance anymore, honey. A Hurricane doesn’t meet the Mother of Blood by accident.”

“We’ve prepared and we’ll be ready.”

“And, Staxxx, after this fight you’ll also make it to Colossal. Are you excited about that?”

Thurwar’s face. Press in on her strained look. Reverse focal length back, reframing to both women.

“I’m Colossal already. After this Sunday, you’ll all agree with what’s been true for a long time now. Just because the truth is too bright for you to see”—Hard close-up on Staxxx’s face—“doesn’t mean it wasn’t there the whole time.”

“So you’re feeling good about it?”

“I feel like a peregrine falcon mid-dive.”

Staxxx’s face: The frame. The whole of it. Stay there. Sit there. Let them see her. The tattoos creeping up jawline. Eyes staring, sharp. Press even tighter. Her eyes. Sharp resolution. Stay. Stay.

“You know what that’s like? No, you couldn’t ever.”

Pull back. Her head, the smile returned there. Eyes softened.

“So yeah. I feel good. We’ll be ready. We happen to be the best to have ever done these games. And that has nothing to do with chance.”

“Thurwar, how does that sound to you?”

“I think she said it all.”

“Gretchen Ebb, Ox News, and this is for Thurwar, or really anyone. This past week we’ve watched as you’ve fundamentally changed the Chain by unilaterally dictating that no A-Hamm Link can feed for Blood Points on another A-Hamm Link, or otherwise use force to deter potential future aggression. Why now? And do you think there’s potential for some kind of blowback? Like maybe A-Hamm won’t have as much of an edge on the BattleGrounds now that it’s family time on the Circuit?”

Slide across the face of each Link. Linger on Gunny’s grin. Sai Eye’s raised eyebrows. Staxxx’s frown, disappeared up into a smile. Settle tightly on Thurwar’s straight face.

“Why now? Because it had to be now. I’m leaving soon, and this is the way it should be.”

“But—”

“And understand that when you say ‘feed for Blood Points,’ you’re talking about the underhanded shit that’s gone on for too long on Chains all over the Circuit. You’re talking about Links getting stabbed in the back. That’s over for us and it’s a good thing. The world deserved to see Helicopter Quinn go out fighting. So many great Links never make it to the BattleGround for their biggest fights because other, weaker Links do something cowardly on the Circuit. But to answer your question, I did it because it was right. And no, I am not worried about how it will affect us on the grounds.”

“It’s bullshit but that’s all right.”

Whip to Gunny Puddles. Pull back to include both.

“I know what I am and what everybody at this table is. We ain’t no saints or whatever the people hollering outside think we is. I’m here to eat and get mine and that’s it. But for now Her Majesty makes the rules.”

“So.” Find a standing Gretchen Ebb in the crowd, second row, far right, pale green blazer. “Is it that you were afraid for yourself and the other Links? Is that why you’ve forced a new way of life on the Chain? Or is it because of some idea of civility? It seems it can’t be both to me.”

“Of course it can be both. But I don’t have to be afraid for myself. I’m freed very soon.”

Back to Staxxx, leaning forward. Almost standing up. Then to her leaning back in her chair, laughing a big laugh. Scale aperture up, blur everything behind her. Make her a painting in this moment. Lock focus on eyes. Brown. Glowing.

“Come join us in A-Hamm, Gretchen, and see how you feel about it.”

Slowly flatten out picture and pull back.

“To be fair, I’m not a criminal accused of—”

“So then leave it to the criminals to sort out themselves.”

Thurwar’s face, straight, even.

“Gina Preian, Megavolt Streams 3. Thurwar, as your illustrious career as a Link begins to wind down, what are you most proud of, looking back? And what do you think the families of your victims will think about your possible freeing?”

Thurwar appears confused. Her eyes, shine on them. See the light they reflect.

“There are a bunch of other people on this Chain who have been working very hard prepping for this weekend. Do you want to ask any of them about what they think?” Thurwar sits back, drinks a gulp of water.

“Yeah,” says Rico Muerte.

Find him.

“I’m getting ready to whoop”—Find Rico Muerte near table’s end—“some real ass. This weekend gonna be historic. What do you wanna know about that?”

Reporters’ hands fly up through the dark.

* Eighty-six percent of women in jail have experienced sexual violence. A staggering reality. Most woman in jail have experienced sexual violence.