Renegade Runner Nicole Conway (christmas read aloud txt) 📖

walls, revealing a screen about the size of a 36-inch TV. It flickered to life, wavering in and out of focus for a moment. Seriously? Enola had said humans were supposed to be primitive and unintelligent compared to other aliens, but they couldn’t even get their TVs to work?

I scowled, slowly rising to my feet as the screen continued to flicker. One half of it was covered in splintered cracks like a fan of spiderwebs. Maybe someone had already taken a swing at it. Not a good sign.

At last, the screen lit up with the image of a creature I had absolutely no name for, reclining in a plush, bowl-shaped chair. Had to be an alien. Or someone’s idea of a bad joke. It looked like a slimy green bowling ball with a flabby frog-like head, huge watery eyes, and tiny arms and legs. Like a toad that had swallowed a beachball or something.

“Greetingsssss, my petssss, and welcome. I am your esssssteemed patron, Routilondric, otherwisssse known assss ‘Rout.’” The creature hissed and croaked, its voice somewhat garbled by the lousy screen. Or maybe that was just the way it talked. “In momentssss, you will all be privileged to take part in the greatessssst event of our known universsssse. Many of you will not sssssurvive, but ressssst asssssssssured, your part in thissss noble contesssst will endure forever. However, if you wissssssssh to elevate your chancessss of sssssurvival, pay clossse attention to the following orientation presssentation.” The creature gave a wave of one of its three-fingered hands, a revolting smile turning at its too-wide, amphibious mouth before the screen went dark again.

I took a step closer to the screen, breathing hard as my thoughts raced. A contest? Survival? What was that thing talking about?

I flinched as the screen lit with a sudden, brilliant display of footage showing sleek alien crafts skimming low over alien landscapes—some lush and green, others rocky and barren. They bumped and scraped one another in a frantic attempt to claim first place, roaring by with engines white-hot and sunlight glinting off their elaborate paint jobs.

My mouth dropped open.

Those looked just like the high-speed crafts I’d seen in that commercial when I’d spotted the other human girl! One of those aircrafts had crashed, obliterated to nothing but fire and debris in seconds. But … why were they showing me this?

A smooth, computerized male voice began speaking over the footage. “The Renegade Run has been the pride of the Alzumaris System for three millennia. Competitors are welcomed from all corners of the known galaxy to test their strength, skill, and intellect against one another in three races. The prize? Fame, fortune, and unrivaled opportunity.”

I snapped my mouth shut again as panic gripped at my throat like an icy fist, squeezing until I could hardly breathe at all. My gaze darted over the screen as more images blinked by: footage of alien creatures dressed in strange black bodysuits, carrying gun-like weapons as they fought for control of a grounded craft.

They were murdering each other? For a racing contest?

“Each renegade team is given five days to complete the circuit while acquiring as many achievement points as possible along the way. The team that has acquired the most points upon crossing the finish line is awarded first place,” the male voice explained evenly, his tone never changing despite the gory spectacle of one alien bludgeoning another with the butt of his weapon displayed on the screen. “Passing the designated finish line first earns a renegade team one hundred points. Finishing second or third earns forty points. Disabling an opposing renegade team is worth one point.”

My stomach clenched and my hands shook as I tried to process that. They actually rewarded you for killing other people in the race?

That was … sickening.

The voice spoke on without hesitation, explaining the details of the rules, regulations, and expectations of the contest. Each renegade team could only have two members, but only one had to cross the finish line to win. Each competitor on a team could only carry three weapons, but the actual aircraft couldn’t have any offensive or defensive weaponry built into it. You could keep anything looted off fallen competitors or their crafts, but if your teammate died, you couldn’t replace them. You had to continue on alone.

I struggled to keep up, but the more he spoke, the more my heartbeat thrashed in my ears and my body trembled in terror. I shrank back from the screen as the reality of my situation settled in. They were going to make me do that—race in that contest? No! I couldn’t! Why would they even think I—

Oh no.

That voice from the window, when that slimy round monster had bought me, had mentioned that I was good at running.

This race was called the Renegade Run.

Oh my god. Was it possible he’d confused the two? Did he think I was good at this kind of running?

“Hey!” I shouted, spinning around to look for something to talk at. There had to be a security camera or something in here keeping tabs on me, right? A microphone hidden somewhere? “This is a mistake! You have to let me out of here! I’m not that kind of runner! Can anyone hear me?”

No reply.

“Hello? Please, I’m … I’m only good at actual running! I don’t know how to drive one of those spaceships! There’s no way I can do this! Can you hear me? Hello? There’s been a mistake!”

Still no answer.

Either no one was listening, or no one cared.

Oh my god. I … I was going to die.

My heart dropped to the soles of my feet. No! This couldn’t happen! I had to get out! Right now! I didn’t know how to fly one of those things. I’d never even held a gun before. I couldn’t possibly win.

“No!” I screamed as I paced the perimeter of the metal room. “I can’t do this! Please! You have to let me out! Someone, please, help me!”

Nothing.

The orientation video ended with a final announcement from