All at once, the ground begins to vibrate. I can hear the sound of grinding metal coming from somewhere beneath the floor of the stadium. Then two slits open up in the ground and rising from them are giant, twisting blades. The crowd simultaneously oohs, and I feel sick to my stomach.

At the same time, a platform like the one I rose into the arena on appears at the far end, opposite the neon, flashing exit. I can only just about see the silhouette of whatever it is being raised into the arena. All I can tell is that it isn’t human. It is some kind of beast, a disgusting, huge, spiny creature. A spotlight appears on the creature. It looks like a giant, spiky earwig covered in mucus. Its pincers click together.

So that’s how they’re going to play it. If we won’t fight each other, then they’ll pit man against beast, humans against the deformed creatures our radioactive world has produced. I swallow hard and try to psych myself up. If I can fight crazies and kill radiated wild dogs, I can do this. But none of my dad’s training has prepared me for this, and the creature is so revolting it takes every ounce of resolve in my body not to run away.

The crowd goes crazy, cheering and shouting.

There’s a split-second pause as the creature takes in the sight of its prey standing defenselessly in front of it, then it launches itself forward, racing toward me and the other children at a frighteningly fast pace.

My heart flies into my throat. The adrenaline pumping through me sharpens my faculties and helps me make sense of what I have to do. I understand how this arena is set up. I have opponents, obstacles, but no weapons, but they didn’t go to all this effort just to see us die in five seconds flat. They want to be entertained and that means watching us fight, having us die one by one. I’m supposed to want the other kids to get killed before me.

I spring forward, racing right at the creature. The crowd gasps, clearly not expecting me to make such a bold move. As though following my movements, the rotating saws crash down. I only just manage to leap out of the way. I fall on my side and go rolling across the hard metal grid floor.

But the creature manages to avoid the blades as well, and remains completely unscathed. It rears up like a centipede, showing off a thousand spindly teeth, then roars. Huge strings of spit hang between its teeth, and a fine mist of hot spit sprays the crowd. They squeal like children at Sea World. Don’t they realize they’re watching humans fighting for their lives? Have they become so desensitized to violence?