The CruciBowl

The CruciBowl

The Quartermaster’s Store was in the competitors’ section of the arena. 

‘So, this is where every Rummager goes?’ Sam craned his neck over the counter, peering into the cavernous recesses of the storeroom, which appeared to lead off for miles in every direction. An army of 3D printers whirred away under the close supervision of technicians with clipboards and safety glasses. 

‘I can’t believe we’re missing the Opening Ceremony,’ Veronique pouted. 

From within the muffled recesses of the volcano, Sam could hear distant cheers and rapturous applause, as the annual CruciBowl was ushered into existence with what he could only imagine would be unparalleled pageantry. 

‘Really?’ Joe glared at her. ‘You think that’s the thing we should be upset about? He turned to Jenny. ‘And when can I have my Krusa back?’ 

‘When I can be sure you’re not going to vanish, never to be seen or heard from again.’ 

‘Give it to him,’ Veronique pleaded. ‘Or here, you can have mine, just promise you’ll use it straight away.’ 

Sam laughed, as she pretended to pat herself down. 

‘Ha. Ha. Ha.’ The boy’s voice held no mirth whatsoever. 

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