It was a person; a young person, and there was a pulse, though the skin was pallid and icy to the touch. Shake the shoulder. "Come on, rise and shine!...You can't stay here." It groaned and stirred only slightly – more of a shiver, really. I swallowed my repugnance – even in that cold air there was a definite aroma rising from the bundle – got a hand under and got him sitting, then hauled him to his feet. The legs buckled and he would have fallen if let go. I sighed and got him across my. The first name read was Janey Lewis, a Sig. The next name was mine. At least I didn't have to wrestle Macy. I hadn't recovered from my last match, and I was being sent right back into the mud, with a girl who didn't even need to wrestle, who simply undressed a crying Natalie Allen, in 29 seconds.I climbed into the pit, and stood near Corner Number 3, wearing somebody else's suit. The high I'd felt after winning my match and which masked how sore I was -- had worn off. I was sore, and I was. More

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