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men in the center of the field could do little more than wait with their inadequate weapons in hand. The prisoners knew their weapons were no match for these rapid dogs, doom shone in their eyes.
    “It’s probably best you don’t look.”  Matthew put a tender hand to her shoulder.  “I’ll keep a look out for Jacob.”
    Jocelyn turned away just as the beasts lunged at the group of men. Pounding and snarling blended together in an ugly song of pain and the will to survive.  One heavy, bone crunching blow was followed by a whimper. One of the prisoners who held a mallet had wounded an approaching feral dog. Just as quickly, the sound of teeth piercing skin and bones was followed by a horrible shriek.
    “I can’t stand this,” Jocelyn said, covering her ears and humming to shut out the nightmarish screams of death.
    There were some growls, barks, and the sounds of painful screams, followed by another. The sounds were deafening, and Jocelyn legs nearly gave out underneath her. She would have crumbled to the ground in unbelief, if Matthew was not holding unto her. Minutes passed before a sickly silence settled onto the field. Then there was cheering and clapping.
    “A little over 5 minutes,” one of the Enforcers laughed.
    “Longer than that last group,” another voice said cheerily. “Those bitches always win. They’re getting fat like pigs,” he went on laughing.
    “Humans can be so cruel to each other, why not make it a sport to watch them?”
    “They are the cruel ones, not us,” someone said. “They destroyed their own lands. Stupid pigs.”
    “Indeed. Stupid fat slugs. This is good entertainment, a good way to spend our evenings. Who is the Master now…these slugs that we serve? No!”
    Jocelyn dared a glance.
    “I think it’s over,” Matthew ventured.
    Though the fight was over, the scene on the field was something Jocelyn regretted seeing. Bodies, mutilated and dismembered, were scattered about, blood pooling here and there. The dogs’ trainers slowly pulled them back toward their cages.  Some dogs carried the arm or hand of its prey.
    Most of the bodies remaining in the center of the field were dead, though a few moaned as they were dragged away to die in a pile at the far end of the field.
    “Wow, Melanie sure got her story wrong.  This is far from a gentle innocent time.” Sarah shook her head in disbelief.
    “Arcadia’s dirty little secret.”
    “I can’t believe what I just saw.  I didn’t even see it all and I still can’t believe it.”
    “Did you notice who was in attendance,” Matthew asked.
    “Yeah, I saw the leather bands.  Enforcers.  I don’t get it.”
    “It’s probably a way of rewarding them for all their work.”
    “What kind of heartless person can even find amusement in what just happened? It’s more than barbaric.”
    “I guess there’s a whole lot we don’t know about Arcadia and Arcadians.”
    “Matthew.” Another wave of nausea threatened to take over Jocelyn’s gut. “We have to find Jacob.  We have to find him before they bring him out.”  A little voice at the back of her brain questioned the possibility of already being too late, but she refused to pay any attention.  Jacob had to be all right.  He just had to be.  If even for a moment she let that optimistic thread break, she knew she’d lose her mind.
    “We’ll go back to the cells… back where we heard the prisoners’ cries.
    As the cleaning crew prepared for another blood bath, Matthew and Jocelyn navigated through the numerous corridors and pathways. A narrow stairwell led them down to a dark and more ominous level.  The foul odor intensified, while the cries of the prisoners sounded feeble and muffled.
    In silence, Matthew and Jocelyn passed one filthy cell after another, peering in with the hopes of finding Jacob.
    Looking at the dirty, lice-infested men, Jocelyn wondered if she’d be able to recognize her own brother.  The conditions were sub-human and her heart ached