Sitting on the dresser were a number of books. Not a library by any means, but around ten to fifteen different novels. There were a few suspense stories, a love story or two, but the most ironic of all was a novel called, “Return of the Living Dead.” It was a novel based on the classic zombie movie from the 1980’s.
I was starting to get sick of the same little, brown bird flying across the TV screen when we heard a knock at the door.
Michael laid down the love story he was reading, got up from his bed, and walked to the door. He looked back at the two of us with an unmistakable look of concern, which at the time I didn’t understand, and then turned to open the door, greeting Jarvis.
“Hello, gentlemen.”
We all nodded towards him.
“It’s time for dinner. Follow me, please. Gordon is eager to meet the three of you.” We followed him into the long hallway. The lights had a green tint, leaving everybody looking a shade sicker than they actually were. In any other circumstance, I might have found that funny.
We continued around the corner, past the Communications room, and up to a large metal door. It had a large circle doorknob. You had to turn it with both hands to open, and Jarvis actually asked for assistance from Kyle. I would have laughed at that, too, but I was too on edge.
As the door cracked forward, we started to hear laughter and chatter. When it was fully open, we could see roughly seventy people sitting at a table in a large open room.
The circular table was gigantic, catching my attention. There were servants bringing food to the people whom were already seated.
With all the food in the room, I expected to be overwhelmed by the smells. However, canned foods don’t have the same kinds of smells as home cooked foods. This whole place ran on canned or dried foods. I was already getting tired of it.
As soon as we were noticed, the room went quiet. Jarvis led us to three open spots on the far side of the table on the opposite side of the room.
I was reminded of a time when I was in college, before I met Jenn. I left a girl’s dorm room after a one night stand early one morning and had to pass about twenty girls eating breakfast. They all stopped and looked at me the same way. Accusing eyes.
Michael was playing it cool. He nodded his head, acted like he belonged. Little did we know what was about to unfold.
Jarvis motioned for us to step towards the chairs. I couldn’t place it at the time, but I noticed that he didn’t seem to fit in with the rest of this group. They didn’t make eye contact with him, or even acknowledge that he was there.
Each of us got to our chairs, pulled them out and stood there, feeling like idiots. A taller guy sitting next to where Michael was standing, who to my surprise was dressed in a turtleneck, jeans and a blazer, spoke.
“Have a seat, gentlemen.”
As one, we sat down.
The man with the turtleneck, who appeared to be in his forties with prematurely grey hair and two to three day stubble, motioned with his hand.
“Welcome to Avalon. This is the Round Table.”
Michael made eye contact, and replied, “Thank you. I’m assuming you’re, Gordon?”
“Why yes, of course, I’m Gordon.” He paused. “You must be, Michael.”
“Yes. It’s great to finally meet you,” Michael replied. He looked as if he should shake hands but was uncertain if that was proper. Gordon smiled, looking Michael up and down.
Kyle and I sat there watching. There was something uncomfortable about the conversation.
“You’re late, one of the last to arrive. We started to think the worst,” Gordon said.
“Yes, well, my helicopter went down. These two pulled me from the wreckage and saved my life.” He nodded towards Kyle and me. Gordon leaned forward, looking around Michael at us, and then sat back.
“Looks like you’re a lucky man, Michael,” he said. “Not too many heroes out there these days. Tough to find a man who will pull you out of trouble.”
“You’re telling me! I had a hole the size of a quarter in my stomach. These guys patched me up and helped me start to heal,” Michael said in a sharp exhale.
The rest of the people in the room were silent, listening intently to the conversation. For the first time, I noticed that the room was made up of all men. There was a guy a few people to my left with a smile on his face, like he was in on a joke that nobody else got.
“So glad you could get here. Has anybody explained the Arena to you?” Gordon asked.
“Nope,” Michael said. Kyle and I shook our heads as if on the same puppeteer strings.
“Oh, I see. Well good. You’re in for a treat. We really have pulled something special together here at Avalon.” Gordon exclaimed, looking out at his friends around the table, as they all shared a small laugh.
“You see,” Gordon went on in a lively, yet almost sinister tone, “we’ve created a unique world. In just days, we’ve built a society that is being run as it always should have been. A world focused on the Elite, with commoners who work for the privilege of life. Gone are the days where poverty destroys this world. Gone are the days of handouts and free rides. The poor were the first to go in this reckoning. The people who want to work to survive are the ones that we will allow to coexist here with us.”
I cast a discreet glance at Kyle. He was looking at an exit door.
“The Arena is our little way of keeping the peace. Anybody who doesn’t follow the rules, will fight in the Arena.”
More people were smiling around the table now. They were all in on it. My hands were under the table. I was spinning my wedding ring to the point of making my finger sting.
“Fight who? You might ask. I think a better question is fighting what.” His tone was definitely morbid. “The people who don’t follow the rules, fight the infected… with one chance and one chance only.”
Gordon paused, and looked around the room towards all his friends. He’d gotten them worked up, and he was going to draw this out for the big conclusion.
“Simply put, survive. Survive the bouts, and the commoner becomes an Elite citizen.”
“Seems like you’re just toying with them,” Michael said, in his best snooty tone.
“Ahh, but that’s the best part,” Gordon replied passionately. “While we have people who are breaking the rules and have to fight, we have also had volunteers. People who are willing to put on a show for the chance to live a privileged life… a life with us at this very table.”
“Has anybody won?” Michael inquired. The table let out a combined chuckle.
Gordon took a sip from a metal gauntlet of wine, wiped his face, and looked back at Michael.
“The truth is, nobody has made it past round one. Let’s face it though, we’ve really only had a handful of battles thus far.” Gordon dabbed daintily at his lips again. “I’m sure someone will prevail. It could even be you.” I saw Michael startle noticeably. My heart was now bouncing between being stuck in my throat and plunging into my feet.
“Me! What do you mean?” Michael asked slightly panicked.
Gordon pushed his chair back, stood up, and started to walk around the table.
“There are rules at Avalon, and all lead to you winding up in the Arena.”
“Yes, we’ve heard them,” Michael replied sourly. “What does it have to do with us?”
“Michael, Michael, Michael.” Our host exhaled, shaking his head. “The first rule is, no commoner will ever strike, hurt, maim or kill an Elite customer.”
Gordon stepped up to Michael, and looked him directly in the eyes. His face turned serious, with his brows arched and eyes wide open.
“I’ve known Michael Hoskins for fifteen years. We’ve traveled to exotic locations, fucked exotic women in said exotic locations, and most importantly, he’s one of my best friends.”