“Okay. So first thing’s first, we need to get to the weapons, no matter where they are. Let’s make that our priority.” Kyle went on to explain a few tactics that he thought would work. No matter what, we had to make sure we stuck together. The three of us would be stronger if we formed an alliance, and had each other’s backs. Our best chance was to keep our heads on our shoulders and work as a single unit.
We agreed on the how’s and what’s, but you know what they say about the best -laid plans. Sometimes, they simply go to shit.
We could hear people passing through the hallway. Every once in a while, someone would stop by, lower their voice, and ask how the guard thought we’d do in the battle tonight. We realized that people were trying to get the inside scoop, feeling out the guard to see how long he thought the battle would last.
We heard one person ask who he should put his money on, and another ask which of us would last the longest. The guard kept talking about the giant Mexican. Everybody graciously thanked him for his help, as if he was giving them some sort of coveted information.
It was clear that there was some sort of betting ring set up. People were waging cash on who would be the first and last to die. Evidently, it was big money, too. We heard numbers like one hundred and two hundred grand being thrown around. They were betting on how quickly we’d die.
This place just got better and better by the second.
I looked over at Zombie Michael. He was still in a frenzy. There were blood soaked scratch marks on the wall, and his eyes had that full red with white haze over them. He would stand against the cell bars, both arms through them continuously reaching towards me like tree branches in a drought reaching out for water. “Not much going on upstairs anymore,” Kyle murmured when he saw me look away from Michael.
“Yeah, I know,” I replied despondently. “Hope we can put him out of his misery quickly.” All we could do was wait, just wait and try to tune out the noise that the new zombie across the aisle from us made. It was no mistake that it was left here with us. Gordon and Chauffer wanted us to watch him, know what we were up against.
The people in the hall outside our cellblock cleared, and the guard seemed to be able to sit back down in his chair.
It started as background noise at first, more of a dull hum, really. We were not immediately sure what it was, glancing at each other then at the door in confusion. It soon became obvious that it was cheering from the Arena. The crowd was getting worked up.
We couldn’t make out what was being said, but someone was speaking through a loud microphone. He went on for a few seconds then paused. The dull background noise was now a roaring cheer.
The guard stuck his head in, spying Kyle with a grin.
“There are sixty-forty odds that you’ll be the last man standing tonight, princess. Sixty for the Mexican, forty percent for you.”
“What about me?” I asked.
“Fifty-fifty odds on you. Same with a woman from one of the other cellblocks. Bets are that you’ll be the first to drop.”
“Shit,” I mumbled.
“We’ll take them all out,” Kyle stated boldly as he rose, jerking his chin in the air.
“Sure you will,” the guard soothed with a crooked smile. “Sure you will, princess.”
Chapter 24
The creeping moments felt like hours. The longer we had to wait, the more tied up my guts felt. My stomach plunged when someone neared the door and stopped. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry; he seemed to be the only sane one around here. He gave the guard a glare to get him on his feet and at attention. Jarvis then entered the room with that same glowing smile he’d given us upon our arrival.
With a demeanor that gave me the impression that he was on our side, Jarvis said,
“You boys sure have gotten yourselves into a bit of trouble.” His gaze fell on Michael, his shoulders slumping just noticeably.
“Not much we can do for this poor soul, but the three of you have a shot.”
“That’s not what we hear,” I replied darkly.
“Don’t be fooled. There are only so many of the zombies we can let into the Arena and facility at one time. If you outlast them, you’ll outlast the battle.”
“How many are there?” I had to ask, but didn’t really want to know.
“Hard to tell, gentlemen, but keep your heads on straight. Stay alive long enough and you’ll walk away from this thing.”
We all looked at each other. Mr. Muscle had sat up and shifted his legs toward the door. He made eye contact with Jarvis, then spun back around and lay down on his bed.
It was just a quick glance, but there was something between them; that much was clear. They tried to play it off as if they didn’t know one another. Not so much as a hello. However, there was an unspoken recognition in each of their eyes, and they sure as hell didn’t want the guard to see it.
“Boys, I’m not sure you belong in this fight. Unfortunately, I’m not the one to make that choice. What I can tell you is that if you survive, there will be opportunity for you.”
Nobody said anything. His words were sincere, and caught me off guard. For a moment, I found myself pondering why he would be giving us the insight, and wondered what actual meaning lay beneath what he was saying.
“Well, I’m here to take you to the arena,” he spoke apologetically. “The first battle is in progress, and you’re up next.” He sighed heavily, and then looked over his shoulder toward the door.
“Chop, chop, men.” Seven guards entered the room. Despite a slight struggle, we were forced into handcuffs, and taken from our respective cells.
As we left the room itself, our cellblock guard winked at Kyle while he passed. Kyle gave him a large smile. Then, without hesitation, he snapped his head forward connecting with the guard’s nose. The guard dropped to the ground screaming through his tears.
“You broke my bloody nose!”
Another guard punched Kyle in the back. Without flinching, he looked down at the bleeding guard and said, “Sorry about that, princess.” In any other situation, I would have laughed my ass off. I could always count on Kyle to settle a score.
We were led past the communication center on our way to the arena. With each step forward, I could feel my heart beat increasing. Unfortunately, my knees were getting weaker. The crowd was really hyped up again, seriously into whatever they were watching.
I have been to games before: football, baseball, basketball and just about every other professional sport out there. Never have I heard a crowd hitting the pitch that this one had. They were living it up… whatever it was.
Eight PM blinked on every red LED clock we passed in the manila hallways.
We were taken to a holding cell that already housed two other people. The first was not an unattractive woman, wearing a half ripped red skirt and a skintight white top that showed more cleavage than I would have expected. She made eye contact with Kyle as we walked in. According to the odds, she was my competition for the first to die in battle.
The second person was a smaller man of Asian heritage. He was wearing loose black cargo pants and a black tank top. He was sitting in a corner with his legs crossed, deep in meditation. He didn’t open his eyes or even acknowledge our presence.
The five of us couldn’t see anything through the bars. The arena was to our backs, but we could hear the crowd’s roaring coming in like waves, assumingly, every time someone died in the arena.
“We have to stick together. It’s the only way we’ll survive,” Kyle said hastily, looking over the contestants. Nothing from the Asian, but the woman nodded in agreement.
“I shouldn’t even be in this place,” she growled. “All I did was tell that son-of-a-bitch that I wasn’t going to be his slave.”