We all have our reasons for being in this cell, I thought. None of them was close getting us out. I listened intently to every scream. I was soaked with sweat, and my hands were shaking ever so slightly. Squeezing my fists together, I brought them down to my sides, trying to push the shakes out of my system.
We heard a terrified high pitch screech ring through the halls of Avalon. A final deafening cheer roared out from the crowd, and then silence.
The silence was worse than the screams.
Just as I started to go down on my knees, the guards opened the cell door, and escorted us out towards the entrance of the Arena. The microphone made noise, and then a voice boomed out.
“Fellow Avalonians, now that was a show!” It was Gordon. “These criminals fought valiantly. They had their chance at redemption, but sadly, Lady Justice leaned away from freedom this evening.”
We turned a final corner and came up to a set of steel bars that overlooked the entire arena. We watched as three black troopers were wrangling two Zs with poles that wrapped around their necks, and escorting them back out of the stadium. It was a vulgar version of Animal Control. There was a mess of blood and body parts strewn across the linoleum flooring that some women were busy mopping up.
“I have exciting news, however,” Gordon continued enthusiastically, “tonight’s festivities are far from over. We have a special treat in store for all of you.” He paused to gain momentum.
“A double feature!” The crowd went wild again. Standing there facing my doom, I cursed them all under my breath.
“Five fighters, each who have broken one of Avalon’s three sacred rules, are here to see if Lady Justice is on their side. Facing these criminals, are our newest additions to the Arena. I’d like to introduce the new…” He opened his arms wide to address the crowd, who leaned forward in anticipation. Gordon took in a deep breath and bellowed into the microphone.
“Death Armor!”
The crowd went insane as Zombie Michael and two other Zs dressed in full death armor charged into the area. They were held by chains attached to their leatherneck braces and in turn, attached to a pulley system on a far wall. The troopers holding the opposite ends were in control.
Each of the Zs in death armor paced wildly back and forth, trying to run to the walls. As soon as they would get close, the troopers would yank on the chains, stopping the Zs in their tracks, and in some cases, pulling them off their feet all together. It became a game that the crowd laughed over.
Looking around the arena, it was smaller than I imagined. Hiding places would be nonexistent. We were in a giant indoor room, which did in fact, appear to be the trade show floor of the hotel, just as Mr. Muscle described. The arena walls were circular in nature and spanned maybe three hundred feet in diameter. In the middle, were three white square columns that supported the room, so it wasn’t completely an open space.
Kyle got my attention, and nodded towards them.
“See that?”
I looked closer and amongst the smears of black-red blood, I noticed weapons sticking into the columns. Lower to the ground were simple tools like wooden poles and small clubs. The higher up however, we started to notice a deadlier arsenal including metal spears, swords and spiked maces. It would take two people, one propping the other up to get to them.
The crowd seemed to fade into the background as I spied Gordon, straight across from us. Perched up on his throne at the tip of the stage, he was holding the microphone and dressed in a white, Roman toga with a green crown. In fact, all of the Elites sitting above were dressed in white togas.
“This is fucking sick,” Kyle spat as he noticed.
The crowds around the fence, the commoners, were dressed in torn jeans, ripped t-shirts, skirts, or whatever they were probably wearing the day the world ended. Dirty and broken down, these people were seemingly just as sick as the Elites were. All of them cheering for the death of their fellow man. It was hard to imagine so many of them would just go along with it.
Following the herd would be the death of us.
After all, TV was gone; what the hell else was there to do? Nothing was mundane anymore. Every action, every decision had life or death written on it. It hit me right then and there. This is how Gordon controlled the masses, making sure they were entertained, giving them something to root for, bet on, to be happy about. I felt vomit hit the back of my throat, but managed to keep it at bay, the burn going all the way back down.
There were also a few women up there with the Elites as well. Matching their male counterparts, they were dressed in white cloth, but it stopped at their waist, leaving their breasts fully exposed. They were going from throne to throne, pouring wine and lighting cigars.
It was clear now; this is how many of the women escaped working outside with the commoners. Perhaps this was what the female gladiator in our little imprisoned group was talking about when she said she refused to be a slave.
In his highest and mightiest tone, Gordon continued to drone on. He announced each of us, along with our crimes. Mr. Muscle was escorted into the arena as he was introduced. Our host reminded the crowd about the killing of an Elite in an earlier Arena battle.
“We also have our first female gladiator,” Gordon shouted as she was hefted into the arena. “She neglected her womanly duties here at Avalon, and viciously cut the genitals from her husband as he slept!”
“That’s not true! Liar!” she screamed. Her voice was completely muted by the crowd as they all booed in unison.
“Next we have our little Asian friend, who fancies himself as a martial arts force to be reckoned with. He tried to live here for free, deciding that he’d rather sleep all day than work alongside all of you dear, diligent men and women, who are building a better society for us to live in.”
Who knows what the truth was concerning the Asian. He didn’t flinch at the accusation, and appeared to be meditating even as he was shoved into the middle of the arena. For all we knew, he just simply wasn’t the right color to be at Avalon. Looking around the room, I didn’t see anyone but white males sitting in the Elite section.
Chauffer stood up next to Gordon, looking as if he turned part shark, greedily glaring at Kyle and me.
“And finally, I’d like to take a moment to introduce two newcomers to Avalon. These two idiots thought they could get away with beating my good friend, Mr. Chauffer, here to near death, just to try to steal his tickets to Avalon. They actually showed up, thinking we wouldn’t notice that they each have full heads of hair,” he said with a giant smile. The crowd burst into a hysterical laughter at the joke. Chauffer shot Gordon a look that said he was less than amused.
All five of us were in the Arena now. The Elites and commoners alike were amped up, and ready to go. I was jumping up and down in place, getting my blood going. I was preparing mentally for battle. I was preparing for war.
I could never have prepared what was about to go down.
Chapter 25
I say, we put their little society to the test.
“Let the games begin!” Gordon’s voice rang though the microphone speakers.
The troopers surrounding us in the arena dispersed and retreated to the safety behind the gate to our rear. Another gate opened at the far side of the arena, and ten Zs stumbled out towards us.
The three chained Death Armor Zs were still locked up securely, but going absolutely berserk. The Troopers holding the chains were being pulled forward, and it was taking multiple men to hold them back. They weren’t going to release them right away.