by Mark Church
A soldier yanks back on the server’s hair forcing his face upwards before the stick wielding soldier rushes forward and forces the object into the server’s mouth. Gagging and coughing, the server struggles as the soldier forces the stick down his throat. Inch by brutal inch, the stick disappears as the soldier uses all his strength to skewer his human kabob. It’s not long before the server’s struggles cease, oxygen deprivation mercifully releasing him from his suffering.
The stunned crowd erupts into cheers once again as the soldiers drop the server to the ground. Only a foot of the sticks original three-foot length is protruding from the dead server’s mouth, blood dripping from its end.
Appalled by what she just witnessed, Hannah demands “I want to go home.”
“But...” Ken doesn’t get to finish his sentence.
“Now!” Hannah says firmly. “I’m not going to watch any more of this. It’s barbaric!”
Embarrassed by Hannah’s outburst and fearing that she’s prepared to make a bigger scene, Ken doesn’t try to argue and hurries her towards the exit.
Snickers and whispers follow Ken and Hannah as he escorts her out of the booth. After they’ve gone, the amused spectators return their attention back to the field. The action is just getting good and they don’t want to miss a thing.
✽✽✽
The two retreating servers hear the roar as the crowd cheers the death of their fallen comrade. Having barely escaped a similar fate, they realize that capturing their opponent’s flag is their only hope of survival. They throw caution to the wind and run towards the opposition's end of the field. As they round a wooden wall the flag comes into view with only the sentinel there to defend it.
As they race across the open divide, they expect soldiers to spring out of hiding places at any time to cut them off. They are halfway to the flag and, other than the sentinel, still no soldiers. With less than twenty-five feet to reach and defeat the sentinel, and then capture the flag, hope gains a foothold.
The servers see the sentinel brace himself for combat. In their haste to attack, they don’t notice the entwined sticks and straw that is clearly different from the ground around it. They make it three steps across the questionable surface before their weight collapses the material and plummets them into a ten-by-ten-foot pit filled with skyward jutting spikes. It happens so quickly that feelings of hope still occupy their minds as the unyielding protrusions impale their bodies. While their end is eerily similar to that of their teammate, it is quick and without suffering.
The SF team continues to seek out the servers even though they could have already captured their flag. The fans want a show and they are going to give them one. Each time the soldiers engage the servers they find ‘creative’ ways to neutralize them. It’s obvious that the crowd appreciates their efforts as they roar their approval with each encounter.
At the ninety-minute mark, the scoreboard displays a score of nine to zero in favor of the SF team. Having dispatched all but one of the server combatants, the soldiers converge on the server’s sentinel. As they surround her, she responds by swinging her weapon wildly towards one soldier and then another in a futile attempt to keep them at bay. The soldier’s toy with her, mock charging from the left and then the right.
An announcer comes onto the loudspeaker, asking the crowd, “Mercy or death?”
The crowd’s response is mixed but the chants of “death” eventually drown out the calls for “mercy”. The noise level in the stadium is deafening. The crowd has worked themselves into a bloodthirsty frenzy.
The announcer booms, “Death it is!”
Once a proud warrior and still a proud warrior, the sentinel breaks the spear over her knee in a show of defiance. Still gripping the blade end, she throws the handle at the feet of the lead soldier. The crowd quiets at this unexpected turn of events.
Looking around the stadium and then at the soldiers, the sentinel extends the remaining part of the spear into the air before growling, “I’ll see you all in hell!” At the end of her proclamation, she tightens her grip on the spear’s hilt and, with both hands, drives the blade down and into her abdomen.
The mortally wounded sentinel struggles to remain standing but can only do so for a moment or two before dropping to her knees and then on to her side. As the last bits of life leave her, the stunned crowd finds their voice. They began cheering wildly, obviously pleased at this unprecedented turn of events.
Turning to one of his friends Bill says, “Ken’s going to wish he was here to see that. What an ending!”
His friend replies, “Depends on whether or not he’s got that cutie on her back.”
Both men chuckle. “You’ve got a point.”
“Come on, Bill, I’ll buy you a victory drink.”
The two men enjoy their drinks as labor servers begin removing the bodies from the field. Like most others in the stadium, Bill and his friend have no guilt or remorse about the slaughter they just witnessed, they have become so calloused they don’t give it a second thought.
Too many in the ‘civilized’ world have lost what little humanity remained after the war, most turning a blind eye to unpalatable events if they benefit in some way. Their complacency has allowed their government to reshape itself in the form of Hitler, Stalin, and Mao and now, by comparison, their new leadership makes the most nefarious regimes in history look like pacifists.
The government uses the Ultimate Warrior game as a tool to dehumanize those they deem inferior. The games have gotten increasingly more violent which helps to desensitize the citizens to the servers’ pain and suffering.
While there are those who privately condemn the government brutality, they remain publicly quiet. Dissenters are dealt with swiftly and harshly, and spies are everywhere.
✽✽✽
Hannah is shaken by what she just witnessed at the stadium. She is inconsolable as Ken takes her home.
“I can’t believe that you find that entertaining,” Hannah says incredulously.
“It’s just a sport,” Ken responds casually.
“A sport! They killed that man!”
“He was a game server. They know the risks.”
“Not that it matters, but did he have a choice?” asks Hannah
“No, but it was his time.”
“His time to die?” Hannah looks furious. “That’s revolting.”
“I think you are taking this way too seriously.”
“I know what I’m not going to be taking seriously, and that’s you,” snaps Hannah defiantly.
Ken pulls up to Hannah’s apartment, “Can I walk you up?”
“No, and it’s best that you don’t call me anymore.”
“But I…” Ken starts before being cut off.
“Goodnight!” Hannah slams the door as she exits his vehicle.
Hannah walks quickly into her apartment’s foyer. She races to her unit and, with trembling hands, struggles to unlock the door. Finally gaining access, she enters and slams the door behind her. Tears began streaming down her face, her thoughts vacillating between anger, sadness, and revulsion. Feeling emotionally, spiritually and physically dirty, she feels an urgent need to shower. Intellectually, she knows that scrubbing away her disgust is largely symbolic though the instinctual impulse that is driving her is all too real. Stripping her clothes as she runs to the bathroom, she turns the water on full blast. She can’t get under the stream soon enough.
Today is Hannah’s awakening. She can no long deny what she, thus far, has refused to acknowledge. She has seen the mistreatment of servers and heard speculation about government misdeeds, but nothing to the level that she witnessed today. The idea that she can bury herself in her work and avoid controversial matters has been misguided. Her conscience now demands that she learn the government’s true motives and act accordingly.
Her resistance to the cruel and oppressive government begins tonight.
6 hidden treasures
Kayla wakes just as the early morning light begins to bri
ghten the horizon. She looks over at her mother’s bed where Amy is still sleeping soundly. Careful not to wake her, Kayla slips out of bed and quietly dresses before tiptoeing out the bedroom door.
Kayla loves this time of morning. She’s often the first one up which gives her some time to herself before the chaos of breakfast. In the kitchen, she heats herself a cup of dandelion tea and takes it to the living room. Stoking the fire in the wood-burning stove, she feels the room begin to warm.
Sitting in a chair near the window, Kayla looks out at the frost-covered grass in the hollow. As she sips her tea, she sees the two dogs from yesterday trot out of the woods. After taking a moment to raise their muzzles and sniff the air, they begin playing and chasing each other around the open field.
Kayla enjoys watching their antics while wishing that she had a dog of her own. When their playing subsides, the dogs lie down in the grass next to one another and look towards the house. It’s almost as if they are waiting for someone to come out and greet them.
It’s more than Kayla can bear and, donning her coat and hat, she grabs a leftover piece of meat from last night’s dinner and heads out the front door. With raised heads and perked ears, the dogs focus their attention on Kayla as she walks down the front porch stairs. They freeze in place as she crosses the yard.
When she arrives at the gate, the dogs are still a hundred feet away. Remaining behind the safety of the fence, Kayla purses her lips and makes a smooching sound as she tries to entice the dogs to come closer. Both dogs stand but only the female begins wagging her tail.
In a sweet voice, Kayla begins urging the dogs to approach the fence. The female takes a few hesitant steps then stops to look back at her mate. The male stays put. Kayla continues to call until the female resumes her cautious approach, her wagging tail picking up speed with every step.
Stopping ten feet short of the fence, the female begins to whimper and whine. The dog wants to come closer but is cautious. In an effort to build trust, Kayla gets down on her knees before resuming her calls. The lowered posture does the trick. The female drops her head and crouches down before doing a half walk, half crawl, to the fence. Kayla offers her a piece of meat through the woven metal. The dog sniffs at the offering before gently taking it from Kayla’s hand. After wolfing it down, she begs for another piece. Kayla produces another tasty morsel and makes sure that the dog sees it before opening the gate. As the dog focuses its attention on the meat, Kayla steps beyond the safety of the fence.
The prospect of another scrap is more than the dog can stand. She comes close and sits down in front of Kayla.
“Good girl,” Kayla quickly rewards the dog with the meat and a pat on the head.
After gulping down the morsel, the dog licks her hand. Kayla’s not sure if the lick is meant as a ‘thank you’ or if the dog’s interest lies in the lingering smell of meat. Either way, the contact with the dog is welcome. She has always loved dogs and it’s been a long time since she’s had a canine companion.
The dog turns sideways and leans on Kayla’s legs, begging to be petted. Kayla happily accepts the dog’s invitation and begins stroking it from head to tail. The dog’s tail is wagging so hard that its entire butt is shaking. Kayla muses, “If we could figure out a way to connect that tail to our power supply, we’d have all the electricity that we need.”
Kayla does a quick check on the male dog. He is still standing where the female left him. He seems a bit distressed. Kayla wonders if humans have mistreated him in the past. That would certainly explain his hesitancy.
Kayla grabs the female on either side of her head and says, “I’m going to name you Shadow.”
As if the dog understands, it begins furiously licking Kayla’s face.
“Oh, you like that name, huh?”
The dog continues its slobbery assault.
“Looks like you made a friend?” Kayla hears Amy yell from the porch.
Kayla stands and turns, “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”
“What about the other one,” Amy asks as she walks towards the gate.
“He won’t come near me.”
“Give him time,” Amy advises arriving at Kayla’s side. “He’ll eventually warm up.”
“This is Shadow.” Kayla introduces her new friend.
“You’ve named it already, huh? Sounds like you’re planning on making her permanent.”
Amy offers the dog the back of her hand. The dog sniffs and then gently licks her hand.
“Can we keep them?” begs Kayla.
“I’m not sure that they want to be kept – especially him.” Amy looks out at the male pacing back and forth nervously.
“Like you said, he’ll come around.”
“That’s two more mouths to feed plus however many more are in momma’s belly.”
“I’m sure they’ll earn their keep,” Kayla counters.
“We’ll see, but for now, we’ve got to get breakfast ready.” Amy is already walking back to the house. “Remember – we’re leaving early, and we still have a lot to do.”
Kayla pats Shadow on the head and says, “I’ll see you later, girl. You stick around, okay?”
The dog nuzzles Kayla‘s neck as if she understands.
Kayla gives the dog one more pat before rising and catching up with her mother. Before she goes inside, she turns to check on her new friend and sees that Shadow has rejoined her mate.
He’s licking her face profusely, obviously relieved that she has returned safely.
✽✽✽
By now the rest of the group is awake and making preparation for their excursion into town. After fueling up with breakfast, they finish loading up the truck with lunch, water, and weapons. Everyone will be armed except Luke and Emily. Operating like a small army may seem like overkill, but it’s a dangerous world and threats can materialize at any time from any direction. It’s prudent to be prepared for all contingencies.
They’re taking two trucks in the hopes that they find enough plunder to fill them both. Rationing fuel isn’t a concern at this point because the town’s abandoned gas stations still have huge surpluses in their underground tanks and Jake’s crew has the right tools and know-how to extract the precious commodity.
Loaded and ready to go, the trucks pull out. Cole is driving the lead truck followed by Kate driving the second truck. Jake and John, respectively, are riding shotgun and in this case, ‘riding shotgun’ isn’t just a cliché. Amy and Kayla make up the balance of Cole and Jake’s truck while Mike, Gena and the kids ride with John and Kate.
Kayla’s new canine companions emerge from the woods and begin following the trucks. Kayla sticks her head out of the window and yells for them to stay. As if they understand, both dogs stop and lay down.
“Are those the dogs from yesterday?” asks Cole.
“Yeah, I officially met them this morning. Well – the pregnant female anyway. She let me pet her. The male kept his distance.”
“They’re good looking dogs, they look powerful.”
“That’s an understatement. When I petted Shadow, she felt like fur covered concrete.”
“Shadow?” Jake laughs. “You’ve named one already?”
Kayla looks to her mother for help.
Amy explains, “Kayla would like to adopt them, but I told her that we’d see how it goes.”
Also coming to Kayla’s aid, Cole injects, “They’d make great guard dogs.”
“Likely,” agrees Jake, “but we’d have to feed them.”
“If they help us hunt,” adds Cole, “they’re basically feeding themselves.”
Feeling a bit outnumbered, Jake tables the discussion for now. “We’ll bring it up with the others and see how they feel about it.”
Happy that it’s still up for consideration, Kayla turns to look for the dogs. They are nowhere to be seen. She hopes that means they gave up trying to follow the trucks.
They work their way through the hollow before climbing the mountain along the fire trails that lead out of the valley.
The trails are mostly obscured by leaves and other organic matter and are easily lost in the clutter. Having made the trip numerous times in search of his parents, Cole has the route memorized.
The forest has been virtually untouched for well over thirty years. The logging industry that regularly harvested the trees pulled out well before the war. The absence of loggers has allowed the trees ample time to mature. Their towering height and dense canopies prevent direct sunlight from reaching the forest floor, which inhibits the growth of low, scrubby bushes and plants. Unlike the vine-choked tangles that existed at the turn of the century when the trees were regularly harvested, the forest today is more reminiscent of a city park.
Deer and squirrels dart away as the slow-moving trucks lumber up the mountainside. The trucks’ transmissions groan in protest as they struggle up the steep grade. Fallen trees and large boulders create additional barriers.
They finally reach a ridgeline on the mountaintop. If they were to go left and follow the ridge west for a few miles, they would end up at the ranger station. Instead, they turn right and follow the ridgeline east which eventually takes them to the two-lane highway that leads to the lookout where Cole originally rendezvoused with his father.
When Cole reaches the highway, he swings the truck left onto the blacktop and heads towards the old scenic lookout area. When it is within sight but still a few hundred feet away, he stops the truck to survey the area.
“It looks quiet to me,” says Cole.
“Yeah,” says Jake, “but take it slow until we know for sure.”
Cole proceeds cautiously. When they finally arrive, Cole idles slowly through the area so they can look around. Everything looks as it was when they were last here.
When they are satisfied that there are no hidden dangers, Cole begins increasing his speed. Kate continues following at a safe distance.
Jake notices familiar landmarks as they wind their way down the mountain. After about five miles, the highway begins to level out. Jake remembers that the thick woods on either side of the road give way to open fields in the bottomland.
