The man in the sleeveless brown shirt laughed loudly as he turned around to face his captives. He whooped loudly and said, “You like that shite? We practiced that shite all week, man!” He took Zach’s rifle and pistol, handed these to a man standing next to him, and then drew his revolver.
No one responded to the man, so he said, “Oh, come on. Bunch of sore fucking losers. Tell me that wasn’t the slickest ambush you’ve ever seen. You! Come on, give me some props!” He pointed at Zach, who, unlike the others in his group, looked entirely calm, as if this was all going according to plan.
“I’ll show you an even better ambush,” he said. “Do you really think this is all of us? We’re just the advance party for the main force.”
The men in red exchanged worried looks amongst themselves, but kept their guns up. Zach went on.
“I brought fifty men with me, but only fifteen of us are here right now. You do the math. We’ve got thirty-five well-trained, well-equipped men right behind us. They’ve probably seen what’s going on by now and are setting up their shooting positions. No telling where they’ll attack from first.”
Some of the men began to look over their shoulders, fearing the tell-tale report of a sniper at any second. But the Irish man, clearly their leader, fixed Zach with an icy stare, his eyes narrowed. He looked like he did not believe Zach, but also feared to underestimate his enemy. Then all at once he burst out laughing and clapping his hands.
“Oh, you almost had me, dude! Almost fucking had me! I was like, ‘Mama! Come save me arse! I’m a dead man, Mama!’” He leaned against a man standing next to him and pressed his face into his shoulder, feigning loud, high-pitched weeping.
The man finally stood back up, turned back to Zach with outstretched arms, and said, “Hey, I’m sorry, friend. I didn’t mean to make fun of you like that. That was a good fucking bluff. I’m just really fucking high. You want some coke? Shite’s not that good, but it’s better than nothing, eh?”
He held out a small bag of white powder, offering it to Zach, who was not too surprised that drugs still plagued humanity. He shook his head, so the man took a pinch for himself and snorted it. “Fine, fuck you too,” he said, wiping his nose as he returned the bag to his pocket. “What’s your name, arsehole?”
“You tell me your name first, and I’ll give you mine,” Zach answered, trying to put some strength back in his position.
The man glared angrily at Zach, not at all tolerant of having his orders ignored. He took a step towards Zach and said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I did not know that this was a FUCKING TALK SHOW!” The veins in his neck bulged out as he screamed. He shoved the barrel of his revolver in Zach’s face and screamed, “Do you think this is a goddamn joke?! Do I look like your bitch?! Tell me your fucking name!”
With a .45 revolver being brandished in front of his nose by a man high on coke, Zach decided that this was a bad time to be a tough guy. “Zach. Zach Davidson,” he answered.
The man lowered his pistol, and his face instantly regained its calm disposition, as if that fit of rage had never even happened. He extended his hand and said, “Zach. Hi, my name is Edmund, but don’t call me Ed or I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.” Not wanting to piss him off again, Zach shook his hand carefully.
“You got a family, Zach Davidson?” Edmund asked, his voice taking on a tone like one would use when speaking to a new neighbor.
Zach absolutely did not want to answer that question, but was still wary of upsetting Edmund. “I have a daughter. Her name is Abby.”
“Abby. That’s a pretty name,” Edmund said. “This is my family: the Lost Boys!” He spread his arms wide to indicate all the men standing around him, including the few men who had just shown up with their vehicles, all three of which were 7-tons.
“Yeah, I’ve seen you guys before,” Zach said. “Killed some of you too. About twenty of you gunned down four unarmed boys and raped their sister.”
Edmund looked confused and said, “No, no. That could not have been us. We don’t rape, I don’t allow it. You see, when Edmund, that’s me, was little and started getting into trouble, his mama once sat him down and told him that he could steal, sell drugs, or murder and she would still love him. But if he ever raped a girl, she would slit his throat herself. And before turning herself in, she would go to the Pope, and she would beg him to ask God to keep Edmund’s soul in Hell. No, what you saw was someone else.”
“But they all wore red like you.”
“Look bro, these are all of me guys, okay? Fifty of us. I’d know if you killed just one of them, let alone twenty. What you saw was probably one of our brother factions.”
“Brother factions?”
“Goddamn it, man! Do I look like a fucking teacher to you? Look, we’re an autonomous gang, but all the gangs within three hundred fucking miles of Lake Michigan fly under one flag: red. There’s this guy, see, who fancies himself as the Warlord of the Midwest. Don’t ask me how he came to power in the first place, but he has a small army at his beck and call. The Lost Boys were just trying to do our own thing, but he ‘invited’ us to join him. This guy, he calls himself the Boss, is not the type to suffer his plans to be thwarted, so I joined him. We’re still the Lost Boys, but we have to pledge allegiance to him or worry about being wiped out.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t fucking know, just some arsehole. Is there anything else you’d like to know? Me birthday? What size boot I wear?”
Zach had been stalling for time, trying to come up with an escape plan, but he appeared to have used up all of Edmund’s patience.
“What happens to us now?” Zach asked.
“What happens now is that you arseholes get on our trucks and we take you home as our prisoners. After that, your fates are up to the Boss,” Edmund answered as he turned to walk away. His men started to move in, and Zach turned around to look at his own guys. Ross was here with him, and Zach saw the look on his face, a look that wondered if he would ever see Diane again. Zach sighed. He had to do something to save his guys.
“Wait,” Zach called, and Edmund turned back to him. “I’ve got a deal for you, Edmund: fight me in single combat to the death. If you win, then you can have your prisoners. But if I win, we go free.”
Edmund stared at him like he had just spoken some unknown language. “Are you for real? I know I’m high right now, but do you think I’m that fucking stupid? Why would I fight you for prisoners that are already mine to have?”
Thinking quickly for an answer that he thought might appease a person as unstable as Edmund, Zach said, “Because you know the words ‘single combat to the death’ are just too good to pass on.”
Edmund narrowed his eyes again, glaring at Zach, who wondered if he had reached too far and was about to die. There was a long minute where no one spoke, and then a wicked smile slowly crept over Edmund’s face.
“Name your weapons,” he said.
“Knives,” Zach answered.
“Oh ho ho! I love this guy,” Edmund muttered to himself. Then he turned to his men and said loudly, “I love this fucking guy!” Turning back to Zach, he said, “You’ve got some pretty big balls, Zach Davidson. I like you. Sucks that I have to kill you.”
Edmund handed his revolver to a man near him and then fished a butterfly knife out of his boot, opening it with a flourish to loud applause from his men, who now formed a ring around the two fighters. Zach’s men, all disarmed, were also contained within the ring, forced to kneel, so that they could not escape. Cigarettes were already being exchanged between the gang members as bets were made.
“No interfering from any of you bitches!” Edmund shouted to his cheering men.
Zach drew his KA-BAR and watched as Edmund jumped around energetically. He was not sure if he could win, or if he could even trust Edmund’s word, but he had no other choice. He assumed his fighting stance and waited for Edmund to strike.
***
Abby was playing loud music from an alarm clock in the living room t
hat had a dock for an iPod. Zach’s iPod conveniently had all the songs that would be used during Abby’s dance performance, so she had put them all in a playlist in the order that they would be played in come September 3rd and practiced to that music every day.
Her favorite part was the last song played, a composition by Lindsey Stirling, a popular violinist in the ‘Before Times’. Abby had been a big fan of her music, had watched all of her videos, and memorized all of her dances when she was younger. The song was fast paced but at the same time had a traditional sound, so the dance that went along with it was very fun for Abby to perform.
Zach had been gone for five days now, and Abby hoped that he was on his way back by now. She was waiting on Luke and Molly to come practice with her; Pam was sick and couldn’t make it, unfortunately. Those three were the dancers that Abby would have interactions with during the performance, so they practiced together as much as they could during their free time. Abby especially insisted on practicing with Luke, since he was the other team captain (and, of course, she just enjoyed being around him).
She heard a knock on the front door, so she paused the music and ran over to answer it.
“Hey guys!” Abby said, slightly out of breath.
“Hi Abby,” Luke and Molly said.
“I see you’ve started without us,” Luke pointed out.
“Yup! Come on in,” Abby replied. She closed the door behind her friends then restarted the playlist on Zach’s iPod. The three teenagers ended up practicing for almost two hours without break, which was enough time to run through the whole set several times, plus time for corrections or suggestions.
After the three of them had decided to call it a day, Abby made sandwiches for lunch. While they ate at the table, they spoke more about their routines, offering each other constructive criticism or advice on how to improve certain moves. At one point during their conversation, Molly suddenly announced that she had to leave. She had forgotten that her parents wanted her home early to do some chores, and she needed to leave right away. Abby thought she noticed a sly smile on the girl’s face as she got up to leave, but couldn’t be sure.
Luke and Abby were silent for a few moments after Molly had left, feeling a little awkward in the fact that this was the first time that they had been alone together outside of school.
“So do you just live here by yourself while your dad is gone?” Luke finally asked.
“Yeah, but my friend Amber across the hall checks in on me every day, plus we have dinner and breakfast together. She’s at work right now, though.”
“Did she come here with you and your dad, too?”
“Mhmm. There were six of us who came together. Amber and Zach are kinda dating, but they’re both stubbornly slow to move things forward. It’s so frustrating because I know that they love each other, but they refuse to admit it.”
“Well, maybe they’re just waiting for the right time,” Luke offered.
“I suppose,” Abby agreed, “but I wish they’d hurry. I’d like to have a mother again.”
“Yeah, I bet. At least you have a loving father, though.”
“That’s true, while he’s around at least, but I’ve been really lonely here since he left, which is why I’m glad you’re here.”
Abby hadn’t really thought about what she was saying before those last words left her mouth, and it was too late to stop herself. It was true that she felt lonely, and she secretly wanted to try spending more time with Luke, just Luke, but she hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Luke raised his eyebrows when he heard this. He really liked Abby, and he also was thinking about spending more time with her. But he didn’t know if she would want that. In fact, he had convinced himself that she would be adamantly opposed to that idea. So what she had just told him had shocked him, leaving both of them in another short, embarrassed silence.
“So I heard you got into a fight last week,” Luke finally said.
“Oh yeah,” Abby said with a small laugh. “It wasn’t really a fight, more like a…”
“More like you just kicking Blake’s butt?”
Abby giggled and said, “Yeah, pretty much. I usually never act like that, but he had been making fun of my dad and said that he was going to die. So I just kinda freaked out. I felt bad afterwards, but…he kinda had it coming.”
“Hey, you don’t have to justify yourself to me. Blake’s a jerk and a bully, and him nearly getting his arm snapped in half by a fourteen year old girl has been the most hilarious piece of news I’ve heard in a long time. Plus, I think it’s wicked cool that you can fight like that.”
Abby blushed and said, “Well, Zach taught me everything I know. He’s got two different black belts, you know.”
“Wow. I wish he could teach me how to fight,” Luke replied.
Abby hesitated for a second, and then said, “If you want, I could teach you. Like I said, Zach’s taught me really well.”
“Really? You could do that?”
“Sure. Come on, we can start right now,” Abby said, walking over to an open space in the living room. She tried to conceal her huge grin while her back was still to Luke. She was not sure if this counted as a date, but she sure hoped so.
Chapter Fifteen
Zach held his ground in a defensive stance, knife tight to his chest a few inches above his waist and his off-hand up near his face. Edmund circled around him, acknowledging the cheers of his men with both arms raised in the air, like a champion boxer.
“Are you ready, Zach?” Edmund shouted. Zach said nothing as Edmund began to dance left and right, his feet moving with incredible deftness. A pang of worry touched Zach’s heart as he realized that this may be a much more difficult fight than he had imagined.
Edmund lunged suddenly and cut Zach across the arm before he even saw it coming. Zach chopped down at Edmund with his much bigger blade, but missed by a large margin. The Lost Boys roared loudly as the honor of ‘first blood’ went to their leader, and he pandered to them by holding the blood-edged knife high in the air.
Another lightning-fast strike from Edmund caught Zach on his other arm and Zach’s counterstrike missed once again. Edmund followed up quickly with another strike, starting out high but suddenly dropping low, slicing Zach on his left side. Edmund suddenly got behind him, and before Zach could turn fully, he cut him low across his back.
“Come on, arsehole, don’t make this too easy!” Edmund jeered. He stepped forward, swinging his left fist at Zach’s body. Zach did not move to block, assuming that Edmund was just trying to draw him out for another knife strike. But when Edmund’s fist hit his left side, Zach felt a sharp, fiery pain. He’d been stabbed! But how? Edmund laughed and opened up his left hand, revealing a short, switch-blade knife.
Now favoring his side a little, Zach decided to go on the offensive since playing defense was clearly not working. He lunged forward with his KA-BAR, but Edmund side-stepped it. He slashed back and then forwards, missing both times. Edmund slashed at him again. This time Zach was able to block the attack and put a boot in Edmund’s chest, but that switch-blade still cut his shoulder. Zach lunged at Edmund quickly, but missed again. Edmund laughed and wagged his finger at Zach.
Zach realized that he was going to lose this fight, and quickly, if he couldn’t at least get one of Edmund’s knives away from him. So he tried something unexpected and, admittedly, a little desperate. He tossed his knife to his left hand and switched his feet to a ‘south-paw’ stance. Edmund ‘ooo’d’, pretending to be impressed. Zach could not fight with his left hand, but he wanted to free up his dominant hand so he could get a hold of slippery Edmund. He thought that if he could bring him in close and hold on to him, taking away his quickness, he’d be able to overpower him.
He made an awkward left-handed lunge at Edmund, who easily dodged it and then countered, as expected. But Zach’s right hand snapped forward and snagged Edmund by the wrist. He twisted it violently, making Edmund cry out and drop his switch-blade, but he slipped his arm f
ree before Zach could break it. Zach kicked the knife aside, and it slid outside the ring of men. Edmund chuckled as he nursed his wrist and said, “Not bad, my friend! Not bad!”
Taking his KA-BAR back in his right hand, Zach resumed the offensive with renewed vigor. He and Edmund displayed masterful fighting techniques, slashing, stabbing, and parrying, both men able to score hits more than once. The crowd was entirely lost in blood lust, clamoring loudly at the violent spectacle before them. But Zach’s men watched in silent apprehension, knowing that their fates hung on the outcome of the fight.
Edmund suddenly pivoted and in a flash he had twirled his body and kicked Zach in the head, stunning him. He staggered back and fell to one knee, but looked up in time to see Edmund’s knife coming down at his face. Zach leaned back and twisted his neck, but the knife’s tip still caught him, leaving a long cut along his jawline. He tried to regain his feet but Edmund kicked his knife out of his hand and then tackled him to the ground, mounting him in the process.
Edmund tried to slam his knife into Zach’s heart, but Zach blocked it, gripping Edmund’s knife hand and pushing up for all he was worth. Edmund used both hands to push the knife down and, having the benefit of gravity, was slowly winning the battle. Zach could feel his strength draining as the tip of the knife was coming closer and closer to its target. His mind raced as he tried to figure out how to save his life. The crowd’s roar was deafening as they sensed the end of the fight drawing near, and Zach’s heart pounded in his chest. He tried bucking Edmund off of him, but he hardly budged. Suddenly, Zach had an idea. It was stupid and reckless, but there was nothing else he could do.
He bucked Edmund up again and instantly released Edmund’s wrist. With the resistance suddenly gone, the butterfly knife immediately slammed into Zach’s body, penetrating as far as the blade would allow. Zach cried out in pain, but he did not die. In bucking Edmund, he had lifted his hips off the ground just enough to maneuver his torso a bit. So now the knife only made a wounding blow just below his shoulder instead of a killing blow into his heart.
His Name Was Zach Page 28
