by Jake Bible
Masters’ jaw dropped. “Holy shit. So why the name ‘The Razor’?”
“Because when I was done killing my opponents, I’d slice their face off with a straight razor and wear it for the next fight,” the Rookie answered flatly.
***
A half-naked waitress set a tray of drinks down next to Legit. “Thanks darlin’.” He tweaked a nipple, pulling her down to him and kissed her deeply. “Be available later.” Legit handed each of the pilots a drink. “Not as good as Jay’s shit, if I remember right, but it’ll do the trick.”
The pilots each took their drinks.
“So, before the fights start, let’s get business out of the way,” Legit puffed his cigar, slowly exhaling. “My proposal is: I’ll let Razor live -no, wait, I won’t have him killed- if he agrees to one more fight. Sound good?”
***
The Rookie stood. “I don’t fight anymore.”
Legit laughed. “Don’t fight? You’re a fucking mech pilot! What the fuck do you call that? Dancing?”
“That’s different.”
“BULLSHIT!” Legit roared. Several conversations stopped, but everyone had the good sense not to look their way.
“You think I can’t make it out of here?” the Rookie grinned confidently.
“You? Sure,” Legit said taking out a pistol and placing it against Masters’ temple. “But Hot Shot will be dead before you get two steps.”
“Sit down,” Jay said calmly. The Rookie glared down at Jay. “Sit. Now.”
The Rookie reluctantly took his seat.
***
“What are you thinking?” Jay asked Legit.
Legit tucked the pistol away and reached over and patted Jay on the knee. “I could always trust Jay Rind to see reason.” Legit leaned back and took another drink. “The last fight tonight is between Kilroy and Crusher John. Now Crusher John is all mine, but Kilroy refuses to play along. He’s also the reigning champ at 135 undefeated bouts. I need Kilroy to go down or I stand to loose a lot of money.”
Legit fixated on the Rookie. “Not quite the 17.4 mill you cost me, but it’s a lot.”
***
“He fights, Kilroy goes down, you make yours and we get to go free? That the deal?” Jay asked Legit.
“Yep.”
“What’s this got to do with me?” Jay asked.
“You brought the Razor here. Nothing personal Jay, just business.”
Jay smirked. “So even though this ain’t my business, you’re making it mine? That it?”
“If you want to see it that way, I guess so.”
“Good. Then if it’s business, let’s talk some real business.”
Legit laughed heartily. “You’ll never hear me say Jay Rind ain’t got balls!”
“I also have remote control of two mechs.”
Legit stopped laughing.
***
Legit turned and stabbed his cigar at Jay. “You may be crazy, but you ain’t that crazy.”
“I just uploaded your DNA to my mech. My life signs go and it comes looking for you. It’s done, Legit. No going back now. You want to hear my deal or not?”
“Keep talking, crazy man.”
Jay tapped at his tablet. “I just sent you a list of parts I need. They’re a little outside my usual budget. Get those and the kid fights.”
“Tomorrow, okay?”
“Nope.”
“Fine… You’ll have them by the end of the night.”
“Great. Deal done?”
“Deal done.”
***
Jay leaned in close to the Rookie. “Know anything about Kilroy?”
“Nope.”
“Think you can take him anyway?”
“Yep.”
Jay studied the Rookie closely then laughed and took a drink. “I can’t figure you out, kid. I hope we live through this so I can.”
Masters stood up. “If everyone’s done using me as the pawn of death I really need to piss.”
Legit nodded to a bodyguard. “He’ll take you. Don’t try anything.”
“Is he gonna hold my dick for me?”
“If that’s your kink, mech boy, then sure.”
“Good to know I have my options open.”
“Go piss…”
***
The first fight took Masters and Jay by surprise. The Rookie didn’t bat an eye.
“Kids? Are you fucking kidding me?” Masters asked, shocked as two boys, no more than twelve were tossed inside the cage.
“Gotta start somewhere,” Legit answered casually.
A buzzer sounded and the two boys stepped out ready to kill. No handshake, no greeting, just death.
It was over in a moment as one boy pinned the other and tore out his opponent’s throat with his teeth. Blood sprayed everywhere as the child stood over the corpse, animalistic screams of triumph coming from his bloody maw.
***
“You’ll like this next fight, Masters,” Legit taunted. “They’re not quite as skilled as your woman, but they’ll put on a show.”
Masters turned on Legit, but Jay held him back as two women, stripped to the waist, entered the cage. “Chill,” Jay cautioned.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Legit scoffed. “Officer Rodriguez and I are old friends. You’re his favorite subject.”
Although the bout lasted a little longer than the previous, it was no less gruesome as one fighter dug her sharpened nails into the other’s chest and ripped a breast clean off.
The crowd exploded with cheers and bloodlust.
***
The third fight was a much stronger contest.
The pilots watched as two evenly matched men went after each other like caged animals, which they were.
One fighter, a squat, tightly muscled man, was a strong ground fighter, but his opponent, wiry and lean, was lightning fast and flexible and able to squirm out of the other’s grasp each time before getting a limb ripped off.
“Skinny goes down in four,” Legit winked at Jay and sure enough the lean fighter started to wobble only seconds into the fourth round.
The slight hesitation resulted in his quick and messy decapitation.
***
As the fourth fight was under way, Masters leaned over to the Rookie. “Drugs?”
The Rookie nodded.
“So how did you…?” Masters asked.
“I didn’t eat or drink the entire day of or during the fight. I wouldn’t let anyone get near me and I watched my gear like a starving zombie.”
Masters glanced down at the Rookie’s cocktail, which was half way finished. Almost imperceptibly, the Rookie nodded to the floor. Below his seat was a small puddle of liquid.
Masters looked at his own drink and blanched, flagging down a passing waitress. “Hey! You guys got any coffee?”
***
“So where are you getting the Reaper chips?” Jay asked Legit as the latest corpse was removed from the cage.
“Huh? I don’t know what you mean, Jay. UDC provides all city/state citizens with Reaper chips at birth,” Legit responded with veiled sarcasm.
“Bullshit. I’ve lived in the waste long enough to know you aren’t getting your fighters from inside the walls. Who are you buying them from? The Ranchers? Or do you just pick from the refugees trying to get in, hoping for a better life than the waste.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Rind,” Legit smiled.
***
“If you’re sticking to the same format, I’m up after this one,” the Rookie said, getting to his feet, eyeing the cage as three ‘offenders’ were whipped mercilessly for the crowd’s entertainment.
“You got it, kid,” Legit smirked. “You’re up. I’ll be announcing this one. What do you want me to call you.”
“The Rookie.”
“Excellent! That’ll make the odds skyrocket in my favor. No one will believe an unknown named The Rookie can take down Kilroy.”
“They can believe what they want. They’ll know the trut
h soon enough when his body is dragged from the cage.”
“Love that spirit!”
***
“Ladies and Gentlemen and those in between!” Legit boomed over the PA. “I’m sorry to say that tonight’s fight has changed.”
A groan erupted from the crowd. Legit made a theatrical quiet down motion. He paused before bringing the old fashioned mic back to his lips, savoring the moment.
“Now you all know me, would I disappoint?”
No’s and never’s rang out.
“Don’t worry, Kilroy will be fighting, but instead of Crusher John he’ll be taking on a newcomer.”
Legit caught the eye of the Rookie standing just outside the cage and grinned wickedly.
“Folks, I give you The Rookie!”
***
Kilroy stepped into the cage, his muscles twitching with nervous, murderous energy. “So you’re the piece of shit that’s supposed to end my reign?”
“Just settling an old debt. Nothing personal,” the Rookie shouted over the crowd noise. “I’ll try to make it quick.” Kilroy just laughed.
The bell sounded and Kilroy came out swinging, his massive arms cutting through the air like steel girders.
The Rookie danced out of reach, studying the big fighter’s movements, watching for his weaknesses, his habits.
“I know what you’re doing!” Kilroy yelled between swings. “But you ain’t gonna find what you’re looking for.”
***
“Jeezus, that guy is fucking huge,” Masters said. “What’s he on?”
“Everything money can buy,” Legit interjected. “300 pounds and almost zero body fat. He’s an unstoppable killing machine. Too bad unstoppable is bad for business.”
They watched the Rookie move around Kilroy, ducking and dodging.
“Ahh, the Razor has gone soft,” Legit mocked.
“Maybe he just isn’t the killer you knew,” Jay said. “People change.”
“Bullshit. That kid’s a homicidal madman. Why’d you think he became a mech pilot?”
Masters and Jay stayed silent, neither sure they wanted to explore the answer.
“Because he needed bigger prey, that’s why!”
***
The crowd grew impatient with the Rookie’s skillful dodging. Glasses and bottles started pelting the fight cage. Liquor splashed the Rookie in the face momentarily blinding him.
That moment was all Kilroy needed. He closed in quickly on the Rookie, landing two powerful gut punches and a right uppercut, simultaneously doubling the Rookie over and sending him flying backwards against the cage.
Stunned, the Rookie barely avoided a boot stomp to the face by rolling across the mat into a crouch. That was when he saw the weakness.
The Rookie stood up, dodged two more swings and cracked his neck.
***
Kilroy was a mat-bound ton of muscle. The Rookie smiled at this realization.
“Keep fucking smiling, dead boy!” Kilroy roared.
The Rookie stayed silent, but turned his body just right, backing himself into a corner, giving the illusion of carelessness. Kilroy took the bait, putting all his power behind a right arm punch.
The Rookie reached above, grabbing the steel cage, and pulled himself up, just clear of Kilroy’s punch. While the brawler was lucky enough not to connect with one of the steel bars, he was unlucky enough to have his arm become trapped between two bars, wedged tight.
***
The Rookie let go of the cage, letting all of his weight fall onto Kilroy’s trapped arm. The snap brought a massive groan from the crowd and then an equally massive cheer. Kilroy tried to slump to the ground, but his still trapped arm wouldn’t let him, forcing him to hang and pull on the limb in agony.
The Rookie casually stepped away from Kilroy and walked to the edge of the cage to stare at Legit. “We’re done!”
Legit grinned viciously and shook his head. Finish it, he mouthed.
“It is!”
Legit pulled his pistol and turned on Masters.
***
Four bodyguards pounced on Jay and Masters, holding both of them tight as Legit placed the barrel of the pistol against Masters’ forehead.
“It’s a shame really,” Legit said. “You seem like a good guy.”
Masters and Jay struggled as Legit pulled the hammer back. The Rookie raged at the cage’s door, trying to force it open, the crowd oblivious to the sideshow as they raged for Kilroy’s head.
Legit paused as the screams of bloodlust turned to screams of agony. He glanced over his shoulder as one by one, members of the crowd grabbed at their heads in pain.
***
Legit’s bodyguards released Jay and Masters, falling to their knees, palms pressed firmly against their skulls, their faces distorted by pain.
“What the fuck?” Legit said, turning and watching the entire roomful of people brought to the ground by some unseen torture.
The screams joined into one horrible crescendo and then…silence.
Before him, every single person laid unmoving, chests still, dead.
Legit was so distracted by the scene that the brutal rabbit punches to his kidneys took him completely by surprise, dropping him to his knees. Masters wrapped an arm around Legit’s throat, locking it tight.
“Any last words?”
***
“Wait!” the Rookie shouted.
Masters placed a knee in the center of Legit’s back and pressed, causing the man to wince and gasp as his spine was stretched. “Why?”
“Because he knows the codes to get out of here. The door is secured from the inside,” the Rookie answered, motioning to the entrance they had come through earlier in the night.
“He’s…right,” Legit choked.
Masters hesitated then slammed Legit upside the head and shoved him to the ground. Jay stepped in quickly and picked up Legit’s pistol.
“Good. Now how about someone open this fucking cage?” the Rookie yelled.
***
Jay shoved Legit against the cage door, pistol trained on his forehead. “Open it asshole.”
“You ain’t gonna shoot me, Jay,” Legit smirked. “You ain’t that kinda guy.”
“But, I am,” Masters called over, having retrieved Legit’s bodyguards’ sidearms. “In fact,” Masters continued hefting a rather large auto-pistol. “I’m the kinda guy that will ass rape you with this before I pull the trigger.”
Legit sized up Masters, laughed and faced the Rookie. “I knew you hadn’t gone soft. These assholes are just your kind of crazy.” Legit reached for the number pad and started to key in the code.
***
Legit had half the code typed in when movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him.
“Whatcha fuckin’ waiting on?” Jay growled.
Legit glanced away from the keypad to one of the dead spectators in the front row. “Did that guy move?”
“What? You saw what happened! Everyone’s Reaper chip took a shit and fried their brains. Which begs the question: why aren’t you fried?”
“Had mine taken out. Ain’t lettin’ nobody have control over my life.”
“Yeah, yeah, finish typing,” Jay sneered. But before Legit could continue, every corpse in the room twitched simultaneously.
“See!” Legit shouted.
***
“Whoa! What the fuck is going on?” Masters yelled, watching the corpses convulse. “They shouldn’t be doing that!”
“No shit!” Jay yelled back. He turned on Legit. “Finish typing in the code! Now!”
“I’m trying! Back the fuck off, Rind!”
The Rookie eyed Kilroy’s corpse as it shook, still dangling by its trapped arm. Then as one, the corpses stilled.
“This is fucking weird,” Masters said.
“You think it’s because of the inoculation?” the Rookie mused, his eyes never leaving Kilroy’s now still form.
“Let me guess,” Jay said to Legit. “You didn’t get inoculated, but
all your people did.”
***
The Rookie never let his eyes leave Kilroy’s corpse, instinct keeping him wary.
“I don’t give a fuck who got a shot in their ass! Get me out of here!” the Rookie insisted.
And then, Kilroy moved. His body no longer dangled, as the corpse stood and tried to turn towards the Rookie, but was prevented by its wedged arm. Kilroy growled low and began to pull against the arm. Flesh started to rip.
“Um, guys?!?” the Rookie gulped.
“Yeah, we know!” Masters responded.
The Rookie risked a glance away from Kilroy.
Every corpse in the room began to stand.
***
Double fisted and taking quick, targeted aim, Masters opened fire. The zombies’ heads exploded with each expertly placed shot.
Legit hit the last number and the cage lock disengaged. “Don’t say I didn’t do nothing for ya Razor! Now someone give me a fucking gun!”
Masters kicked a pistol over and Legit grabbed it up in time to dodge a lunging zombie, putting a bullet in its brain, the headless corpse falling against the cage door.
The Rookie dove for the door, but a loud click told him he was again trapped with the raging corpse of a trained killer.
***
The crunch of bone and snap, pop, tear of sinew and flesh forced the Rookie to switch his focus from the once again locked cage door, to the zombie that was Kilroy.
The hulking abomination, black blood spewing from the stump of its right arm, bared its teeth and roared. The Rookie cracked his neck, readying himself for the attack.
“Anytime you want to try opening the door again, feel free!” the Rookie yelled.
“You’re just going to have to suck it up, kid and deal with your one zombie! We’ve got a few more on our hands!” Jay yelled.
***
“I’m almost out!” Masters hollered.
“Behind the bar! Sixth bottle from the left! Pull it!” Legit yelled back.
Masters ducked two zombies, spun and buried his empty auto-pistols into their heads. He rolled to the bar, springing up and over in one fluid motion and grabbed the bottle as he tumbled to the floor.
Even over the cacophony of zombie howls and gunfire, Masters heard gears clanging. Within seconds the entire wall behind the bar opened onto an arsenal to rival the mech base itself.
“Oh, I wish Harlow could see this,” Masters muttered, grabbing a 12 gauge full-auto shotgun.
