Remmy stood at one end of the arena, an axe loosely held in one hand. Dented, abandoned cars were scattered throughout the ring, stained with both blood and rust. Across the arena, Remmy could see Tam, his shoulders heaving and an axe clenched in one of his hammy fists. Remmy hoped that what Jessica told him was true.
“Tam, you have chosen to challenge this boy, Remmy,” Hatch boomed over the arena. All other Reds sat silent as Hatch spoke. “You seek revenge for the injury dealt to you by Remmy during the raid. That is your right. Those are the rules.”
“Damn right, they are!” Tam screamed, his eyes wide and swimming with insanity.
Hatch glared at Tam, obviously angered by his interruption. Remmy could almost see the hatred that existed between the two. “The rules also state that in challenging another, you have put your position at risk. Should this boy win, he will take your place and all that goes along with it.”
“I know the damn rules, Hatch!” Tam sneered.
“Then you must also be aware of the fact that should you lose, you will be eaten,” Hatch smiled, her pointed teeth shining in the dying rays of a setting sun.
“That’s never been a rule,” Tam growled, “what are you talking about?”
“You saw fit to challenge this boy in the arena,” Hatch grinned. “Death in the arena means food on the plate. That is also a rule, Tam. You knew that.”
“That’s a rule for humans, not Reds!” Tam shouted. “No Red has ever been eaten for losing a challenge.”
“Challenges aren’t usually fought in the arena either,” Hatch glared, “but that was your choice, Tam, so the rules state that the loser will be food. Whoever dies, or can no longer fight, will be made ready for the table.”
“Whatever,” Tam snapped, “I’m not going to lose!” He swung the axe in front of him imagining its blade peeling Remmy’s flesh.
“Remmy,” Hatch shouted, “win and Tam’s position and property are yours.” Hatch motioned towards Jessica who sat beside her. “Fight well.” Hatch waved her hand before settling back into her chair.
Before Remmy had completely turned his head, Tam was already halfway across the arena. Nothing stood between him and Tam aside from the rusted shell of a small car, half buried in the hard packed dirt.
“Time to die!” Tam screamed as he launched himself from the top of the wrecked car. The rusted roof buckled under his weight and force.
Remmy waited, as if frozen in place by fear, as Tam rocketed towards him like a missile. Tam pulled back his axe, preparing to bury it in the center of Remmy’s skull.
The surrounding Reds screamed with excitement and jeers. They wanted blood, more importantly they wanted food, but not before a show. Was the boy really just going to give up and choose to die quickly? Hatch and Jessica remained silent, watching with interests that were fanned by the flames of wants far deeper than those of the other Reds. They needed Tam to die. If he won there was no stopping him and he’d come for Hatch next. Hatch didn’t fear a fight with Tam, but knew the cost of winning would most likely leave her open for another challenger to claim victory. No, this way was smarter and safer.
Moments, before Tam brought his axe down, Remmy shifted his weight and shot out to the left. Tam continued forward, as if completely unaware of Remmy’s movement. The blade of Tam’s axe thunked loudly as it chewed into the hard ground where Remmy had only seconds ago stood.
Tam grunted loudly and bared his teeth as he wrenched the axe from the ground. In spite of the danger, Remmy smiled. Jessica had told him the truth.
Earlier, while Remmy waited for what he was sure would be his death, he had begun to wonder why Hatch would allow him a rest. Why hold off on the inevitable? Remmy figured that it had something to do with ‘the rules’ or simply a dramatic pause to heighten the Reds’ enjoyment of the spectacle. But Jessica told Remmy of Hatch’s true motivation. It had little to do with entertainment or rules.
Years ago, while Tam was going through the first phase of the infection and still mad, he rushed a small squad of ERC soldiers. Somehow, Tam managed to tear apart the soldiers with nothing more than his bare hands and teeth, but not before a soldier detonated a flash grenade beside Tam’s face. The resulting blast had nearly blinded Tam in his left eye and rendered it almost useless in the dusky hours bridging night and day.
Hatch delayed the arena battle under the pretense of giving Remmy a rest, but what she really wanted was Tam with no depth perception and only one good eye. Staying on the left was Remmy’s only chance of survival. But blind eye or not, Tam was still deadly.
The head of Tam’s axe sailed past Remmy’s face, the shrill whistle of the blade filling his ears as it sliced through the air. Avoiding the attacks was not going to be enough. Eventually, Tam would get lucky or Remmy would get tired. Remmy was going to have to fight, but he couldn’t allow himself to become enraged. He couldn’t allow the virus in.
The next attack went wide. Remmy figured that Tam’s bad eye must be struggling with the dying light and murky depths created in the between hours of day and night. If he had any chance of winning, this was it.
As Tam closed in for another attack, Remmy backpedaled towards one of the wrecked cars. Timing was everything. A moment’s hesitation would mean a slow painful death. He placed his back against its rusted skeleton and waited for Tam’s swing.
Remmy ducked and rolled away from the attack, smiling slightly as he heard the screech of metal against metal. Tam had succeeded only in getting his axe stuck.
“I don’t need that thing,” Tam snarled as he gnashed his rows of pointed teeth and left the axe buried in the roof of the car. “This way will be much more fun!” He lunged forward, his pointed teeth bared and ready to tear flesh, but Tam’s movements were clumsy and telegraphed, the product of arrogance and an underestimation of his challenger. Remmy again dropped to the left, avoiding Tam, but not before bringing the flat head of the axe crashing against Tam’s knee. A sickening crunch filled the arena, but Tam remained standing, balancing on his one good leg. The leg Remmy smashed dangled, hanging at an unnatural angle and completely useless from the knee down.
“This isn’t over!” Tam screeched, his words an equal mix of agony and rage. His knee was broken, the leg useless, but Tam refused to give in.
“We’re done! You can’t fight anymore!” Remmy growled, his shoulders heaving. He could feel anger spreading through his body, its toxic tendrils twisting through his innards and soul. Remmy’s vision began to narrow to a pinpoint that showed nothing besides Tam. Red radiated like a bloody aura on the edges of his vision.
CORA! Remmy screamed in his own head. Remember Cora! Thoughts of Cora flooded Remmy’s mind, leaving no place for anger and rage to take root. He had to hold on for her, he needed to see her again. She was worth fighting for, but not in the way that Jessica and the Reds wanted him to fight. Remmy refused to allow anger to overwhelm him. He slowed his breathing – in through his nose, out through his mouth. Again and again. Steady and slow. Deep breaths, thoughts of the fields, blue skies and the warmth of the sun began to force the anger from Remmy’s body. There was still too much to live for, too much to enjoy. The electric sensation that Remmy felt when his lips touched Cora’s shot through his body – the memory and feeling, one in the same.
“I’m done,” Remmy announced to the crowd, the axe hanging at his side.
“Finish it!” Hatch demanded from the side of the arena. “The rules must be followed!”
“He can’t fight anymore,” Remmy shouted back. “He can barely stand! The fight’s over.”
“It has to end!” Hatch snapped. “It will end! You had better decide how it does, right now!”
A low growl rumbled behind Remmy’s back.
“Remmy! Look out!” Jessica screamed. Hatch spun, slapping Jessica and knocking her out of her chair.
“Be silent!” Hatch hissed, but Jessica’s eyes were fixed on the center of the arena.
Remmy turned in time to see Tam launch himself forward o
ff his one good leg. He still had enough strength in that one leg to propel himself across the distance between him and Remmy.
The axe moved of its own volition. There would never be a memory of making the decision to swing the weapon. It simply moved. Remmy’s reflexes took over, swinging the flat, hammer-like edge towards Tam’s face. Tam, with no weapon of his own, led the attack with his teeth.
Tam’s teeth were vicious, strong and dangerous, capable of shredding flesh and crushing bones, but they were no match for hardened steel. White, fragmented bits, tinged in red burst from the sides of Tam’s mouth. His eyes went wide with shock and pain. A spray of blood followed as Remmy’s swing drove deeper into Tam’s mouth. The back corners of Tam’s lips tore in jagged lines, giving him a permanent, crooked smile that spoke of nothing humorous. Remmy pulled the axe free. Tam collapsed to the ground. A disgusting gurgling mew rattled in Tam’s throat as he choked on his own blood and teeth. Tam’s teeth would eventually grow back, but his lower jaw hung unhinged and at a sickening angle. The fight was over.
“Well done!” Hatch applauded. “Now do what is right and kill him. The rules demand it!”
“No,” Remmy said firmly. The bloodied axe fell to the ground. “I did what I had to survive, but I won’t kill Tam. I won’t become one of you. I don’t care about your stupid, made up rules!”
“Do you hear that? The food doesn’t want to fight anymore. It doesn’t want to follow the rules,” Hatch grinned. She had already gotten what she wanted. Tam was done, as good as dead and no longer a threat to her position. If Remmy no longer wanted to play nicely, well then, he could most assuredly serve another purpose.
The other Reds rose from their positions on the edges of the arena.
“If the food doesn’t want to follow the rules,” Hatch continued, “then you don’t have to either, my friends. Dinner will have two courses tonight! Eat and be full!”
Hatch’s words sent a jolt of electricity through the arena. The other Reds were on their feet, teeth bared and mouths open. Remmy watched as they dropped over the sides of the rusted school buses. He had beaten Tam, but was going to die anyway.
“Shuupid,” Tam gurgled from the ground. He turned his head and vomited blood and teeth into the dirt. “Shuupid youman.” A sickening laugh gurgled deep within Tam’s throat, small red bubbles foaming from his broken mouth.
Hatch smiled, the situation was playing out better than she had expected. Not only was Tam out of the way, she also was feeding her people. As soon as the other Reds arrived, word of Hatch’s actions would spread like wild fire and her position would be secure. The Reds would be united under her leadership and rule.
The satisfaction that Hatch felt left her blind to the fact that Jessica slowly crept up behind her. Hatch had been good to Jessica, had kept her safe from Tam, but Tam was gone now. It was a shame about Remmy though, he would have made a good Red, but some things just couldn’t be helped.
What could be helped was Jessica’s position and status. Hatch barely had time to utter a syllable of surprise before Jessica’s jaws closed around the sides of her neck. With one strong pull, Jessica tore free a large, wet chunk of Hatch’s neck. Hatch’s words burbled and frothed in foamy red bubbles as Jessica chewed slowly, a toothy smile of deep satisfaction stretched across her young blood-spattered face.
Hatch stumbled across the roof of the bus. Jessica lunged forward and pulled Hatch’s sword free from its scabbard. With one swift swing, Jessica freed Hatch’s head from her body.
Blood streamed over the sides of the bus. Hatch’s body lay tangled at Jessica’s feet, bleeding and motionless. Jessica glared at the other Reds.
“Stop!” she screamed. “Stop right now!”
The Reds hesitated, stumbled a few steps forward. They were prepared for a feeding frenzy, ready to shred this human boy and the weakling, Tam. Those were the rules, but something in Jessica’s voice made them stop. Slowly, all eyes turned towards the girl, her neck and face slick with the blood of their former leader.
“Hatch is dead!” Jessica boomed. “I’ve killed her. You’ll all listen to me or die.” Jessica pointed towards the Reds with the sword, Hatch’s blood still dripping from the blade.
Some of the Reds mumbled dissent, but the look in Jessica’s eyes silenced them. She looked feral and dangerous, even more so than the other Reds, even more so than Hatch. She had claimed her spot. Those were the rules. That was her right.
“Remmy lives,” Jessica paused, “for now.”
Remmy felt hands, filthy and calloused, close around his neck and arms. The Reds began dragging Remmy out of the arena, no doubt to put him back in that dingy rundown shack that had become his prison. The urge to fight swelled in Remmy’s chest, but he fought it down and that was what the Reds wanted, what Jessica wanted.
As Remmy was pushed out of the arena, he wondered what lay ahead for him. Was this where his life would end or was he destined to keep fighting until he eventually gave in and became a Red or died? Both options seemed horrible. All Remmy wanted was to return to the peace of his fields, his waterfall…his Cora. Remmy’s heart ached for Cora. Was their first kiss really destined to be their last? That seemed so unfair, so cruel. Why had fate bothered letting Remmy know what it was like to care about Cora and to have her care about him if he was never really going to be able to keep her?
A deep sigh escaped from Remmy’s lips. He tilted his head up towards the darkening sky to watch the misty plume of his breath rise up into the air. At least some part of him was free to escape.
The sky seemed endless, so dark and expansive like an entire sea made of ink. Sadness pressed down upon Remmy. He imagined the endless darkness of the sky seeping into him, smudging his soul.
Looking up to release another breath, Remmy’s eyes settled on a brilliant red star. How had he never noticed it before? Especially when it shone brighter than any other star or planet. The star appeared to expand, filling more of the sky and growing larger and larger.
The ground trembled ever so slightly under Remmy’s feet as he was pushed back into the shed.
“What’s going on?” Remmy demanded. None of the Reds answered, they were too busy staring at the sky, which was oddly enough becoming lighter instead of darker.
A blinding ruby red flash cut through the night sky. A pillar of light, no wider than a dinner plate, appeared in the center of the arena. The luminous column rapidly expanded, filling more and more of the arena. A few Reds slowly crept towards the light, unsure of what they were seeing. Most began to run.
Remmy stared for what could have only been seconds, but felt like hours, before he was thrown backwards into the shack by the blast that incinerated the arena. The buses forming the ring of the arena wilted under the intense heat of the flash, crumbling into twisted remains that no longer resembled what they once were. Outlines of Reds spiraled through the air. The bodies careened through the empty space surrounding the arena before crashing to the ground like meteors of charred meat and bone.
Outside the shack, Remmy heard the pounding of terrified footsteps and shouts. Large red spots swam through his vision, making it almost impossible to see. All the sounds were muffled, as if Remmy’s head was packed in cotton, but somewhere in the insanity that swirled around him, Remmy was sure that he could hear someone calling his name.
-45-
The failed rescue had been embarrassing to say the least. An entire broadcast based upon fear and hatred for an enemy that wasn’t there culminating with a dozen cows staring stupidly into the camera. Citizens expected death and victory. What had been delivered to them was a field full of cows.
Eldritch would have been furious if his Em-Pak allowed it, but he nonetheless found himself dissatisfied with the situation. Sure, Ortiz had swept two Emo camps before returning to the city and those successful campaigns were broadcast, but Eldritch could feel the questions of doubt quietly eroding the foundation of his power. It was simple logic. When a leader appears weak, contenders for the thro
ne will emerge.
Eldritch’s fingers tentatively touched the keyboard. He could easily ensure that no one ever questioned him again, could ensure that no citizen ever did anything that he would find unacceptable, but there were certain drawbacks to increasing everyone’s Em-Pak signal, drawbacks that made Eldritch hesitate and decide not to.
An entire population of citizens like Ortiz and his men would be easy to control, but Eldritch imagined all of them standing in the middle of the roads or blankly staring at the walls of cubicles. They would be no better than the cows. The signal increase would create a loyal population, but one that would need to be babysat and directed at almost every turn. But even this was not why Eldritch paused.
What really kept him from punching the keys required to subjugate all citizens was the challenge, the thrill of victory. With no emotions, all that remained to give Eldritch any sense of accomplishment was intelligence and victory. He would outsmart the citizens and maintain his control without the use of increased Em-Pak signals, because that would make his success that much sweeter.
Still, thoughts of all those doughy-eyed cows haunted Eldritch. Was there some remnant of concern for his family, some long since forgotten shard of love that festered and nagged at the back of his mind?
No, Eldritch thought, that wasn’t why he perseverated upon the failed rescue mission. His family was a political prop and could continue to be so, alive or dead. What plagued him like a cut on the roof of his mouth that he couldn’t stop opening and reopening with his tongue, was the fact that someone had outsmarted him. Who would have the know-how and intelligence required to reroute an ERC emergency signal? That required an understanding of the technology and access to it that was well beyond anything they had ever seen from an Emo and certainly not a Red. Then who? Who understood the working of ERC satellites and radio transmissions?
Love Bug Page 16
