by Mark Gordon
Chapter 74
The Show Begins
Montana was woken from her fitful nap by the sound of the storeroom door being flung open.
“Get up,” ordered the shadowy figure. “The Doctor wants to see you. I’ll take you to the bathroom first.”
“Some doctor,” she thought cynically, as she scrambled to her feet and squeezed past the guard whose filthy, fat figure filled the doorframe.
There was nobody else in the corridors, marauder or otherwise, and she wondered if it had something to do with the 'entertainment' that Scarface had mentioned earlier. Her escort gave her a not-so-gentle push in the back, and then followed closely, giving one-word directions until they arrived at a door that read Female'.
“You got three minutes!” he snarled.
The bathroom comprised nothing more than a toilet, a hand basin and a single shower stall. The windows were barred, and Montana could tell by the dusky light penetrating the frosted glass, that the sun was getting low in the sky. She used the toilet, and then washed her face and hands in the basin. Running water? The school must have had rainwater tanks installed at some point in the past. She’d never considered where the school’s water came from while she was a student, but now she couldn’t stop thinking about things like that. As she looked in the mirror she realised that she’d aged since the event. Her face, while still beautiful, was harder now, and her eyes looked as if they were keeping some kind of dark secret. She didn't for a moment doubt that Scarface had chosen her for her desirability. She tried to think of a way out of this mess, but only disheartening questions sprung up in her mind, as she ran her hands through her hair. How could she ever hope to escape from this predicament? Were the boys safe? Would she ever see 'Two Hills' again? Were Gabby, Bonnie and Sally safe? There were no answers to these questions, she realised sadly, as a hard thump rattled the door, and she was brought back to the cold hard reality of her current predicament.
Back in the Principal’s office with Doctor Scarface (as she now thought of him), she listened to his crazy rationalisation of the upcoming show.
“You see, my dear, it’s not enough that I rule by fear and intellect - I have to give my followers something to keep them amused while our legion grows. I came up with the idea as I watched a stranded survivor being devoured by feeders outside the school fence one night. It was quite a spectacle; but, rather than being repulsed by the whole grotesque scene, my band of misfits actually enjoyed it, and the more the victim fought and screamed, the more they laughed and cheered. Then, after a few minutes, when the massacre was over, everybody seemed to be in a rather good mood.”
Montana stared at the monster before her and tried to imagine the horror of what had just been described. She was too stunned to comment, and Scarface seemed to interpret her silence as some kind of tacit approval, so he continued.
“Anyway, the next night everyone gathered behind the fence again, hoping to witness a repeat of the previous night’s entertainment, but nothing eventuated, and eventually everybody went back to their own diversions in a more subdued mood. That’s when I realised that waiting for random stragglers to stumble upon the school to be eaten by zombies was ridiculously optimistic and statistically unlikely.”
Montana stared at the lunatic opposite in dread, as she waited for him to utter the words she knew would be coming. He smiled crookedly through his leathery features.
“Yes, you’ve worked it out haven’t you? I decided to give these barbarians what they wanted. All I had to do was organise a hunting party and build up a supply of contestants. It really wasn’t very difficult.”
“You fucking freak! You have Matt and Dylan! You can’t do this!”
Suddenly the Doctor’s face showed pure hatred and contempt as he moved closer to Montana. “I can do this, and I will do this! We’re all living in a brave, new world now and only the strong and the smart will survive. The show will go ahead tonight, as usual, and you will be my guest. You will see that the old ways are irrelevant. Now, go and get some warm clothes on. It looks chilly out there, and I don’t want you catching a cold. Guard!”
-
Fifteen minutes later Montana was sitting in a makeshift grandstand in the teachers’ car park, waiting for the appearance of tonight’s victims. She had the best seat in the house next to Scarface, and around them marauders laughed and drank from bottles of beer or Jack Daniels. She was attracting many salacious stares from these brutes (and some jealous ones from the women), but nobody approached her directly. It was clear that there was absolute respect for The Doctor within the walls of this asylum, and that Montana was off limits to everyone except him.
The temperature was dropping rapidly as she peered to the west, where the sun was just beginning to dip beneath the trees. Outside the fence, a dozen large flares had been set up in two parallel rows about twenty metres apart on either side of the gates, their flames sending black plumes of smoke straight up into the darkening sky. Beside each gate stood four armed guards, and Montana knew that the stage was set and the show wasn’t far away. She had a sick feeling in her stomach when a lone figure emerged from behind the grandstands and walked towards the centre of the car park, and it took all of her willpower not to cry. The crowd screamed and cheered as the man, who was dressed in a long black jacket and a top hat, reached the centre of the car park, before turning to face them. He allowed the ovation to continue for a few seconds before holding both hands above his head. The horde became silent instantly.
“Ladies and gentleman!” bellowed the ringmaster. “The Doctor has organised some fun for you all tonight!"
Cheering.
"There will be blood spilt! Please show your appreciation.”
A deafening round of applause and cheers echoed around the improvised arena as The Doctor stood and bowed politely, with mock sincerity. As the applause died down, the ringmaster continued.
“The Doctor thanks you, ladies and gentleman. Now, it’s time to start the show!”
All heads turned to the left, as two more guards entered the arena dragging a long metal chain. Montana stood and tried to peer above the heads of the cheering mob, but could only catch fleeting glimpses of the two shackled figures that were being led into view, staring wildly about at the overwhelming scene before them. With a partially obscured view in the early evening gloom, it was impossible to tell if either of the figures was Matt or Dylan, but when the ringmaster raised his hands again and the crowd returned to their seats, Montana saw that tonight’s victims were to be a middle-aged man and a younger woman, who was now slumped on the grey asphalt, which was darkening beneath her, as a puddle of urine pooled where she sat. Montana’s heart ached for them and the torment they were about to endure, but also felt some perverse sense of relief that Matt and Dylan had received at least one day’s grace. Despite her revulsion at the scene before her, Montana forced herself to focus, and pay attention to her surroundings, hoping that she might spot some weakness in The Doctor’s organisation that might give her and the boys a chance to escape before tomorrow night. She examined the panorama around her as The Doctor placed his withered hand on her knee.
“Almost ready,” he purred into Montana’s ear, as the ringmaster held up his hands for silence once more.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Please give it up for Number Four and Number Five. Open the gates!”
As two of the guards swung open the big, double gates, six others raised their weapons and kept them trained on the growing shadows outside the fence, wary of early-bird feeders. Then the victims were grabbed by two more guards and dragged to the open gates, where one end of their chain was attached to the bottoms of the heavy gateposts.
Montana watched in horror as the man and woman fought against their captors, as the crowd laughed and roared their approval at their futile antics. Then, in an act of brutality that would haunt Montana for the rest of her life, the two victims were hauled outside the gates, and thrown onto the ground, before the gates were closed and locked behind th
em.
The crowd cheered for the man and woman, as they screamed and tried to pull the locked gates open, but when the ringmaster raised his hands once more crowd became silent, waiting for the next act in this violent and disturbing farce.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he roared, as the pleas for compassion continued outside the gates.
“The Doctor is a reasonable and compassionate man! Tonight’s contestants will not be sacrificed as lambs to the slaughter, will they?”
“No!” screamed the crowd, as one.
“Do you want to see a fair fight?”
“Yes!” they yelled.
“Bring the equalisers!” ordered the ringmaster, as two young, buxom women appeared from the right side of the stage to a standing ovation.
Each of the women carried a weapon, and when they reached the ringmaster they stood and held aloft an axe and a sledgehammer to the hearty approval of the baying crowd. The ringmaster took the axe first, and walked over to the gates, where the victims, still attached to their chains, were futilely trying to find a way back into the school. He swung the axe behind him and heaved it over the fence, where it landed between the two rows of flares. Immediately the man and the woman sprinted towards the weapon, dragging their chains. The man was faster and seized the axe, leaving the woman unarmed temporarily. The sledgehammer was hurled over the fence next, and the woman rushed to pick it up as the man watched on.
Montana studied the unfolding drama and tried to spot some weakness that she could exploit to help her and the boys escape, but it all seemed too hard. There were too many guards, weapons and marauders for three people to defeat. The two victims were now backed up hard against the fence with their weapons and were screaming, “Help us!” and “You can’t do this!” But the ruthless audience threw each of their pleas back at them in a high-pitched taunting cacophony.
Then, as if directed by a stage manager, the first feeder appeared out of the gloom. It came into view like a ghostly apparition, just beyond the light thrown by the flares, and stood for a few seconds studying the victims, who were now screaming in abject fear. The crowd roared their approval at the prospect of unrestrained violence and then, without any hesitation, the creature ran at the two victims, who raised their weapons above their head. Montana was horrified, and wanted to close her eyes, but something compelled her to watch as the nightmarish scene played out.
The feeder reached the couple and leapt at the woman who swung the sledgehammer wildly. The woman had underestimated the weight of the weapon, however, and her strike missed the creature. The feeder pounced on her with tremendous velocity, throwing the woman to the ground, where it began ripping chunks out of her neck, sending torrents of blood arcing through the firelight. The man had avoided the feeder’s initial attack, but now sensed an opportunity as the creature ripped the woman apart with its teeth and claws. As the crowd howled in excitement, he raised the axe and brought it down hard on the feeder’s skull, splitting it in two and killing it instantly. The crowd cheered as the man kicked the feeder’s body from the woman, who was writhing on the ground, unable to even scream, as blood flowed out of her like a flooding river. The man yelled to the guards, “Help her! Help her!” But the laughter from the crowd made it clear that the woman was going to die, writhing in pain as the marauders watched on. The man gazed blankly at the crowded grandstand, before returning his attention to the woman who was in her death throes at his feet.
He raised his axe, and in a rare moment of compassion, brought the weapon down on the woman’s head, as the crowd cheered, finding humour in the violence. Then, as the man turned away from the mutilated bodies at his feet, a swarm of feeders streamed from the darkness, as if drawn by the scent of blood and death. Montana could take no more, and closed her eyes as the feeders raced towards the man. Despite the fact that she could see nothing of the carnage, the reaction of the audience was enough to suggest that the man had taken out one or two of the feeders with his axe, before being overwhelmed and devoured. So while she sat next to The Doctor, trying to block out the sounds of bodies being ripped apart by hungry feeders, she realised that this was never intended to be a 'fair fight'. It was simply a brutal execution designed to appease the masses of marauders so that the Doctor could maintain power.
If she and the boys couldn’t find a way to escape this nightmare before the next 'contest', she knew that one or both of her friends would almost certainly die.
