Kyle passed the mallet back to me and reached down for his club. He raised it above his head, playing to the crowd. It was hard not to be inspired. The commoners and Elites joined in a wild cheer at the destructive end.
Still, there were some in the crowd that were not carrying on. Once I had noticed it earlier, I couldn’t stop spotting them. Jarvis was one of them, and he was watching the battle waging under Gordon’s platform very closely.
Mr. Muscle lifted the creature above his head and threw it at a support beam. It shook ever so slightly. The Elites looked at each other pausing for a moment, and then laughed out loud. They saluted with their wine glasses and continued to watch the fight.
The woman was standing just outside of the fight zone. She was holding up her spear, making sure the creature didn’t get away from the immediate area.
Mr. Muscle managed to run the creature directly into the same beam. The zombie’s head clanged against it, and the spikes pulled chunks out of the wood itself.
The creature staggered then turned, and gave the woman a feral look. Losing grip of the beast, Mr. Muscle reached back after it as it darted towards her. She tripped sideways, losing grip of her spear, which clanged across the ground out of her reach. Leaping toward her, midair, the creature was coming down on her when she let out a scream that turned the crowd’s cheers silent. Just as its arms were falling through her hair, Kyle came smashing into it sideways, knocking it back across the floor. He rolled a few feet, interlocked with the deadly abomination, before he landed on top, pinning the creature down. It bucked, and arched its back to no avail as Kyle slammed his club across its face, knocking the razors into it the back of its helmet.
Killing was always easy for Kyle. He knew death well.
The woman picked up her spear and stepped towards Kyle extending a hand. He reached up, as she pulled him to his feet. They didn’t exchange words, but there was a moment shared between them that I couldn’t quite discern.
Gordon glared down at the five of us. Some of the wine from his cup splatted at my feet. I could see it on his face; he had grown livid of that fact that all five of us were still standing.
Chapter 26
The horde was fully upon us. There was no stopping it.
The crowd was behind us now. We just stood there listening to the deafening chant of:
“All five are still alive!”
Gordon took a sip from his newly refreshed wine mug before looking around at the eagerly awaiting audience.
“This has been a truly amazing feat, and one like no other that we’ve seen in this arena so far. This group of five have managed to remain alive, thus passing this week’s battle.”
I looked at Jarvis. He was staring directly at Mr. Muscle and the Asian, who were nodding. Whatever it was, I could tell something was getting ready to go down.
“I’d like to give the crowd a choice,” Gordon continued. “You, my dear Avalonians, will decide the fate of these five.” Gordon held both hands out at an even distance to his sides with his palm up, creating the illusion of a scale with his arms.
Lifting his left hand up, Gordon said,
“In one hand, we have two fights left. Two battles like this one. If these five continue along to the end, they earn their freedom and the honor of becoming an Elite citizen. We can stop the battle now, to see each of these gladiators come back next week for the second fight.” He lowered his left and raised his right one into the air.
“On the other hand, we could keep them here now, and give them a shot at being Elites tonight!”
The crowd stopped suddenly; dark whispers arose like wind blowing through trees.
“That’s right; we make this fight overwhelming, but not impossible. We finish this epic battle tonight, instead of waiting for next week. We give this group a shot at freedom now, not two battles from now. Their fate is in your hands, Avalonians!” he cried, equaling his hands.
Holding out his left hand again, Gordon looked out among the crowd, asking for the battle to commence the following week. Some claps and cheers echoed in the room, but the room remained, for the most part, quiet.
“Who wants to finish this tonight?” His voice was high with fervor. The cheers were so loud I didn’t hear them as much as I felt them shaking through my core.
Exaggerating every movement, Gordon raised his right hand up high and nodded for the troopers down on the floor to open the gate. It opened with a grating screech. What started as a trickle, turned into an uncountable stream of Zs that began to emerge from the darkness.
Kyle quickly shouted out directions to split us into three teams spreading out to separate sections of the fence. As the horde stumbled towards us, I looked to each member of our group. Eyes wide, beaten down and bloody, nobody moved a muscle. The crowd was silent, watching in anticipation, waiting to see our next move. We knew the score; there was no escape from this one. It would be a blood bath that left none of us alive.
Mr. Muscle pulled the mace across his body, bits of flesh falling from the rusted spikes, and moved closer to Kyle and me. With a rushed voice, filled with determination, he said,
“Help with this post, ese? You had the right idea. We’re going take the whole fucking thing down, like you said.”
Kyle and I exchanged glances, then nods. If he had an idea, we were in on it. As one, we raced up to the column and started to hack at it with our weapons. Mr. Muscle, the Asian and the woman had a good start to their plan. They had already weakened the post leading up to Gordon and Chauffer, and between the sword, mace and mallet, it was only a matter of time before we crippled it.
Gordon didn’t have time to react; fortunately, the Zs took too long to reach us. Just as he was screaming for one of the guards to shoot us, the beam collapsed, and so with it the fence and the floor beneath him. I kept one eye on the zombies and one eye on Gordon, as three chairs, along with multiple Elite citizens slid down into the arena in front of us. Mr. Muscle cupped his hand, and the Asian used it to bound up to the top balcony. Sword drawn, he started to hack and slash anything moving. Trying to flee the mayhem, many of the Elites leapt down into the arena, only to realize that they had jumped into certain death as the zombie horde approached them. When faced with death, people will do anything to escape.
Kyle was busy hoisting up the woman over the fence when I realized that the group of the commoners, quiet and disengaged in watching the earlier battle, were now attacking the Elites. Even though the troopers tried to surround and defend them, the commoners simply overwhelmed them in numbers. They overran the guards, pulling them apart more savagely than any of the zombies behind us ever would have. There was pure anger in their eyes as they ripped the Elites’ togas off, beating them to death with their own wine mugs.
Mr. Muscle leaned down, and grabbed the broken post. Lifting with his legs, he bellowed standing straight up to dump the platform that Chauffer and Gordon were standing on backwards. They slid helplessly into the crowd. I watched them tumble just as the fence tore completely free. Hearing gunshots, I instinctively ducked my head only to realize it was not man shooting zombie, it was man shooting man.
Some of the Zs from the horde had fought their way to us. Kyle was batting them back with his club. I screamed to run through the downed fence. He looked back at Mr. Muscle, who had recovered, and was sprinting towards us.
We watched helplessly as four of the creatures caught up to him. He swung his thick arms, knocking them back, but not before one of them bit down on his calf. Mr. Muscle let out a startled cry as the creature tore backwards with a mouthful of his flesh. Spinning around, he swung the mace three very succinct times. The first smashed the Zs face that had bitten him. The second came down on his leg just above the bite mark. I could hear the bone snap like a dry tree branch. The third hit did the job and tore through his leg, severing it from his thigh.
Kyle darted back towards him, knocking away the oncoming Zs. Mr. Muscle, without a sound or scream of pain, pushed up with his giant arms and pulled
himself towards the opening in the fence, leaving his foot and a trail of blood across the floor.
The horde was fully upon us. There was no stopping it. They poured around Kyle, and began exiting the Arena through the broken fence. Kyle, who was standing above the broken man below him, twisted his arm back and brought it sideways, knocking two of the creatures down to the floor. Extending a hand down to Mr. Muscle, he winced back and stopped in his tracks. The distinct red eyes had set in.
Kyle turned, stepping away from the creature crawling towards him and pulled his club back up to his shoulder. Surrounded by the Zs, he was clearly outnumbered, but not going down without a fight. He would soon fall, like so many others before him.
This world had gone to shit. Humanity went straight with it. However, I still wasn’t willing throw in the towel just yet, and there was no way I was giving up on Kyle.
Diving into the mix, I drilled my shoulder into a creature clambering on Kyle’s arm. Moving into position, we both went berserk, back to back, swinging at anything that moved, and in some cases, things that were not. My eyes and face were blood soaked from the gore that we had created. I hit a point where I couldn’t see a thing. I could feel Kyle to my back. Our grunts of exertion could hardly be heard over the moans from the surrounding creatures.
This was it. This was the end. I thought that despite everything, I was at least going down fighting alongside my friend. Just when I started to panic, knowing that we would be taken down and turned into those foul, wretched creatures, we heard gunshots. Red and pink mist shot up all around us. Only when they had all dropped to the ground and the gunshots had stopped, did I realize I was screaming. Through my muffled cries, I heard someone calling to us.
“This way! Come this way!”
I wiped my eyes clear with my filthy sleeve, and squinted through the mayhem. It was Jarvis standing by the broken fence with an extended hand. He had a small group of armed commoner’s with him, lighting up the Zs around us with automatic weapons. Contraband I thought, weapons that had been pulled from the dead fingers of fallen troopers. Kyle grabbed at my arm, and we pulled each other towards the gaping hole in the chain link fence.
Standing behind the line of gunmen, free of the zombies, Kyle and I gasped for much needed oxygen. The place was indeed coming down around us. I could see a woman, her breasts fully exposed, holding a machine gun. She was aiming up at the balcony, taking out anybody in a white toga. The place was on fire with destruction. The Elites created very visible targets as they tried to escape.
There were dozens of Troopers who had been killed. They had gotten back up and were chasing down the Commoners and the Elites alike. In the end, everybody was equal in the eyes of the dead.
Jarvis stepped back behind the line while his gunners were mowing down the approaching creatures.
“Told you, boys, if you survived the fight, there would be opportunity. No time to explain now.” He lifted his gun between Kyle and me and pulled the trigger. I spun around to see one of the Elite, in a blood drenched toga, just as the bullet tore through his throbbing red eye.
“Just know you helped us with a huge distraction. The Arena is the only time the commoners and the Elites ever come together. We have you to thank for giving your fellow gladiators the time to take the place apart.”
Kyle and I stood there with our mouths hanging open, stunned. This rebellion was planned. This is what their quiet, secretive nods and sideways glances were all about.
Looking back on the whole thing, it was only a matter of time. How could Gordon expect to continue along the way this group had been without them staging a revolt? Unbeknownst to us, we had simply helped them do it.
“You boys have been all the help you can be. We’ve got it from here.” He shot us a half-cocked, approving smile before turning turned back to join the fight.
Kyle and I carried each other to the back of the room. My shoulder was still pouring blood, and Kyle’s shirt was split open from a gash running down the length of his chest.
We were alive. That was what mattered, and at the moment, we intended to stay that way. Avalon was far from secure. Now, we needed to get the hell out of there.
Chapter 27
In this world, some people simply don’t deserve to be helped.
A sea of death flooded the great hall. Between us and the door that led to the communication room, Zs, troopers, togas and the rebels littered the floor. Gunshots echoed through the arena, muting the screams and moans from both the alive and the dead.
Kyle reached down and pulled a machine gun from the grip of a fallen trooper, who had thankfully been struck down by a blow to his head. I watched as he ejected the cartridge, checked how many bullets remained, reloaded, and then raised the weapon. Two Zs, dressed in commoner clothing, violently jerked backward as he squeezed the trigger, placing precisely aimed shots through their foreheads, dropping them to the gore covered ground a mere feet from the two of us.
We started to push our way through the insanity, trading the blood of Zs for every inch of floor. Methodically navigating across the hall, we sidestepped past the crippled remains of creatures unable to stand, reaching up with their mangled grips to snap at the flesh of our legs. The wooden mallet was still firmly in my grasp, providing the security needed to keep going.
Just as I reached the door, I looked back at the chaos. I could see a group of the commoners lift Gordon up above their heads. Aside from his inaudible screams, it looked as if he was crowd surfing as they paraded him through the hall. Even from the distance, I could see the inexplicable look of “I’m fucked” across his face. The troopers were all dead or had escaped the melee. We had no idea what the commoners were going to do with him, and sure as hell weren’t going to stick around to find out.
Kyle and I jumped through the door, and raced down the hallway. There were a few of the dead lingering between the Comms room and us. We didn’t pause, knocking them across their skulls, dropping the zombies with the ease of hitting a whiffle ball off a child’s baseball tee.
The light in the hallway was out. There was a body lying on the tile, and blood had splattered across one of the LED clocks. With each rhythmic blip of the clock, the hall glowed pale pink. The door to the room was wide open. Kyle motioned for me to stop as he eased to the doorway. Taking a moment to listen, he glanced back and with the jerk of his head, motioned for me to enter.
Turning back towards the heavy door, I was able to quietly shut and lock it securely. We did a quick sweep of the room, looking behind all of the equipment, which appeared to have been installed in the seventies, to make sure we were alone.
There were giant box computers with big rolls of cinema-like film hanging from them. Red and blue lights flickered in the darkness, reminding me of the old science fiction movies that I’d seen with my father as a kid.
There was a glass window facing the hallway. While we could see anything that passed, we were also fully exposed to any prying eyes from out there. Despite it being locked, Kyle stood by the door with his club in one hand and his machine gun in the other.
I set the mallet down on a metal table next to a bunch of old keyboards and small computer screens blinking in green text. The pit of my stomach dropped when I realized I was putting way too much stock in this equipment made before I was even born. Reaching down for the telephone receiver sitting next to the mallet, I held my breath as I lifted it to my ear in eager anticipation of a dial tone.
I exhaled as I realized the phone was operational, glancing at Kyle in exhilaration. The dial tone was soon replaced with small beeps, as I keyed in the phone number to the gas station that Jenn had called me from.
The phone rang ten times before I gave up. It was worth a try. Switching gears, I dialed my home number. The phone rang twice before the voicemail started.
“John, it’s Wednesday, I think. Joe and I have been coming down to the gas station each day so I can change the VM. I keep hoping that you’ll call just as I walk in. I’m so worried about you
. I hope you get this message. The cabin is boarded up, we have food and we’re doing okay. The baby is kicking. I had a scare yesterday, and thought I was having contractions. I think it was just false labor. What do you call them? Braxton Hicks? The baby seems to have calmed down. I think it wants to wait for its Daddy to get here.”
There was an almost inaudible crash in the background.
“Joe, what did you say?”
She paused for a moment. I could hear a muffled Joe talking in the background. A bead of sweat ran down my cheek as I listened trying to make out every word.
“John, I have to go! Joe can see a few of those things down in the field. He doesn’t think they’ve seen us. Get here soon, we’ll be at the Cabin!”
I sat there looking at the green blinking cursor on the old computer monitor for what must have been an awkwardly long time. Kyle finally asked, “What? What is it? Come on man, snap out of it!”
“What day is it?” My voice was small.
“I think it’s Friday or Saturday.”
My eyes went back to the blinking green cursor. The hair on the back of my neck and arms tingled. My thoughts raced as I replayed her message in my head.
“We have to get there now! Her last message was from Wednesday, and she said that she’s leaving daily messages.”
Kyle’s face told me he understood. He started to say something about getting back up to the Hummer as I stood and lifted the mallet off the table. As I started to step around the equipment, I saw a movement through the plate glass leading to the hallway. Ducking down, my brain was trying to piece together what it was. It was only visible for a moment in the blinking red glow from the clock. Kyle had lifted his club in the air at my reaction, his ears trained on the tiniest of noise.
900 Miles: A Zombie Novel Page 18
