Humphries squinted his eyes and peered into the arena below. “I have yet to see the master in brutal and true combat and I am ultimately curious,” Humphries squinted. “Given a Martian soldier’s combat predictability, he should make fine examples of the meatsacks below.” Speakeasy saw that Dill and Kimmy were worried.
“I was able to secure McKenna a gear sponsor should he make it past the first evolutions. I just hope it helps.”
“Master McKenna needs no help. Bare-chested and with his fists, he’ll pulverize,” Humphries smiled. Kimmy shook her head at the aggressive Combat Bot. Unlike the previous two events where honor or credit was all that was lost, McKenna was in a battle for his life.
Dill looked to see Kimmy staring below, biting her nail. He wondered if she was worried about the prize or McKenna. Perhaps both. Not that he could hold himself to any standard.
The roaring of the teams was never-ending. Screaming was continuous as dozens of fighters were being hacked apart, punched and beaten. Off in the distance, a man burst into flames as a Molotov cocktail shattered on his bare skin, setting him ablaze. Another man tried to run from a foe but was stopped dead in his tracks as another foe struck his abdomen with a heavy fire axe. The numerous uses of the crude weapons were barbaric, but the crowd only amplified with each killing stroke.
McKenna continued to walk the field at his own pace, seeing bodies on the floor increase in number as he drew closer to the battle ahead of him. What started out as dozens of fighters was as little as a fraction of that now. He picked up his speed, going from a walk to a jog. He saw fighters ahead of him preoccupied with smaller individual battles ahead. He then broke into a run, mere meters from fighters.
McKenna eyed a red team Martian just ahead in a brutal fist fight with one of the blue team members. McKenna charged and tackled him head on, sending them both into the dirt. They both picked themselves up quickly, kicking up the red sand from underneath them.
“I’m a gonna get ya!” the red team opponent said as he picked up a rusty and chipped meat cleaver from the ground. He crossed it against his own chest, making a clean cut and dripping blood as he smiled at McKenna with bulging eyes. He let out a high-pitched squeal as he began swiping at McKenna, but McKenna dodged with ease. He caught the attacker’s arm and smacked the cleaver out of his hand, then twisted it and snapped the wrist bone inwards. The man screamed and wailed. McKenna followed by spinning him around and delivering a powerful backfist to his head, sending him to the ground unconscious.
He looked around quickly to see two more members of red team already rushing him. They were both unarmed but covered in blood and red dirt; their fists looked like well-used meat tenderizers. McKenna quickly dodged the first and engaged the second, sending several strikes to his ribs and a final strike to his throat, crushing it. He fell to the ground making horrid coughs, eventually choking to death.
McKenna spun around to catch a wild kick with his forearms. He quickly threw the leg away, sending the attacker off his feet and landing on his head, stunning him. McKenna swooped down and delivered a strong jab at his face, knocking him unconscious. He heard the crowd amplify and they seemed to be in unison with his attacks.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we had a ringer in the mix!” Spunkmeyer’s voice filled the arena from above. “As you can see, the mighty Earth Military is too much for the savage Martians!”
McKenna sent another opponent slamming to the ground, red dust creating a small cloud beneath him. He then felt a sharp sting to his right arm. It was a bullet, but it just grazed him. He spun around to see the gunman readjusting his grip in hopes of a second shot but, suddenly, Titus appeared covered in blood, slamming his massive forearms down and striking the gunman’s arms, crushing them. The gunman screamed as his arms hung from their sockets. Titus sent a final punch to the face smashing it inward and killing him.
“Only a coward goes for the gun!” Titus laughed. He was a brute in every sense of the word with a height of over seven feet and a muscle mass to make any bodybuilder blush. He looked to McKenna who was still ready for anything. “Don't fuck it up for our team, little Martian!” Titus laughed almost hysterically as he thumped his way to another opponent. McKenna shrugged awkwardly until he heard another blood cry behind him.
McKenna turned to see another of red team sprinting straight at him. As he assumed his fighting stance, the attacker began sidestepping quickly in either direction to try and throw off his defense. He then sent several fast jabs at McKenna, although McKenna blocked them effortlessly. McKenna smiled as he realized the fighter had actually practiced a martial art. He knew it was sloppy and needed refining, but it was a welcome change of pace. McKenna deflected several more punches before catching an arm and slamming the attacker to the ground. Just as he did, the entire audience roared. He looked around to notice he had just defeated the last member of Red Team. Only he and a few others from his team remained. Suddenly, a blaring buzzer sounded from above.
“Is this what you've been waiting for, Red City?!” Spunkmeyer said. “What a start to the greatest sport on Earth! And we are with the best fighters left from Earth's mightiest, but we know this was also a war of intelligence! Espionage, spies all around! And they must be rooted from wherever they fester! Even your dearest of friends can be a shadowy spook! Kill him in The Fields!”
The buzzer sounded once more and each of the fighters looked to one another in brief confusion, but they soon gathered what the new game type was. McKenna saw the fighters rip off their blue armbands; he took the cue to do the same. It was a free for all now. Another fighter was already eyeballing him. He spun two mud-and-blood-soiled machetes around quickly and skillfully, his weapons of choice. McKenna worked his shoulder around and popped his neck.
“Place your bets now, my fellow degenerates. Which fighter will progress to the next evolution?! We have some ex-players left in this herd. The Bladesman, Titus the Wonder, Marion the Crane, and our new ringer! Choose wisely, there can be only one!” The buzzer blared once more and all four fighters charged into the fight.
Dill had his arms crossed, his left fist to his mouth in suspense as he watched McKenna weave and dodge his opponent’s blades. He knew he was good and looked to have made short work of the lesser contestants, but the time was coming when he'd have to show his teeth if he was to stop the treading mass, Titus. Dill looked over to Kimmy who found the fight to be just as nerve-racking to watch. They both knew that McKenna was still just a man of flesh and blood, no longer in his prime, and the slightest mistake could easily mean his death.
McKenna twisted his body, narrowly escaping the downward slice of the blade, the metal hissing as it cut the air. The second blade followed quickly, forcing McKenna to dive out of the way completely. As he rolled on landing, he scooped a fist of dirt and threw it at The Bladesman, causing him to grunt in frustration as he closed an eye and started laughing.
“Dirty move!” The Bladesman laughed. “I’m glad the rules call for only one victor! Me and Titus have seen this before, but you, I've never seen you down here. You've no right or chance to survive the greatest game. I'll love adding your blood to the soil!”
He lunged forward as McKenna dodged once again and then once more. McKenna tried to keep up with the blades as best he could as they started to flow like wind and water. He barely avoided a swipe to his ear as he heard the metal ringing through the air. His best wasn't enough, as he felt a slice into his abdomen, just enough to draw blood. McKenna spun backwards to escape the flurry of attacks.
“Ha-ha! Let's finish the filet, shall we?!” The Bladesman ran forward to a now aggravated McKenna, who glared at him with cold eyes. Time slowed for him as he saw the first upward slice come in. With perfect timing, he twisted to avoid the attack while he grabbed The Bladesman's wrist as he secured it from moving. The other swipe came from overhead and McKenna grabbed the other wrist even easier, now disabling both blades. McKenna crossed and pulled his attacker's arms in close and, with a sudden
use of force, snapped both wrists in their sockets, causing The Bladesman to scream as he tried to squirm in place, but McKenna controlled him now. He drove his forehead into him and then again and once more. The Bladesman was heavily stunned but still standing with limp wrists. McKenna grabbed the machetes and twirled them in hand as he took a step back, causing the spectating crowd to shout in mixed angers and cheers, seeing a beloved contestant succumb but also finding a fondness in the new ringer. He quickly delivered a spinning back-kick to The Bladesman's jaw, sending him skidding into the ground, unconscious. McKenna took some deep breaths as he recovered. He threw the blades in the dirt and grabbed the cut to his abs to see only a superficial amount of blood.
“Titus! Titus! Titus!” the crowd shouted. McKenna felt the slight thumps approaching behind him. Titus was finished with his opponents already. McKenna spun around to see a bulky and washboard abdomen staring at his face. He looked up to see Titus smiling from another foot above. McKenna had never felt so inferior.
“Well…” Titus chuckled. “It's the little man.” McKenna smiled nervously but he quickly dropped it and immediately got to work by sending several strikes at key pressure points on Titus, attacking arteries, joints, organs, knees, and finishing with a powerful straight punch into Titus's gut. His straight punch stopped like a fist meeting a lead wall. He looked up to see the brute still smiling. “That hurt. A little.” McKenna's heart rate elevated when he saw the smile from Titus.
Titus sent his forehead lightly into McKenna's, an audible smack.
McKenna stood tall for a moment after the blow but quickly felt the instant migraine and concussion, causing him to lose his footing and fall hard to the red dirt below. He scrambled backwards as Titus smacked his head several times as the blurred vision subsided. Titus raised his hands to rally the crowd and quickly received their support as the arena cheered his name.
“Well, if you bet for your favorite mass of muscle and sunshine Titus, ladies and gentlemen, you can almost smell your winnings, I'm guessing!”
McKenna looked to the ground for any weapon at all. He almost smiled when he felt an old revolver underneath him next to a fallen opponent. A closer look revealed to be Pence, the scared man from the undercroft, his throat sliced open and his eyes lifeless. McKenna quickly picked up the revolver and aimed down the sights of the rusty pistol, straight at Titus's head, but the brute threw his arm up at the last second. The bullet cracked the sound barrier as it pierced into Titus's dense muscle tissue, yet it hardly fazed him but rather infuriated him.
“Cowards and their guns!” Titus growled as he started into a run which shook the very ground. McKenna pulled the trigger again to only get a dissatisfying fizzle of the last cartridge inside. He threw the gun at the charging behemoth as he tried to pick himself up but felt the huge hand of the brute grab his neck and drag him on the dirt before holding him above his head. He grabbed Titus's arm to wrestle it off, but it was as if he was grabbing a tree trunk.
“The Legends of Mars,” Titus mocked. “The Martian Wolves. You are nothing but a toad!” He cocked his arm back and threw McKenna a dozen feet behind him as he skidded and rolled in the dirt. Titus walked up to The Bladesman who was writhing on the ground still. “You’re among the purest of killers, Martian, and you came here willingly?! To win, you'll have to kill me!”
Titus raised his boot and sent it crashing down on The Bladesman's head, crushing it like a watermelon, sending matter and blood flowing into the dirt while enticing the crowd even more. McKenna looked to either side of him to see the two machetes planted in the ground. He grabbed hold of them and sprang back up. Titus could see the anger in his eyes. “Yes, Martian!” Titus yelled. “Try to kill the mighty Titus, just as all before you have tried in vain!” The two slowly eased towards each other with each ready for any move. Titus swung his fist at McKenna's head, but it was a wrecking ball in slow motion and he easily dodged it, slicing Titus's arm as he did.
McKenna saw a gap in his foe's defense and quickly started slashing the main torso several times before backing away like a panther slowly swiping away at an elephant. Each time Titus attacked, McKenna was somewhere else attacking another ligament. The slashes were beginning to show on the body as Titus began trickling blood from dozens of cuts, enraging him.
“Be still, you little bug!” Titus shouted. McKenna stood in place as Titus sent his fist driving downwards, but he easily dodged it and quickly vaulted over Titus, rolling off of his back and safely behind him. McKenna thrusted the machetes behind him and into Titus's back. He pulled them out just as quickly and took a step back as he saw Titus grunt in pain, but he was still standing. He just wasn't doing enough damage and he needed to get the towering beast on the ground. Titus turned and, in a desperate charge, he tried to sweep McKenna away with his massive fists, roaring as he did so. McKenna ran forward and at the last moment, rolled out of the way, but slashing Titus's right Achilles tendon as he did so. The pressure on his foot caused the tendon to rip completely and in turn sent him falling forward, yelling in pain.
“You'll pay for that, Martian wolf!” To McKenna's shock, Titus picked himself up and limped his way to McKenna rather quickly. As the brute closed in, McKenna rolled out of the way and slashed the other tendon, disabling Titus completely. Fatigue and exhaustion set in as the huge man finally collapsed on his back, panting heavily.
“Red Fields, Red Fields! Kill him in The Fields!” The crowd wanted another kill. Another drop of blood in the sadistic game. McKenna held the blades in his hands as he slowly approached Titus who had accepted defeat.
“You'll have to kill me, Martian,” Titus said with a shallow breath. “If the crowd isn't on your side, they'll only cheer for your death. They'll throw everything at you here.”
“You kill for sport and satisfaction. It won’t be for the crowd. You deserve to die.”
“Kill for enjoyment? Now that's funny, coming from a Martian. But you are right about one thing. I do deserve death. Everybody who walks this field deserves it. You think you're here just to earn a few credits? A magic wish from Hasker? It's no coincidence you're among killers tonight. You belong in the field of battle, I can tell.”
“You don't know me. I don't take crowd with the freaks here.”
McKenna turned to walk away until he felt Titus grab his arm.
“Wait, McKenna!” Titus said, pulling McKenna close.
“The bounty on your head—”
“How do you—?”
“I failed, and in good sport, but know that there are others who still wish to collect. Not many left. They all know what you're capable of now. I'm sure the entire undercity knows now. Take a warning with you. They're waiting for you in the coming evolutions.” McKenna stood back up and twirled the machete in his hand. He looked down at Titus who had a look of acceptance about him; he had accepted his death. “Be swift and vigilant, Red Wolf.”
McKenna drove the blade downwards until he felt a hard thud. He let go of the blade, still wobbling as it shook next to Titus's head. Titus opened his eyes and saw the blade impaled in the dirt just next to his eyes with McKenna walking in the other direction.
“It looks like the ringer is making his own show for you, folks! I expected to see bitter bloodshed, but it looks as if our ringer has a soft spot!”
The crowd was heard with a mix of boos and cheers. Several of Hasker's men ran into the arena to collect the dead and wounded and dragged them off the field. McKenna saw a guard point an assault rifle at him, forcing him to stay in the arena until the evolutions were complete. Several guards carried Titus off who only began laughing as he was dragged.
“You're among killers, Martian! Remember that!” Titus yelled. Soon the field was cleared with only blood and gore left to stain the ground.
“What's this?” the announcer said. “It looks like we've gotten a little more info on our survivor. If anyone is following the Prime Point shootout, our survivor is currently leading Team Martian Greys with twelve points! However,
he must survive The Fields to sustain these points.” McKenna was relieved to hear the team was in the lead, but the fact that he was locked in for the duration of The Red Fields was disconcerting.
“And now a brief intermission as we look into our survivor, information courtesy of Hasker. Little birds eavesdropping say this man goes by the handle Demon. It looks as if our ringer is ex-Martian Military and get this, good people, a veteran of the Mars Solar War itself! I think we all recognized that peculiar fighting technique. The Martian before you will fit well in the final chapter of our reenactment!” McKenna tried his best to limber up as he felt all the bruises and cuts he had received. The arena was a lonely place now and he felt isolated in the middle of it.
“A long and terrible war it has been, people, but now we are on the final battle. The battle that will determine the sole victor of the War. We have the battered and bruised Martian Military against the broken and weary Earth Navy, both on the desolated mountain range on Titan's snowy cap. A desolate fortress as old as the Mars colony itself. This…”
Spunkmeyer looked around at the crowd, still hanging on the edge of their seats. He knew the next evolution was a first and sure to be spectacular. “This is the Battle of Cardinal Fortune!” McKenna's attention was rustled as he heard the battle's name. He couldn't help but find the situation ironic. “But this year we have a treat for the good people! A late addition to the lineup! Any true historian knows who the real victor was at that snowy fortress. It wasn't Mars, not Earth, no. Tonight, I give you the first ever match of its kind in the history of The Games.” The cheers already began to resonate. The thumping of feet in the bleachers became thunderous booms. Spunkmeyer pointed to the middle of the ring, grinning as he growled.
“This is Martian versus Auroran!”
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The Bloodlust: (Volume Three of the Virion Series) Page 17
