by Rohan Healy
The three of them remained silent as they entered the stadium alongside hundreds of eager spectators, before splitting from the crowd suddenly and proceeding down one of the narrower tunnels. Miles remained on edge, preparing himself for the inevitable chaos that was soon to ensue, once gain checking his weapon.
“Stay close,” Mesa reminded the other two as they wandered deeper into the stadium. Before long, they turned a corner to see two guards dressed in black body armour, carrying intimidating assault rifles and blocking one of the paths of a three way intersection.
“You guys ready for this?” asked Mesa quietly, Miles and Maxen both looked at each other briefly before nodding.
“Let's do it,” Maxen said, preparing his arm for combat, emitting that signature whirring, signifying that the attack was ready to commence.
“Hey!” said one of the guards, raising his hand as the three approached, “you know you're not supposed to be back here, miss.”
“Oh, I know,” replied Mesa, and without warning, she thrust the long blade of her knife into the man's neck, the other guard raised his weapon to fire but was quickly knocked back by a powerful kick to the groin, Mesa removed her knife from the neck of the gurgling first guard and plunged it through the second man's armour and into his heart. His eyes bulged as blood poured from the wound and dribbled from his mouth.
“C'mon, let's move!” she said, quickly making her way down the previously blocked tunnel as Miles and Maxen followed. ‘Holy shit!’ thought Miles as he stepped over the two blood soaked bodies slumped pathetically in the tunnel, he was still not accustomed to such brutality. Loud footsteps resounded from all directions as the three intruders quickly approached the next intersection.
“Watch our asses!” commanded Mesa and the other two obliged, turning to cover their six o’clock. The footsteps drew closer and before long, two more guards approached from behind, rifles raised. Before they had time to shoot, Maxen took aim and launched a projectile in their direction, making contact with one of the guards, and coating the walls of the tunnel in thick, red blood before slamming into the curved, concrete wall. Miles lifted his revolver and fired two shots at the remaining guard, the first missing the target by about an inch, the second, a well-placed headshot, instantly killing the unfortunate fellow. ‘Fuck, what the hell am I doing?’ thought Miles as he took another life but there was no time for moral discourse, not now. Mesa reached the next turn, poking her head around the corner before quickly pulling it back as a flurry of assault rifle bullets struck the wall behind her. She pulled a blue grenade from her belt and tossed it around the corner, waiting for the loud *BANG* before rushing out to fight the enemy head on. Miles peered down the hall at Mesa who was swiftly annihilating a squad of five blind and bewildered guards with her trusty combat knife, slicing through the men, one by one, in a single fluid motion. After she dealt with the last of the guards, Miles and Maxen followed her down the next hallway, for about twenty meters or so, which lead into a larger area.
“We're close, stay focused!” Mesa called out, reaching the end of the tunnel and waiting for the others to catch up, “the elevator's right there, stay on me,” she said, pointing towards a large silver door in the next room. They cautiously stepped out into the wide area which connected to two other tunnels and noticing that there were no guards nearby, Mesa rushed over to the elevator.
“Shit!” Mesa exclaimed as she examined the digital button panel.
“What's up?” asked Maxen, keeping an eye on the hallways.
“They've locked the fuckin' controls! I can hack this thing but it could take some time, just watch the tunnels!” Miles took position at one of the entrances and Maxen covered the other two as Mesa pulled out a small electronic device from her pocket and plugged it into the elevator panel. It wasn't long before more reinforcements showed up, first on Maxen's end. Miles could hear shots being fired behind him but he didn't take his eyes off the tunnel he was guarding. The pained screams of arena guards told him that Maxen had everything under control at his end. Soon enough a squad of three heavily armed men came into Miles' view, he took a shot, hitting and injuring one of the guards and causing the others to scramble for cover back around the corner. Miles stood beside the tunnel entrance terrified, as bullets sprayed out from the hallway, he took a deep breath and returned fire, also failing to hit his target. As he struggled with the guards on his side, Miles could hear a cacophony of vicious growls and roars from behind. He turned briefly to see Maxen now taking on an assortment of wild creatures as they charged down one of the tunnels, 'Shit, they've let the animals out too?!'
“Got it, come on!” Mesa yelled over the loud gunfire and bestial howls as the elevator doors slid open. Maxen started to back up, firing off one final energy projectile at a formidable, oversized tiger, tearing it in half, while Miles shot a further two rounds down the hallway before joining the others in the elevator. Mesa slammed her palm on the controls and the doors began to slowly close as several more guards swarmed the room, firing relentlessly at the closing elevator.
“Fuck!” Miles quickly turned to Mesa who was now bleeding heavily from her left shoulder, one of the many assault rifle bullets had made its way through the narrow gap of the closing doors
“Shit! Are you alright?!” Miles asked panicking.
“I'm fine!” Mesa said, shrugging off Miles’ assistance as the elevator began to rise. She used her knife to cut a strip of black denim from the bottom of her jeans and wrapped it tightly around the wound to stop the bleeding.
“Stay low,” she advised keeping a close eye on the digital display showing where the elevator was currently located. She hovered one hand over the large, red emergency brake button and took another grenade from her belt with the other. She waited until only the top half of the elevator had reached the upper floor before manually bringing it to a halt and opening the doors with the help of Maxen’s considerable strength. Mesa pulled the pin from the grenade with her teeth and tossed it through the opening as the three of them ducked behind the top of the elevator shaft, avoiding the heavy spray of bullets from the waiting guards. After three seconds and an eruption of panicked screams and shouts, the grenade exploded with a deafening *BOOM* sending small pieces of debris into the elevator and bringing the shooting to a sudden and complete stop. Mesa quickly scrambled out of the elevator, followed by Miles and Maxen. Taggart Ransom's private quarters, looking much like an expensive hotel room covered in sumptuous red carpet with red velvet furniture and trimmings complete with bar, billiard table and a giant window overlooking the arena pit below, were now heavily burned and scattered with the dismembered remains of several of Taggart’s private guards. Mesa briefly searched the area for Taggart before rushing to an open door on the opposite side of the room that lead to a metallic walkway.
“This way!” she shouted before running out the door. The other two followed as fast as they could, stepping out onto the walkway in time to see the stubby legs of a fat man scrambling up a ladder in the distance. A wild arena battle raged below as Miles, Maxen and Mesa sprinted across the walkway that stretched all the way around the stadium, their footsteps clanging loudly on the steel below. They eventually arrived at the base of the ladder which appeared to lead to the roof of the stadium. Mesa took to the ladder first, followed by Maxen and finally Miles. As they climbed towards the top, they began to hear what sounded like the blades of a helicopter preparing for take-off and upon arriving on the roof, they saw just that, a large black and yellow chopper lifting slowly off the ground with a short, overweight man in a black suit sitting in the back. An expression of fear and terror was pasted across his sweaty, cowardly face as the vehicle climbed higher. Miles could see the resemblance, he looked like a younger, uglier version of Gideon.
“GET DOWN!” yelled Mesa to Miles and Maxen as the chopper turned towards them, revealing a heavy machine gun which was mounted to the bottom. The three scattered and took cover behind whatever they could find as the barrel of the large w
eapon began to spin, making a sound like a super charged washing machine. Bullets rained down on the stadium roof sending debris and dust in all directions, making it troublesome to move from cover. Miles sat shaking with Maxen behind a steel air conditioning cylinder while Mesa took cover about thirty feet away behind a concrete ledge.
“Maxen!” she shouted over the roar of the chopper blades and the blazing machine gun.
“Yeah?!” Maxen yelled back.
“I'll draw its fire, you take the fucker out!” Before Maxen had a chance to respond, Mesa rushed out of cover and on to the open roof, the bullets promptly followed her, hitting inches from her feet as she bolted across the rooftop with super human speed. 'Is she fucking deranged?!' Miles thought as he watched the fearless woman skilfully dodge the eternal shower of heavy machine gun rounds. Maxen quickly jumped to his feet and pointed his cannon at the chopper which now faced away from him. Miles watched anxiously as the bright blue energy ball shot from Maxen's arm and made direct and spectacular contact with the helicopter, severing the tail and sending it into a fatal downward spin. Mesa stopped running and looked up at the chopper as it fell, calmly pulling a cigarette from her jeans pocket and placing it in the side of her mouth. Maxen and Miles came out of cover and joined Mesa at the edge of the roof where they stood and watched the helicopter steam towards the asphalt of the parking lot below, breaking apart violently and exploding as it crashed into a bunch of empty parked cars, thankfully nowhere near Lucy or the stalls on the other side.
“Holy shit!” Maxen yelled hysterically, bringing his hands to his head.
“Nice shot,” Mesa said with a subtle smile as she flicked open her lighter and lit the cigarette. Miles collapsed to his knees, exhausted by the last few moments of madness.
“Is it over?” he asked, catching his breath.
“Pretty much,” replied Mesa taking a puff, “now that Ransom's dead, his guards have no one to protect, and he didn’t breed much in the way of loyalty, he was a fucking asshole to his staff. Even tried to hit on me until I told him I’d cut his dick off if he as much as touched me.” She turned away from the roof's edge and began to make her way back towards the ladder, “c'mon, let's get to the announcer's booth.”
“Why?” inquired Maxen, following her.
“'Cause I've got an announcement to make.” Miles climbed back on his feet and joined the other two as they headed back down the ladder to the walkway above the arena, this time making their way to a small box on the other side of the stadium.
Mesa kicked open the door of the announcer's booth to find a man in his mid-twenties, sitting at a desk, wearing a headset and commentating on the action below.
“And they've done it! The Cretins take down The Fortune Fighters in another amazing battle! Shame about ol' Gonzo though! Don't go anywhere folks, next up we've got-” Mesa spun the announcer's chair around to face her “W-what the fuck?” the announcer uttered, his brow trembling in fear.
“I've got somethin' to tell the good people,” said Mesa, grinning.
“Uh...y-yeah, of course,” the terrified announcer turned his chair back around to the desk and held down a red button on the mixing desk.
“Uhm...looks like we've got an important announcement from The Reaper herself!” he said in a trembling voice before handing the headset to Mesa. She held down the same red button and spoke into the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is The Reaper,” the crowd fell dead silent as the sultry voice of their beloved champion rang around the stadium, “I'd like to inform you all that from now on Titans Arena will be owned and operated by The Machine syndicate. The fight schedule will remain the same and I would like to let all security personnel know that their wages will be increased by fifteen percent, so don’t let me catch you shooting at me or my friends. If your vehicle happened to be crushed by a fallen helicopter at any point in the last twenty four hours, we apologize for the inconvenience and assure you that The Machine will gladly compensate you for any damages. Oh, and there will be free drink refills for everyone until closing today, so drink up! That will be all.” Mesa tossed the headset back to the confused announcer and left the room with Miles and Maxen as the arena crowd began to cheer and holler once more.
“So, who's going to run the arena now?” asked Miles as they made their way back to Taggart's box via the metal walkway.
“Just some Machine agent, he's good with numbers and business shit.”
They arrived back at the private box to see two men armed with automatic shotguns escorting a familiar face.
“Scott?!” Miles said, his eyes wide with surprise as he looked on at Scott the chuckster.
“What the fuck? What are you guys doin' here?” Scott seemed equally as shocked to see Miles and Maxen. Mesa looked confused, unsure how the men knew each other.
“So he's the one taking over the stadium?” Miles asked, turning to Mesa.
“Uh, yeah. Have you two met before?”
“I talked to these guys after their first fight and I was pretty disappointed when I heard you'd killed 'em!” said Scott with a laugh, “they put on a great show!”
“Small world I guess,” Mesa said smiling slightly, “so how do you like your new arena, Scott?” she added humorously, lounging languorously on one of Taggart’s finely crafted arm chairs.
“Well, I see you've already redecorated the place!” replied Scott ironically.
“I think it suits you,” said Mesa, briefly enjoying the comfort of the soft chair before standing back up and adding, “well, I'd stay for a drink if the bar wasn't blown to shit, plus I owe these guys,” she casually walked across the room and pressed the elevator’s call button, “good luck runnin' this place.”
“Hey, wait a minute. Don't you want me to arrange a lift back to New Fortune?” Scott suggested as the elevator arrived.
“No thanks,” replied Mesa, “I've got a ride.”
The three of them made their way out of the stadium and back to the pickup truck, stopping briefly at the arena's med bay to extract the bullet in Mesa’s shoulder and pick up a few badly needed medical supplies. Lucy was still waiting anxiously in the truck and could be seen smiling and bouncing up and down in the passenger seat as they approached, all alive and well. Lucy opened the truck door and ran as fast as she could to Miles, hugging him around the waist and grinning madly.
“Did you do the mission?!” she asked loudly.
“Sure did,” said Maxen, patting her head, “now Mesa’s gonna help us out,” he added happily.
“Yep, that was the deal,” Mesa jumped into the back of the pickup truck and lit another cigarette, “better get movin' if we wanna make it to New Fortune by sundown.”
“She's right,” said Miles, “we can celebrate on the way, right now it's time to get back on the road.”
“I was so scared,” Lucy said, her voice muffled as she buried her face in Miles’ chest, “I heard an explosion and got so worried, I thought you weren’t coming back!” she sobbed and Miles knelt down to comfort her. The past forty eight hours were a blur of blood and violence that Miles hadn’t even begun to assimilate. For now all he could do was put on a brave face for Lucy and keep going.
“Hey, I promised remember? Now let’s get to New Fortune and get us a proper night’s sleep in a real bed, and take a nice hot shower!”
Lucy wiped the tears from her eyes and beamed at the thought of a soft bed and a clean body.
Miles, Maxen and Lucy climbed into the truck and Mesa made herself as comfortable as possible in the back with Maxen’s bike as they pulled out of the vast parking lot and headed off in the direction of New Fortune. ‘Finally, finally this bad dream that started with that email from Hellen can end and I can get back to where I belong. So close now, just got to hang in there a little longer.’
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Chapter 29
Miles Stanton; family man and well behaved Elissa Energy Department worker with a spotless record. That was who Miles still saw h
imself as despite the life changing events of the past two months. This whole episode was nothing more than a blip, a glitch, in an otherwise unremarkable life. It was Miles’ yearning to return to that banal existence that had kept him going all this time, that kept him from taking the easy way out, compromising his ethics and becoming just another sick Gyaros psycho. A deep sense of injustice pushed him ever onward to regain what was rightfully his; a comfortable and respectable life with his family. Tyler Riggs pushed him too far and caused him to lose everything that mattered to him, it wasn’t fair, not fair at all. But there was something else brewing inside Miles, a concept so alien to his old way of thinking that it conflicted with everything he believed about how the world works. Riding with him in the rickety pickup truck were a convicted thief, thug and assassin, a homicidal android and an agent working under cover for one of Gyaros’ major crime syndicates. There were two things that everyone in that truck had in common, firstly they all had blood on their hands, they had all taken the lives of other human beings, some of whom didn’t even deserve to die. Secondly, Miles could not classify any one of them as a bad person. And he could quite honestly say that he would rather have any of these “shady” characters by his side than Tyler Riggs, a so-called proud and upstanding citizen of Carthage.
On Carthage everything was black and white. If you worked hard and obeyed the law you were a good person, if you slacked off or committed a crime you were bad. It was as simple as that, and for twenty nine years that’s how Miles viewed the world. He should not be judged harshly for this way of thinking as there was simply no alternative viewpoint, no critique of the system, not in the Green Districts at least. Dissenting voices rose up from time to time in the Yellow and Red Districts but where quickly quashed by swift and brutal Enforcer action, word of which would never make its way to the surface of Elissa, and even if it did, it wouldn’t be believed. Yes life was simple on Carthage but now Miles didn’t know what to think. After spending time on Gyaros it occurred to him that there were good folk in just about any place and in any profession and this thought scared him, terrified him. Miles was a proud Carthaginian, a proud Green Districts resident, and a proud Energy Department employee. He considered himself a good man because of arbitrary dividers such as geography, class and position. ‘But that doesn’t mean anything! I’ve been looking down on people my whole damn life, sometimes better men than I! Kinder men than I, more honest men than I! Just because of where they were born, or sent.’
