Flesh Worn Stone

by Burks, John

  * * *

  Finding five prone bodies in bright, brand new blue jumpsuits, complete with burlap bags over their heads, in the Cage was the last thing he expected to see on his return. He hurriedly reburied the shotgun and the backpack in the same place and then tiptoed around the drugged men and women and snuck back into the Cave, thinking of what those people were about to go through. He wanted to stop and wake them up, to somehow prepare them, but he knew that at least half of them had asked to come to the Cave willingly and made some sacrifice, be it a loved one, rape, or some insane amount of money, in order to do so. There wouldn’t be any way, now, to tell the innocent from the guilty, and suddenly he knew how those in the Cave had felt when they arrived. How did you trust anyone in a group of newcomers when some of them, at least, were capable of such evil in order to just play the Game?

  There just wasn’t anything he could do about it, and the more he thought about it, the less he realized he wanted to do about it.

  People were already up and about, but no one, at first, noticed him coming out of the tunnel leading from the Cage. He made his way towards the shelter, exhausted and ready to lie down and sleep for a while. Drawing the garbage bag curtain aside, he saw Darius sitting there, waiting for him.

  “Where have you been, Steven?” the big man asked, prowling through the basket of stuff John had collected with chits and not looking up.

  “I don’t need to tell you where I’ve been,” he said, trying to hide his panic, wondering if Darius had a clue to what he’d been up to.

  “You weren’t with your wife. I saw her fucking some other three-marker last night. She’s pretty intense when she wants to be,” Darius told him, trying to get a rise out of him. “I’ve never known a girl to suck a dick as well as her. I mean…how in the hell do you get that high a compression ratio?” Darius chuckled. “You weren’t anywhere in the Cave, actually, and I know because I walked around most of the night looking for you. So, if you weren’t banging you wife and you weren’t in the Cave, where were you?”

  “Why were you looking for me?” Steven asked, trying to change the subject. He would not let the man know he had a way out under any circumstances. He’d prefer the man dead, but he could just as well rot in this hellhole for all Steven cared.

  “I need you to come work for me. You do need a job, don’t you?”

  “I can’t see why I do,” he replied, nearly laughing. Darius was just as batshit insane as his wife.

  “You need a job, Steven, in order to be a productive citizen of the Cave. You don’t get to leech off the work of others anymore; you have to pay your own way.”

  He couldn’t believe the man had actually convinced himself of his silly speech. “Yeah…I think I’ll do without before I work for you.”

  “No, sorry. It doesn’t work that way. See, I’m the boss, and the boss gets to pick and choose who does what. And the boss picks you to work for me.”

  He couldn’t imagine what sort of humiliating task Darius might have for him, but he still wasn’t going to play that game with the man. “As I said thanks, but no thanks.”

  “Then what do you propose to do to eat? Food is no longer free.”

  He wasn’t going to mention that he knew several places on the island where food was, in fact, free. “I’ll manage.”

  “You won’t manage. You either contribute work or you contribute to the pot, you know what I mean?”

  Steven prepared to back out of the shelter and sprint for the beach and the shotgun buried there if he had to. “I know you think you know what you mean, but you’re insane. I’m not going to get a loan from a mythical bank to buy food, then turn around and work some made-up job in order to pay that loan back. Let me guess, the interest rate is pretty high too, right?”

  Darius shrugged. “We have to make it worthwhile for the bank to loan money.”

  “You do realize John is dead, right? If there ever was any truth to his tale, the odds of reclaiming that money now, even if you made it out of here, are exactly zero. Zilch. Nada. Your chits are, as they always were, worth nothing, and worth less than nothing now. The people will eventually realize this.”

  “They are worth more now,” Darius argued, “because I control how many of them there are.”

  “That’s insane.”

  “It’s working. People are out there right now, cleaning the Cave, gathering things to trade, and helping each other. You should see the spirit of comrade that’s overtaken this place. You’d be surprised at what people will find to do, even in a place like this, in order to make a living. I’ve turned it from hell into a Utopia. I’ve given people hope.”

  “And what are you going to do when the food runs out or if there’s a dry spell between Games? What are you going to do about the crime? What are you going to do when people start stealing in order to eat?”

  “Nothing, why should I? It will all work itself out. Stealing is illegal in the Cave, punishable by death. If they steal, they’ll end up in the pot, same as always.”

  Darius was clearly delusional, Steven thought, and in that delusion he was dangerous. “Well, I can’t help you. I’m taking another job,” he lied.

  “Oh? Where at? With who? I wasn’t aware that there was actually another employer besides me here.”

  “It’s a surprise. I’m sure you’ll be proud.”

  The big man stood and Steven wondered, again, if he was going to have to run. If he were killed here, he’d never get a chance to strangle Mia in front of her mother. But instead of attacking him, Darius simply walked out of the tent, ignoring him as if he weren’t there and like the conversation had never taken place.

  Steven thought he’d be able to sleep the rest of the day, the night’s excursions weighing heavily on him, but there was no such luck. The alarm for the Game sounded and was followed by a rousing cheer from the residents of the Cave. Steven sighed, wishing once again he’d murdered the little girl and then gotten a nap instead of exploring.

  * * *

  He watched as the newcomers stumbled in behind the crowd and wondered if they’d had similar conversations as he and his group of five on arrival. Had they accused each other of being responsible for their arrival there, distrusting all? The group was just as varied—there was an Asian couple, the woman crying so hard that Steven thought she’d collapse from the deep heaving, a tall, slender black man who looked as if he had been stripped right out of an NBL team, and two young college-aged girls. Steven wondered which of the girls had betrayed the other, selling her best friend into a life of slavery, which of the Asians had stabbed his or her mate in the back, what price the black man had paid. He didn’t care about the people, and though he knew a few were probably innocent, he was more curious about what evil had been committed in order to fulfill the terms of the Contract.

  Jackson pushed through the crowd as the gladiator cartoon played, making his way towards Steven. Steven was suddenly very, very nervous. He wasn’t ready to be busted for escape yet, and he was quickly aware of all the tracks he’d left, the things he’d taken from Jackson’s cabin…the complete mess he’d made while trying to be discreet.

  “Hello Steven,” the man said, smiling. “How have you been?”

  “I’ve…what kind of fucking question is that for a place like this?”

  “Indeed, it would be an awkward question for one not quite as,” he paused, looking for a word, “resourceful as you are.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Steven said, his heart racing frantically.

  “The bit with the pig was sheer brilliance. It’s still quite interesting to see how a little food will change the entire attitude of the Cave, and you played that to the hilt. You went from villain to savior in the span of a week. I told them in the Castle that you deserved better, that you were smart and driven, but they insist that you’re a threat. I might have disagreed with them if I didn’t know what you’d taken from my cabin.”

  “What are you talking about?” Steven asked, attempting to fak
e being incredulous.

  “Where is the shotgun, Steven? Something like that could change the entire balance of power here, worse than you’re arrival mate,” he said, pointing to where Darius stood, waving to people as if he were their king. “He’s already messed things up. The swords and other artifacts from the Mary,” he said, referring to the rebuilt wooden ship hanging in the Cave, “that Darius has armed his men with are bad enough. They change the entire attitude of the people who do not have them. The ever-present threat of violence is intolerable.”

  “You are kidding, right? The threat of violence is constant here.”

  “In the context of the Game, of course. But the weapons are a game changer, and the shotgun in particular could truly screw up our operation here. And, to be honest, we have a wonderful operation.”

  Steven knew there was no point lying to the man. He had to keep him talking while he thought of a way out of the situation. “A wonderful operation? You traffic in people and pain. You bring slaves here and pit them against each other for your entertainment like some sort of modern Colosseum. You kill for pleasure, you rape for fun.” He stopped short of telling him how much he knew about the operation at the top of the Canyon.

  “We perform a service, Steven, both for the people who are brought here as well as those who watch, either from the skyboxes or long distances away on the video feed. We take people who need something in their life, some drastic change, and give them rebirth.”

  Steven had already heard the sales pitch and wasn’t impressed. “You have people kill in order to come here. You had my wife murder my sons.”

  “Yes, indeed, and that was a unique situation. Your wife is the first person, in our long history, who has ever returned to this place. She is the first who wanted to participate in the Game again, and she paid a dear price for the privilege.”

  Steven wanted to kill the man right there. “She murdered my sons. I paid the price.”

  “And yet you are here, stronger than the day you arrived, nearly reborn. Steven, if you let it, this Game will set you free. And in your service to the Cave, you help the rest of the world as well.”

  “Oh really? How in hell do you help the rest of the world?”

  “Those people up there, in the skyboxes,” he said, pointing to the one-way mirrors, “who make the requests and suggestions on the Game…what do you think they’d be doing if they weren’t here? They’d be out murdering and raping. Instead, they get to act out those aggressions here.”

  “At the expense of the people of the Cave.”

  “Who, if they win five Games, not only leave reborn but well compensated.”

  “I didn’t want to be reborn, and I sure didn’t want to be well compensated. I was happy with my life that you guys took from me. No,” he said, reconsidering, “you didn’t take it from me. You raped it from me.”

  “But you will be reborn, Steven, or you will die.”

  Steven started to walk away, but Jackson stopped him with a gentle hand on the shoulder. “I take it, then, that you are not going to tell me where the shotgun is? I cannot tell you the trouble it will create. If you think Darius is a monster now, then how do you think he’ll be with the shotgun you,” he paused, again looking for just the right word, “appropriated.”

  “If you guys are so upset about Darius, why don’t you do something about him?” Steven asked.

  “He was picked, as it were, by the people. We don’t control how the Cave is run. The people, contrary to your belief, Steven, have a choice. They can leave anytime they wish.”

  Steven wanted to hit him again but instead managed to fake a laugh. “Really? And that’s what the machine guns and alarms are for? That’s why they run out and murder a girl who dared step out of the Cage?”

  “Do you see some controlling authority telling the people to do that, Steven? There is an alarm, yes, but for their own safety. That the people of the Cave choose to punish escape with death is quite their own choosing.”

  “That’s bullshit. What about the machine guns up there?”

  “Completely inoperable, as I’m sure you already know. There is no one keeping them here. They choose to be here. They choose to live this way.”

  “You’re saying you wouldn’t do anything to them if they didn’t carry out their end of the Contract? After you’ve went through the trouble of getting them here?”

  “Their Contract executions, whatever the payment may be, are watched and recorded as well. Once payment is made our requirements are fulfilled.”

  “And you’d let someone just walk away? I find that hard to believe.”

  “It’s happened before. We do not hunt people down and force them here, Steven. As I’ve said, everything here is the choice of the people who live here. We merely suggest and watch from above.”

  “And you kill someone who doesn’t participate in the Game and then reward those who do with garbage.”

  “There is abundant food on this island, as you’ve surely seen on the way to and from my cabin. The gate to the Cage isn’t even locked.”

  There was no arguing with the man, and he felt like he was having a flame war on some anonymous message board on the internet. The people in the Castle not only felt they were saving the citizens of the Cave, they thought they were doing the world a favor. They were righteous in their pursuits, and any guilt they might have was completely negated by believing it was the people who made the decisions to live this way. Steven turned away in disgust.

  “You will not reconsider the shotgun? As I said, it’s a game changer here that the Castle does not think appropriate.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steven lied, knowing full well that the lie would not save him as he turned and walked away. None of this had anything to do with avenging his sons and was merely a waste of time.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Jackson said, raising his right fist in the air and then motioning down with his thumb. “I truly am.”

  * * *

  Darius was literally on cloud nine. His little speech had worked so well he actually had people asking to take out more loans to fund whatever stupid little business idea they had. If Sally wanted to sell seashells by the seashore who was he to get in the way? It had gotten so bad he had two men creating more chits full time and had to use scraps of napkins and paper towels from the garbage hauls to keep track of all the chits. Now that John was dead, he knew they were worthless, if they’d ever been worth anything, but it didn’t matter. While he was here, the system would keep him in charge of the serfs and well fed. When he won, and left the Cave, he’d be a rich man anyway, not needing John’s money.

  It was the perfect set up.

  That the system was already creating a crime spree didn’t bother him either. People had soon realized they could make multiple trips through the food line as long as they paid. That led to people stealing other people’s chits or belongings in order to trade with Ernie and Max and get more to eat. Darius didn’t care about that either, knowing the ultimate penalty was death, and a person’s death meant meat in the pot which meant more product to sell the idiots to keep them fighting among themselves. If the thieves were caught, they went into the pot, and if they weren’t caught, there was that much more fear in the Cave.

  And fear, really, was what kept things going.

  He managed to say a few conciliatory words as the first three people were brought forward for execution, and the line of citizens took an agonizing hour to work their way around the three, kicking them to death. There was little left, afterwards, but the remains were carted off by his trusted employees for the pot later.

  “And on to the Game!” he screamed to the cheering fans as the gladiator cartoon was replaced by one citizen’s number and the letter A. It took him several seconds to realize that the number was his and everyone in the Canyon was staring at him.

  “Oh,” he said softly, “that’s me. But what the hell does A mean?”

  A hundred arms shot up at once, and h
e realized that he’d made a mistake and underestimated Jackson, along with the people of the Castle. They’d not managed to kill him in a Game, so they were going to do the next best thing. “That has to be a mistake,” he said, hearing the fear in his own voice. “That’s not my number.”

  His own men, Block’s former men, began advancing on him, and he backed away. “No, god damn it. I’m the leader. I make the decisions here, not them.” He was scared and shaking, panicking. “You do what I tell you to.”

  The men swarmed Darius, and there was no amount of struggling he could do to get free. Six of them hoisted him into the air, carried him to the center of the arena, and then let him flop to the ground. He sat up, looking around wildly. “Traitors…I’m paying you. You can’t do this to me. I run this place!” he screamed.