by Mark Tufo
I headed off to the games. I walked into the arena first because I was the lowest ranking which this time didn’t bother me that much, it gave me a chance to survey the area that much longer. The aliens had scaled down the football size arena into something more along the size of an indoor arena football field. And this arena was round unlike its rectangular predecessors. I guess it gave them the chance to squeeze more fans into this place. And it also gave none of the competitors any advantage. We would all be let in at equidistant points around the circle. Leonard entered next and was not given a rousing applause, apparently his lack of variety in the kill didn’t sit well with the masses. And there it was, my extra time paid off. His weapon of choice was about thirty yards to his left and forty yards to my right. My mind was racing, could I get there before him? He was scrawny but he was fast and he had a ten yard head start. And the footing could be treacherous. It was a jungle motif, but not a necessarily dense one. They must have had complaints about obstructed views of kills. There were trees and vines but they were spread out, mostly there were twisted roots on the ground. Running could prove perilous. Troy was finally led in on the far end of the circle. He was a good sixty or seventy yards away from the action and I still had no way to tell which side if any he was playing for. The buzzer lit and I started running for all I was worth. Leonard saw my move and also started to sprint. Damn, I thought to myself, he’s fast. I had made up about five yards before he fully realized what I was attempting to do. But that was it—he was closing in fast, would he have enough time to grab the bow, turn and fire? I almost faltered; my feet slid and the aliens went nuts. They were expecting an early kill, well they were right. He was less than ten feet away and I was twenty to twenty-five feet away. I almost sheared off, had there been anywhere around to take cover I would have. But I was out in the open and I was committed. I didn’t even want to turn to see what Troy was up to, for all I knew he was sitting back at his entrance just waiting to see which one of us bought it first. Not a bad idea, I wish I had thought of that earlier. I was still running full tilt when I noticed Leonard had a small problem with the bow, the string got hung up on the hook it was suspended from. I just might have made it—and then it came free. He brought it up to bear fast. I had so fully committed myself to the charge I hadn’t even brought a knife to a bow and arrow fight. So I did the only thing I could—I ran straight into him. Not as if I was tackling him, but I just kept running as if he was never there. There was a loud snap as we collided and I was pretty sure from the protrusion and the flaring pain, I had dislocated my left shoulder. But I had taken at least one of his ribs out, he was screaming like a little kid. But it didn’t stop him, he knew the drill—it was do or die time. My momentum had driven him against the wall and had lent him some support. To my regret he had never let go of the bow. I was carried directly into the wall, and unfortunately these weren’t padded like in major league baseball. No, these had more of the consistency of National Hockey League walls. I crumpled like a tin can, hoping he made a clean hit. I rolled over to face my exodus, Leonard had finally regained enough of his poise to stop his screaming. I think I punctured one of his lungs because he was sucking a lot of air, but his five minutes of life were ten times the amount I was looking at.
He raised his bow and pulled the string back and then his face just disappeared. The cavalry had come! Troy had planted his mace square in Leonard’s face. The arrow still came dangerously close to my head, but to this day I will never forget the vision of Leonard’s face turning into pulp right before my eyes. Fragments of bone and tissue flew everywhere and an eyeball went into the stands where one of the Progerians made a handy snack out of it. It was as if I was watching life one frame at a time. I watched as each individual piece of his face went flying into different directions. Time stood still and then raced ahead; Troy was coming my way and he had a mace, I was still partially dazed from my wall contact and I’m pretty sure I had a concussion. Well, I thought, at least I made it easy for him. And then he surprised me—he offered his hand. The aliens were angry at the turn, they were throwing things onto the arena’s floor. Some of the debris looked like femurs; they probably had a fried leg stand somewhere in this hell hole. Well it couldn’t get any worse, I figured he could either kill me on the ground or standing up. At this point it made little difference to me.
“Come on, grab my hand!” he shouted above the din.
“What are you doing?” I said, desperately trying to shake off the effects of the concussion.
“We had a deal. I didn’t know if I could trust you or not, but you more than held up your end of the bargain and I am a man of my word. Or in this case, nod. Get up, collect your thoughts, grab a weapon and let’s finish this.” So I reached out with my good arm to his proffered hand and stumbled wearily to the wall, farthest from where Leonard’s body lay. I wanted as much time to regroup as possible. I was still half expecting a shot to the back of the head, but true to his word he never left the spot where he had helped me up, not until I gave him the thumbs up. The aliens did not like this at all—here was another of their inherent weaknesses, they had no honor. I don’t believe they had any clue as to the motives behind what was taking place on the floor. I walked as slowly as I dared so as not to anger the guards. They hadn’t raised their weapons but they also weren’t at parade rest either. My head rang like a bell, my left shoulder was on fire. I had one arm to defeat a heavy weapon user, maybe it would have been more humane if he had just finished me off when he originally had the chance. My only chance against Troy was to reset my shoulder. They always made it look so easy in movies and TV, but I’m telling you right now, if anything more than a fly had even breathed on my shoulder I would have been crying like Leonard had been. The thought of actually ramming it into the wall terrified me. If I didn’t do it hard enough and it didn’t pop back in I risked the chance of passing out from the pain and honor or not, Troy would have no choice but to finish me off and go home. I risked the chance of passing out even if it did go back in. So I went for broke, I got a five foot start and dove straight at the wall, twisting my shoulder as it made contact. The sound of it going back in was something like what I would imagine glass encrusted fingernails ripping down on a dirty chalkboard would, my vision began to tunnel and I was on the verge of passing out. And then it passed.
I could move it again, yeah it was going to take some special alien juice to make it right but it worked for now, even if it sounded like I had rocks rolling around in there. Troy began his reluctant striding over to my spot. He took no pleasure in this and I believe he was under the wrong assumption that I was still greatly handicapped. I felt bad, the man had saved my life and now I had to kill him, but that was the nature of this game.
Three men in and hopefully at least one out. I grabbed a sword with my right hand and I played the part of a left-sided cripple. Every time I attempted to grab the hilt with my left I winced and dropped my hand back down to my side. He had to be figuring I had no chance to wield a two handed sword with one hand. And toward me he came, a scowl on his face I did not think he would give me another reprieve. We had fulfilled our bargain and now it was time to finish this affair. I feebly held up the sword and onward he strode. He raised the mace knowing full well I’d never be able to deflect it with one arm, more than likely he’d drive the mace and my sword into and through me. I don’t know why he hesitated. Did he think this was too easy? Was it a trap? Or was he distraught over having to kill the first ally he had in this place thus far? I begged him in my mind not to change his game plan now; the euphoria was beginning to seep out of me to be replaced by a giant red spot in the center of my skull. But his hesitation was momentary and again he came forward. As he swung I moved right and grabbed the hilt of the sword with my left arm to bring it in a slicing motion across his abdomen. It was a deep cut, I almost lost the sword to the vacuum of his innards. As I sliced deeper and his forward progress brought him to the other side of my attack, the sword released itself from him
with an audible sucking sound. Right then, Leonard’s destroyed face would have actually been a welcome sight. Troy’s innards spilled out, he dropped his mace as he desperately tried to place them all back inside. Foot after foot of intestine just rolled out of him, the smell was horrendous. His eyes glazed over in shock and sorrow; he began crying. It was the worst thing I had ever seen. He fell to his knees right on top of his intestines. He attempted to rise but became tangled up in himself. I didn’t know what to do—I was so horrified by what I was seeing I was frozen. He turned his face to me and it was framed with his innards; he begged me to kill him, he pleaded. But yet I still couldn’t move, my legs felt as rubbery as the substance oozing out of Troy.
“Kill me,” he whispered. “Oh dear God, please just kill me.”
“I—I—I can’t,” I stuttered.
“I’d do it for you.”
And that was all I needed to solidify my resolve. I drove the sword through his back, and into his lungs, and mercifully through his heart.
“Thank you,” were his dying words.
He thanked me for killing him. I knew from that point on I’d never be the same person. My fate was sealed and I was petrified. I don’t even remember the walk back to the house. I would have liked to have blamed it on the concussion, but that was not the case. I had been altered and for the life of me I couldn’t imagine it being for the good. It’s not like I had been enlightened; no it was the opposite. If there was such a word, I had been endarkened and I was afraid for my very soul.
CHAPTER 35
Somewhere outside of Georgetown
Paul stopped in the first good-sized town outside of Vail and pulled into the Texaco station to use their landline. He would have used his cell but he was fairly certain the good old U.S. Government had that tapped. He actually kind of liked that, he could feed them whatever information would benefit him. He knew they knew about the location of his training facility outside of Vail, but his alternate would not be compromised.
“Wags, buddy, what’s up?”
“Paulie, how you doing my man?” Dennis was a longtime friend Paul could trust, loyal almost to a fault. He was just the type of man Paul needed for the Defense Corp.
“Dennis, have you gotten in touch with Ron yet?”
“Yeah, I talked to him yesterday.”
“How’d he sound?”
“He sounded a little weirded out. I’m not sure he’s grasping the whole concept of his little brother being beamed aboard a spaceship. But he knows something is wrong, and that the government is trying to cover it up.”
“Okay, more importantly, my friend—is he willing to help?”
“He seemed hesitant at first. He started hemming and hawing about permits and stuff like that. I thought he was going to say no, but then he just looked me square in the eye and said screw it. ‘They messed over my brother now it’s payback time.’ And that’s pretty much how the conversation went.”
“Excellent. When do you think you’ll get that done?”
“Well, my man,” Dennis said exuberantly. “With some help from Kev, Dino, and a few select others with Ron’s heavy machinery, I’d say no more than two to three months.”
“We don’t have that kind of time. I’m expecting either a raid from the Feds or an attack from our out-of-town friends. I need to be able to move in a month. Two max.”
“That’s pushing it, Paul. There’s a few more guys who are sort of sitting on the fence about this. I guess I could push them a little harder.”
“Wags.”
“Yeah, Paul?”
“I appreciate everything you’re doing out there.”
“I’m doing it for Mike.”
“You and me both, my friend.”
Paul hung up the phone and shook his head. He was looking forward to going home but not for the reasons that demanded it.
CHAPTER 36
“Ground Control to Shuttle Liberation. Ground Control to Shuttle Liberation.” The delay caused by the distance was a lot less than one would expect, but enough to make talking awkward, which was why as Ground Control was finishing up their second attempt to hail the shuttle, Colonel Thomas had already started talking.
“This is the Space Shuttle Liberation. Go ahead Ground Control.”
“Say again, Shuttle Liberation. I was still talking when you began.”
This was what it was like talking to mainland USA when he was stationed in Hawaii, the colonel thought.
“I say again Ground Control, this is Colonel Thomas of the Space Shuttle Liberation. Ground Control, where is Major Hatfield?”
“Ah, Colonel, he… he’s taken some time off to be with his family.”
The colonel couldn’t blame him. These could be the last few days of civilization. And the colonel knew Butch was taking this mission a lot harder than even he himself was. When Butch found out Ray was going on this mission, he had volunteered himself also. Ray had turned him down. When Butch had confronted him on it, he merely answered that he wanted Butch here on Earth to take care of his kids. He had known from the get-go this was a one-way ticket and he’d be damned if he made Butch’s kids fatherless too.
“What can we do for you, Ground Control? Do you want a bowel movement or something for your bio-sensors?”
“Ah, no, sir, General Burkhalter wanted to say a few words.”
That got the colonel’s attention. Not that he really had any respect for the rank in principle, but he did for that man. Of all the generals he had ever met, he felt only two or three had actually earned their rank through battlefield expertise and not their political know-how. And General Burkhalter was definitely in the former category.
“Hello, Colonel, how are things going up there? How is your crew’s morale?”
The colonel found himself assuming the position of attention. He knew he was hundreds of thousands of miles away and the general couldn’t even see him, but there he was in zero g’s at the position of attention.
“Sir, morale is as high as it can be, but the men do have a few requests.”
“By all means, Colonel, but please be advised we have been told by our senior science staff these transmissions are being monitored and most likely decoded.”
“But how is that possible, sir? This is the most advanced technology known to man?” And then the Colonel realized he had answered his own question. “Sir, the men would like a few words with their significant others.” He made damn sure to omit the word ‘last’ in the previous sentence. No sense in letting their eavesdroppers know their intentions.
“We should be able to arrange that, Colonel. But in the meantime, please know you have the utmost admiration and respect from your colleagues and myself.”
“Coming from you sir, that truly is an honor.”
“Over and out, Liberation.”
“Over and out, Ground Control… and goodbye,” the colonel added inaudibly.
CHAPTER 37 – Journal Entry 25
I sat in my enormous living room and stared at the Jumbotron. So there I was, ranked last—can you believe this? I couldn’t buy respect. Three people left and I was ranked third. This was worse than betting with my brother, Ronny. At least I knew where I stood with him. I just kept losing, it was never hard to know where you were. But here, I kept winning and I was losing, how did that make any sense? But then again, none of this really made any sense. I was fully expecting another round robin event but the aliens wanted to draw the suspense out. Number 2, Sam Pontiff and myself were to battle to the end to see who would have the privilege to meet Thomas Durgan, who by all accounts had gotten even bigger. He looked like he was growing taller and more muscular—what could they have been feeding him? I had actually hoped for a one-on-one-on-one event again, I was fairly certain Sam would have sided with me until we possibly finished Durgan off, although I would have liked to have had at least another two or three people in there with us for insurance. I was not sure if a battle armored alien guard could have stood up to Durgan these days. Any semblance o
f sanity had left that man the first week he was on this ship and he had done nothing but spiral even further into insanity since then. Sam was a study in the opposite, he was methodical and thorough. Proficient, I guess is the word I’m looking for. He had been somewhat of an underdog through the earlier rounds, but he had proved himself big in the last three or four rounds with some huge upsets. He had the appearance of a surfer dude gone bad. To glance at him quickly, you would have seen a man with shoulder length bleached blond hair, roguish good looks and a quick smile. I’m sure once upon a time he was a pot-smoking laid back guy, much like my friend Paul whom I missed dearly. But on closer examination of his eyes, you would take notice that whatever light of goodness that had shone in them had dimmed and been replaced long ago with a cruel and bitter darkness. He took no joy in his kills, but neither did he shy away from them. At five-foot ten he wasn’t necessarily huge, but I could tell any surfer residue had been burned away. This man had been using the weight bench religiously, he was ripped. I was trembling, I hadn’t even realized it until I looked down at my hands and they were shaking. I wasn’t necessarily shaking because of Sam, although he definitely scared me. No, I was shaking because I was two rounds away from Beth and I couldn’t even begin to explain to her the things I’d done since we’d been apart. How do you go about explaining the unexplainable? Oh God, I hoped I had not gone through all this for naught. No, I thought, stop thinking like that. You have kept these women around you alive too. But for what? I asked myself. For further slavery for more events? I was pretty sure they weren’t going to put me out to pasture after this was over, if I lived. Isn’t the first sign of insanity when someone talks to himself? My mind was racing in a thousand directions but it always steered back to one thing—Beth. The girl who I felt in my heart I was destined for. My soul mate. But how tarnished was my soul, how black and dirty was it now? Even if she accepted me on the physical plane, would she reject me on the spiritual? Would her soul be so repulsed by mine that her heart would have to follow? I had to get out of here, I had to go for a walk. So I went up to the door that wasn’t a door and just started shouting.
