by Mark Tufo
“Has been guided by the hand of God,” I rasped.
Deb gasped in amazement that I was awake. “You bastard, you let me go on and you were awake this whole time!” she yelled.
“Well, even us heroes need ego boosting every once in a while,” I murmured.
“You … you…” her face reddened with the prospect of using the appropriate terminology. Before she was able to find and use the sailor’s vernacular, I spoke.
“Deb, I love you.”
“But?” Wow, she did know me well.
“But Beth is and always will be my first love, and I think my soul mate. You were there at a time when I so desperately needed someone. You made me happy and kept me going especially when I didn’t think that I had anything left in me. But I truly feel that the end is drawing near, whether it is for my victory or my ultimate end. I can feel it in my bones; in my very soul I can feel it. And because of that I have to be true to Beth and myself. Being with you now would only be selfish.”
“I know,” she said softly. “But I’d rather have a small piece of you than no part at all.” She left the room before her watering eyes began to tear.
After a brief reprieve Tanya came in, more breathtakingly beautiful than I had remembered, but alas I had no time for such frivolous thoughts anymore.
“They have a fight slated for you two weeks from today,” she said bluntly.
“That’s just dandy, I can’t even leave this bed right now to take a whiz, but in two weeks I’ll be back in the arena fighting.”
Her entire demeanor reeked of concern. Although I know she cared for me I was under the impression that she was more concerned with her own well being than with mine. And that was completely understandable; I didn’t fault her for that at all.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m sure that I’ll be able to piss by myself in two weeks.”
She laughed and I laughed and damn it, it felt good. Up until the time my ribs said otherwise.
The aliens had held off on the ratings until they were sure that I was going to pull through. My survival was probably going to set off a shit storm, because a lot of contestants were more than likely studying the opponent they would next meet with me out of the picture. So they had in most cases wasted a month of studying time on an opponent they would not be facing. Thoughts of Beth filled my head constantly, life without her seemed incomplete. Debbie had become solemn and withdrawn over the last few days; unfortunately I couldn’t afford to be good company to her. I didn’t feel that I had the capacity for it.
No. 2, I thought to myself. Not bad, not bad at all. But with 74 other competitors left that meant that Durgan was going to get another bye, which meant the rest of us were going to do our best to kill each other while sustaining grievous injuries and he just kept getting stronger. Apparently God, or at least the aliens, didn’t like that scenario either. The aliens wanted to see the gruesome Durgan at work so they revoked his bye and were going to randomly assign it. I was under the suspicion that ‘random’ was too strong a word. These aliens probably had ties to the mob. I was convinced that my number wasn’t even included in the randomization process. And there it was, No. 13 got the bye. Well, on to the task at hand.
CHAPTER 24 – Journal Entry 19
My next opponent, No. 74, Shawn Timmins, Albert Timmins older brother, was one of those rare individuals that prove that you can’t judge a book by its cover. Especially when the cover weighed in excess of 360 pounds. He was about 5’10” or 5’11” and fat, not big and bulky, just plain fat like his brother. If I ever got off of this ship would I be able to go to the Timmins’ household and look their mother in the face? And tell her what, that her boys had died valiantly, at a stupid alien contrived event? Shawn was huge like his brother, but all similarities stopped there. He moved effortlessly and with a precision that a figure skater would have been proud of. I had no clue how this incredible bulk of a man had made it this far. I watched all of his previous clashes and discovered that I was going to be truly saddened by killing him. He was one of the few contestants left that was worthy of living. By all accounts, he never let one of his competitors suffer needlessly, and it appeared that the women were relieved when he won. They obviously knew their fate with him would not end up with torture and death. However I might feel about him, I still had to look out for number one, or in this case No. 2. I deserved to live just as much as the next guy and I was not going to let those feelings disrupt my ultimate goal, which was to get off of this ship and give these aliens some payback. This man was blessed with a grace that belied his enormous size; he must have lulled all of his competition into a false sense of security. He had to have a lot of muscle mass to move that much weight around that fast. He, unlike me, did not make it to this level on luck alone. He was skilled, but I found a chink in his enormous mass. And I planned to exploit it for all it was worth, and in this case that meant his life. My competition was in two days and I did aerobic exercises almost that whole time, I had to regain some of my former strength. I said nothing more than the precursory niceties to the girls. Deb had withdrawn from our makeshift family, she did little more than eat and sleep. I felt concern but it was buried deep, it was more like a back burner type of concern; if I wasn’t actually looking at her I didn’t think about it at all. By the time my front door dematerialized I was able to, as promised, take a piss on my own. Also, due to the expert care of our hosts, I felt almost 70 to 75 percent back to my normal self.. Not as high as I would have liked it to be, but a lot better than dead, I reckoned. For once I actual entered the arena with no fear, whether it was pure folly or total confidence, I’m not sure. It finally felt good to not want to heave at the beginning of a bout, but the flip side of that was I was about to kill a man and I was not concerned about that little tidbit at all. I was saddened at the prospect of never again being that boy who had come onto this ship. Would my own mom even recognize me? I seriously doubted it.
The battlefield this time was a mockup of a department store. It looked just like Wal-Mart, there was a produce section off to the right, sporting goods straight ahead, a row of registers to the left. Sporting goods, huh! What are the odds they’d have rifles there? I didn’t think that would happen but it might be worth a jaunt down that aisle to check it out. First I grabbed a spear and then I strode up one of the aisles. Much to my chagrin everything was merely a mirage, unlike previous scenarios all of the goods in this store were nothing more than smoke and mirrors. The floor and the shelving felt real enough but if you tried to pick up a bottle of Wisk your hand would pass right through it. So even their computers had limitations. It was good to know that this opponent was not omnipotent. Well, so much for a rifle, I might as well go to the task at hand. And there he was, entering the same aisle that I was in. We had about twenty-five yards of distance to close on each other before we clashed. Alright, time to put Plan A into effect. This had better work because there was no Plan B. Mr. Timmins seemed pleased that I was headed straight for him, apparently looking at him gave people the misinformed notion that he could in no way move his bulk quickly enough to strike or even repel an attack. I picked up my pace a little and brought the spear up over my head and threw it for all it was worth. Well, I’m not Swahili and he was fast. He dodged it with little to no effort whatsoever. I stood for a second as if dumbfounded. I let him go on the offensive, something I knew that he was not used to but would do if the cards favored it. He ran at me, sword upraised. I stayed as long as I dared, he moved fast, faster than he even looked on the tapes. I heard, hell, I felt the tip of the sword as it cut a six inch swath through the back of my shirt as I hauled ass away. Smelling fear and blood he chased me. I made sure to stay close enough so that he wouldn’t give up the chase but far enough so that I didn’t become his next victim. My legs burned, it had been a long time since I had sprinted; my lungs ached for air. But I could hear Timmins laboring, he sounded like a bulldog on a 95-degree day. He was panting and snorting and I bet if I had big enough balls to turn
around he would have been drooling like one also. I could sense he was falling further and further behind. I sped up and then slowed when I felt the distance was right. Timmins was hunched over with his hands on his knees breathing for all he was worth; catching his breath was becoming an exercise in futility. Well, time to up the ante. I sprinted to the end of the aisle and cut up the next one running for all I was worth and circled back to the far end where I had first spotted him. Poor bastard, he was still hunched over gasping for air. I halved the fifty yards in eight or nine seconds, scooping up my spear as I ran. He was possumming! He stood, twirled and ran right at me at full sprint. I again chucked the spear at him but this time he was more like a charging bull than a dancing pony. I scored a partial hit; blood welled up from a wound in his side but he never slowed. This time I had no time to feign surprise, my forward momentum had brought me to within inches of his sword. I did not have enough time to turn tail, I ducked down and dove to the right. Timmins’ bulk brought him another twenty feet before he was able to get his mass moving in another direction. I scrambled for a few feet on all fours, I wasn’t trying to look pretty I was just trying to escape. Every moment counted, he was again right on my ass. If he had a spear I would have been impaled a long time ago. My legs were throbbing, I had a stitch in my left side, but I was not going to slow down to resolve that problem. After another twenty-five to thirty yards of him pursuing me I could tell he was dropping off again. I felt confident enough to take a glance over my shoulder and yes, he had stopped and was once again hunched over hands on knees, but this time his shirt was soaked through. Sweat was dropping into his brow and off his chin. I would remember to be careful of the puddle he was making lest I slipped on that. I figured I had more time but I had no desire to prolong this, I once again grabbed my spear. Timmins lifted his head just enough to eyeball what I was doing. He knew, he eyed me and smiled.
“Touché Mr. Talbot!” he yelled between ragged breaths.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. I was not about to give him any more breathing room.
“I see what you’re doing,” he rasped, “I may be fat but I’m not stupid. I’m glad I’ll be losing to you instead of one of those other animals. Maybe in a different place we could have actually been friends.”
”Maybe,” I said warily “But you know what I have to do.”
“I do,” he answered. “But do me two favors?” he asked.
“What?”
“Take care of my women, and then please take care of these insects,” and he gestured with his hand to the crowd.
“I promise on my very soul that I will do both of those things for you and for every other decent person that has died here.” With that promise made he dropped his sword. Was this another trick, was he just trying to lure me in? I couldn’t take that chance.
“Defend yourself!” I yelled
“My time here is done Mike, just do it fast."
“Shawn, pick up your weapon, don’t make me do it this way.”
“Come on man, you know as well as I do I don’t stand a chance against Durgan or anybody else for that matter. I’ve been watching you since this began, you have a way about you. You could actually pull this off. No, it’s better this way. The women have a better chance of survival with you than they do with me. I care more for them than for myself. Just do it!” he yelled.
His voice startled me, I think I jumped. I was wishing that it could be me letting the weight off of MY shoulders. He was about to die and he seemed immensely relieved. Is that how I’d feel? I wondered.
“Mike, this isn’t a trick. Finish me off or they’ll do the both of us in. Just look over there,” he said as he pointed to the right hand side of the stadium. The guards were already zeroing in on us, and up until now I had not noticed the hissing and booing from the seats. The crowd wanted death and they wanted it now, they didn’t care whether it came from my spear or the guards’ weapons.
“Do it,” and he dropped to his knees. “Do it now,” and then he clasped his hands over his head. “Do it or all of our women are dead.”
I approached him slowly, tears welling up in my eyes. Then I had full on tears coming down my face, I was crying like I was in the 1st grade and somebody had stolen my favorite lunchbox. I picked up the sword he had discarded and walked completely around Timmins so that his back was facing me. The crowd hushed, the guards put down their weapons. I raised the sword with both hands but I had to take one hand to wipe my eyes. I wanted to make sure that this was a clean killing blow and I could barely make out his bulk at the moment. I could tell that he was also crying; his back rose and fell in the spastic way it does when people are sobbing.
“I’m sorry Shawn.”
“Me too.” he cried as he placed his hands down by his sides.
I cut his head off; it was amazingly easy, like a hot knife through butter. Blood spurted out of his severed neck and the body fell over. His head rolled another five or six feet before coming to a rest. Of course it was face up and he still had a tear in his eye. Oh God, I thought, please don’t let him be cognizant right now. This is already going to haunt me. Just then his mouth moved wordlessly, and I hurled everything I had ever eaten in my entire life. My guts screamed as I evacuated my innards. When there was nothing left my body looked for more, dry heaves threatened to rip loose every muscle in my rib cage, and still his mouth moved. God please forgive me! The crowd was going nuts; they apparently liked good old-fashioned beheadings.
I couldn’t sleep for a week, every time I closed my eyes Shawn’s head would haunt my dreams and every so often in my five minute dozes before I awoke screaming and sweating, words would actually come out of his mouth. Words of blame, of acrimony. Tension in the Talbot household was at an all time high. I wasn’t sleeping and we had doubled our population. Needless to say I wasn’t the most popular guy to half of those women. Some of the girls that had been with me for a while were actually concerned that I might be in some danger from one or more of Shawn’s women. And then bless her heart, Debbie snapped out of her self-induced fog to bring some sanity to the household.
“Quit your bitching!” she yelled to the newcomers semi-huddled in the corner of the room. “Your champion…”
“Shawn!” one of the girls yelled.
“Shawn, he wanted Mike to win, he gave himself up to protect all of you! He knew he wasn’t going to win and he didn’t want to lose to any one of those other animals still out there. What do you think would have happened to all of you if he lost to Durgan?” Most of the girls shuddered; some were still not letting go of their anger. “Did you not all watch the battle? He gave himself up willingly. He wanted Mike to protect all of you, all of us.”
“He didn’t have to kill him!” one of the first girls to be in Timmins’ harem called out, she was a pretty little thing with short blonde hair; her name was Karina.
“And what then?” Deb yelled. “You saw the guards, they would have killed them both, without blinking. And do you know what they do to spoils with no champion? They kill them! They just bring them out to the center of the arena and mow them down. End of story. So we will quit all of this in-house bickering and we will move forward. I’m sorry Shawn died, from what I could tell he looked like a decent person.”
“He was!” the same little blond cried out.
“But these aren’t decent times, but Shawn did the most decent and selfless thing he could for you and us. He sacrificed himself so that all of us stood a better chance of staying alive. And right now girls, that’s what it’s all about.” I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house, I retired to my room as both sets of women got into the middle of the room and had a huge group hug and cry fest. I had nothing left, I was tapped. I think I had heaved every possible emotion left in me. I slept for three straight days and not once did Shawn Timmins intrude on my thoughts.
Unfortunately for me, Timmins’ selflessness ended up hurting me. In his willingness to let me kill him, the aliens felt that I had not lived u
p to my ranking and demoted me to 25th, not that it truly mattered. Out of the 38 of us that were still alive none of my remaining battles were going to be easy. But I had another month or so to prepare.
CHAPTER 25
Washington DC – Pentagon
“Do you think this is a viable plan?” the President asked his Chiefs of Staff.
“Sir we don’t know if it is, but it is the only plan that we have,” answered one of the President’s more liked advisors. He was Dr. David Witherdrot, the Chief of Homeland Security. “Sir, we have heard nothing further from the ship since they took those hostages almost six months ago. To do nothing makes us look weak. Especially to an increasingly hostile and paranoid population. For good or bad, we need to do something.”
“Yes, I understand the need to do something,” the President uttered. “I’ve got pressure from groups that didn’t even exist half a year ago. I just don’t feel confident that this is the course I wish to take.”
“Mr. President, we understand your concerns, but we feel that this shuttle is our best offensive weapon.”
“And what of the hostages?” the President asked.
“Sir?” asked the Chief of the Military.
