900 Miles: A Zombie Novel (23 page)

“Chop,
chop, men.” Seven guards entered the room. Despite a slight struggle, we were forced into handcuffs, and taken from our respective cells.

As
we left the room itself, our cellblock guard winked at Kyle while he passed.  Kyle gave him a large smile. Then, without hesitation, he snapped his head forward connecting with the guard’s nose. The guard dropped to the ground screaming through his tears.

“You broke my bloody nose!”

Another guard punched Kyle in the back. Without flinching, he looked down at the bleeding guard and said, “Sorry about that, princess.” In any other situation, I would have laughed my ass off. I could always count on Kyle to settle a score.

We were led past the communication center on our way to the arena. With each step forward, I could feel my heart beat increasing. Unfortunately, my knees were getting weaker. The crowd was really hyped up again, seriously into whatever they were watching.

I have been to games before: football, baseball, basketball and just about every other professional sport out there. Never have I heard a crowd hitting the pitch that this one had. They were living it up...whatever it was.

Eight PM blinked on
every red LED clock we passed in the manila hallways.

We were taken to a holding cell that already housed two other people. The first was not an unattractive woman, wearing a half ripped red skirt and a
skintight white top that showed more cleavage than I would have expected. She made eye contact with Kyle as we walked in. According to the odds, she was my competition for the first to die in battle.

The second person was a smaller man of Asian heritage. He was wearing loose black cargo pants and a black tank top. He was sitting in a corner with his legs crossed, deep in meditation. He didn’t open his eyes or even acknowledge our presence.

The five of us couldn’t see anything through the bars. The arena was to our backs, but we could hear the crowd’s roaring coming in like waves, assumingly, every time someone died in the arena.

“We have to stick together. It’s the only way we’ll survive,” Kyle said hastily, looking over the contestants. Nothing from the Asian, but the woman nodded
in agreement.

“I shouldn’t even be in this place,” she growled. “All I did was tell that son of a bitch that I wasn’t going to be his slave.”

We all have our reasons for being in this cell, I thought.  None of them was getting us out.  I listened intently to every scream. I was soaked with sweat, and my hands were shaking ever so slightly. Squeezing my fists together, I brought them down to my sides, trying to push the shakes out of my system.

We heard a terrified high pitch screech ring through the halls of Avalon.
A final deafening cheer roared out from the crowd, and then silence.

The silence was worse than the screams.

Just as I started to go down on my knees, the guards opened the cell door, and escorted us out towards the entrance of the Arena. The microphone made noise, and then a voice boomed out.

“Fellow Avalonians, now
that
was a show!” It was Gordon. “These criminals fought valiantly. They had their chance at redemption, but sadly, Lady Justice leaned away from freedom this evening.”

We turned a final corner and came up to a set of steel bars that overlooked the entire arena.  We watched as three black troopers were wrangling two
Zs with poles that wrapped around their necks, and escorting them back out of the stadium.  It was a vulgar version of Animal Control. There was a mess of blood and body parts strewn across the linoleum flooring that some women were busy mopping up.

“I have exciting news, however,” Gordon continued
enthusiastically, “tonight’s festivities are
far
from over.  We have a special treat in store for all of you.” He paused to gain momentum.

“A double feature!”
The crowd went wild again. Standing there facing my doom, I cursed them all under my breath.

“Five fighters, each who have broken one of Avalon’s three sacred rules, are here to see if Lady Justice is on their side. Facing these criminals, are our newest additions to the Arena. I’d like to introduce the new…” He opened his arms wide to address the crowd, who leaned forward in anticipation. Gordon took in a deep breath and bellowed into the microphone.

“Death Armor!”

The crowd went insane as Zombie Michael and two other
Zs dressed in full death armor charged into the area. They were held by chains attached to their leatherneck braces and in turn, attached to a pulley system on a far wall. The troopers holding the opposite ends were in control.

Each of the
Zs in death armor paced wildly back and forth, trying to run to the walls.  As soon as they would get close, the troopers would yank on the chains, stopping the Zs in their tracks, and in some cases, pulling them off their feet all together.  It became a game that the crowd laughed over.

Looking around the arena, it was smaller than I imagined.
Hiding places would be non-existent. We were in a giant indoor room, which did in fact, appear to be the trade show floor of the hotel, just as Mr. Muscle described. The arena walls were circular in nature and spanned maybe three hundred feet in diameter. In the middle, were three white square columns that supported the room, so it wasn’t completely open space.

Kyle got my attention, and nodded towards them.

“See that?”

I looked closer and amongst the smears of black-red blood, I noticed weapons sticking into the columns. Lower to the ground were simple tools like wooden poles and small clubs. The higher up however, we started to notice a deadlier arsenal including metal spears, swords and spiked maces. It would take two people, one propping the other up to get to
them.

The crowd seemed to fade into the background as I spied Gordon, straight across from us. Perched up on his throne at the tip of the stage, he was holding the microphone and dressed in a white, Roman toga with a green crown. In fact, all of the Elites sitting above were dressed in white togas.

“This is fucking sick,” Kyle spat as he noticed.

The
crowds around the fence, the commoners, were dressed in torn jeans, ripped tee shirts, skirts, or whatever they were probably wearing the day the world ended.  Dirty and broken down, these people were seemingly just as sick as the Elites were.  All of them cheering for the death of their fellow man. It was hard to imagine so many of them would just go along with it.

Following the herd would be the death of us.

After all, TV was gone; what the hell else was there to do?  Nothing was mundane anymore.  Every action, every decision had life or death written on it.  It hit me right then and there.  This is how Gordon controlled the masses, making sure they were entertained, giving them something to root for, bet on, to be happy about.  I felt vomit hit the back of my throat, but managed to keep it at bay, the burn going all the way back down.

There were also a few women up there with the Elites as well.  Matching their male counterparts, they were dressed in white cloth
, but it stopped at their waist, leaving their breasts fully exposed.  They were going from throne to throne, pouring wine and lighting cigars.

It was clear
now; this is how many of the women escaped working outside with the commoners. Perhaps this was what the female gladiator in our little imprisoned group was talking about when she said she refused to be a slave.

In his highest and mightiest tone, Gordon continued to drone on.  He
announced each of us, along with our crimes.  Mr. Muscle was escorted into the arena as he was introduced. Our host reminded the crowd about the killing of an Elite in an earlier Arena battle.

“We also have our first female gladiator,” Gordon shouted as she was hefted into the arena.
“She neglected her womanly duties here at Avalon, and viciously cut the genitals from her husband as he slept!”

“That’s not true!
Liar
!” she screamed.  Her voice was completely muted by the crowd as they all booed in unison.

“Next we have our little Asian friend, who fancies himself as a martial arts force to be reckoned with. He tried to live here for free, deciding that he’d rather sleep all day than work alongside all of you dear, diligent men and women, who are building a better society for us to live in.”

Who knows what the truth was concerning the Asian.  He didn’t flinch at the accusation, and appeared to be meditating even as he was shoved into the middle of the arena.  For all we knew, he just simply wasn’t the right color to be at Avalon.  Looking around the room, I didn’t see anyone but white males sitting in the Elite section.

Chauffer stood up next to Gordon, looking as if he turned part shark, greedily glaring at Kyle and
me.

“And finally, I’d like to take a moment to introduce two newcomers to Avalon.  These two idiots thought they could get away with beating my good friend, Mr. Chauffer, here to near death, just to try to steal his tickets to Avalon.  They actually showed up, thinking we wouldn’t notice that they each have full heads of
hair,” he said with a giant smile.  The crowd burst into a hysterical laughter at the joke.  Chauffer shot Gordon a look that said he was less than amused.

All five of us were in the Arena now. 
The Elites and commoners alike were amped up, and ready to go.  I was jumping up and down in place, getting my blood going.  I was preparing mentally for battle.  I was preparing for war.

I could never have
prepared what was about to go down.

I say, we put their little society to the test.

“
Let the games begin!
” Gordon’s voice rang though the microphone speakers.

The troopers surrounding us in the arena dispersed and retreated to the safety behind the gate to our rear.  Another gate opened at the far side of the arena, and ten
Zs stumbled out towards us.

The three chained Death Armor
Zs were still locked up securely, but going absolutely berserk.  The Troopers holding the chains were being pulled forward, and it was taking multiple men to hold them back.  They weren’t going to release them right away.

All five of us advanced towards the two closest columns. Kyle stood with his back against one of them, while I hoisted the woman up onto his shoulders. She stood tall enough to grab a spear and a large wooden mallet from above her. Unable to hold the heavy wood, she pried it loose, letting it drop to the ground in front of me.

Reaching down, I placed both hands around the oversized handle. All I could think of was that this was a larger version of my hammer. It was meant for me. A feeling of comfort ran through my body, giving me a much needed sense of confidence.

The woman grabbed the spear, and dropped to the floor. Kyle pulled an eye level wooden club from the column.

At the same time, the Asian and Mr. Muscle were working on another pillar across from us.  I watched in amazement as the Asian took a running start and ran towards Mr. Muscle, who was crouched over with his hands clasped in the shape of a stirrup.  As he reached Mr. Muscle, the Asian strategically placed his foot in the clasped hands and took a leap, propelling upward. He grabbed a sword and a mace, before flipping back down to the ground with the grace of an acrobat.

I should have noticed it
right away.  They worked really well together.  Too well for guys who just met.  With a series of nods, and pointed expressions, they managed to pull down two of the most fierce weapons in the place and retreat towards us in record time.  No time to think about it.  I was just glad to have them in the fight.

The five of us, armed and regrouped, stood as a solid line facing the oncoming swarm.  The crowd screamed for our blood. Amongst the madness, Kyle remained focused with the poise of a seasoned athlete competing in yet another game. It was as if time stood still. He looked out at the crowd and the approaching
Zs, then back at each one of us.

“I’m not afraid to die today,” Kyle stated boldly. “If it’s my time, then it’s my time. I can tell you one thing, though. I’m not going to die without a fight.” He raised his voice now.  Not in anger, not in distress. It was the voice of a man putting it all on the line, like a warrior rallying his fellow countrymen for the battle ahead.

“Let them throw everything they have at us. Let them throw us into this hellhole. I say, we put their little society to the test. I say,
we bring this whole fucking thing down!
” He ended in a bellow. As we acknowledged with our own wild cheers, the Asian broke from his trance, and made direct eye contact with Kyle, giving him one single nod. It was the most I ever saw him communicate with anybody. It spoke louder than any words I’d ever heard. Mr. Muscle was twisting his hands around the grip of his mace, the clinking of the chain barely heard. We were ready.

Kyle shouted for us to break into two parallel lines. The
Zs were twenty feet away.

No matter what the odds, no matter how bad the cards are stacked against you; a well-played strategy can give you the edge.