Flesh Worn Stone (14 page)

“Okay…Mr. Brando…I was just in a Game.”

“You were just in a Game,” he interrupted again, annoyed. “And you broke your nose. You thought, since you were finally someone, that you’d come here and I’d fix that ugly excuse for a nose, right?”

“Well, I was hoping you’d do something, yeah,” Steven agreed.

“And you thought you’d just waltz right in, huh? Get seen right away, or something like that?”

“You’re the doctor, right?”

“I’m the only thing that passes for one here, yeah, but this isn’t the Mayo clinic. Your nose isn’t serious, and even if it was, there’s a wait.”

“But I won a Game…”

“And so did they,” he said, pointing to the three people sitting on the bench who were doing their utmost to ignore the exchange. “Hank there has had that case of malaria so long he ought to be dead from it by now. Isn’t that right, Hank?”

The older man had two vertical slashes on his forehead, a sign of winning two games, and nodded in agreement. “Yes, sir.”

“And he didn’t waltz right in. Well, he did, but only to get on that list,” the vet said, pointing to a clipboard hanging by the entrance. “And then he waited six months…”

“Eight,” Hank interrupted.

“Eight months to be seen. I still can’t believe you’re alive, Hank. I wish I could have seen you sooner. We might have been able to do something before you went and ruined your meat.”

The big man shrugged, a look of
What can you do?
across his face, and it took several seconds before Steven realized what the vet was talking about. Since the man’s condition had progressed so far, his body was useless for consumption by the community. If they ate him, like the black corpses on the table, they’d probably infect the entire Cave.

“Tell you what,” the vet started. “You can get on the list or you can just reset your nose yourself. If you wait until I can get to it, I’ll have to re-break it and start over. Or you can just leave it alone. I always thought a twisted up, gnarled nose gave a man’s face a certain amount of character.”

“I…okay.” Steven just didn’t know what to say.

“Now get the hell out of here before you catch something and ruin your meat too.”

* * *

The ceremony following the game had all the air of a football team winning the Super Bowl. There was music and dancing, and the cauldrons were all going into overdrive, their contents rich with noodles, vegetables, and chunks of meat both from the garbage and from the four dead bodies that were lined up behind Block’s throne. The meat was already starting to rot, and flies circled around like angry buzzards. They’d have to eat it quickly or it would go bad. Block approached him through the crowd.

“Welcome to the Cave,” he told him kindly, hand outstretched.

“Can you guys not talk to us before we win a game?” Steven asked, while ignoring the proffered hand and with no small amount of disgust. “It might have been nice for someone to say hi, hello, or fuck you when we got here.”

“It is our way, but it not necessarily because you won the Game that I talk to you. Once a person has been here a year or more, even without winning the Game, they are integrated into the community,” Block told him. “Also, if you lose a Game, yet live, you are also integrated.”

“Though punished like the man out in the Cage.”

“Something like that. Look, I don’t make the rules, I just play by them.”

“Who does make the rules?” Steven asked, enraged. “I’d like to see them.”

“Then win four more Games and you can go to the Castle. But none of that matters right now. I just need to know your and your friend’s names.”

“You don’t already?”

“Quite frankly, no. I try not to pay attention to those I think are going to fail and eventually fill the pot. It saves on heartache and whatnot if I don’t attach emotion to your eventual demise.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Steven said, his anger fading. He didn’t think it was the big Samoan’s fault that he was here, nor was the man responsible for the rules of the Cave. If Jackson and his apparent age were any indication, along with the graffiti on the entrance to the Cave, this place had been around for a long, long time. “My name is Steven. The big black man is Darius.”

“Steven and Darius,” Block replied, rolling the names around on his tongue as if he were tasting a fine wine. “Okay, I have it. You’ll come to the stage when I call you.” It was an order, not a request, and Steven agreed, though he wasn’t looking forward to the scarring process required to put the mark on his head. Was there a chance of getting four more to go with it? he thought. And if so, would he be able to take Rebecca home with him?

Steven nodded in agreement and stepped away from the big man as he turned to the crowd.

“Brothers and sisters,” Block began, his men whistling for quiet and attention, “this morning we celebrate not only a successful Game, but the start down the path of rebirth for two of our new brothers. We welcome Darius and Steven to the Cave, both of which defeated our brothers and sisters.” He pointed to the bodies behind him. “And because of the sacrifices of Helen, Jacob, Martin, and Lee, we will eat well for days to come. The Game has been good to us.”

The crowd cheered and people slapped Steven and Darius on the back, cheering for both of them.

“Come forward, Steven,” Block bellowed to be heard over the crowd.

Steven stepped up hesitantly, but Block was quick, slashing down on his forehead before he got the chance to be scared. The cut was quick and neat, but it stung like hell, reminding him of his other bruises, abrasions, and cuts, along with his broken nose. He figured that if he lived through the infections, he was bound to have a fighting chance at another Game.

“You did well for someone only days here,” Block said, grinning. “And I’m honored to welcome you into the Cave.”

Steven nodded and stepped to the side as Darius stepped up. Just as Block was about to slash his mark into his forehead, Darius caught his hand. He could just barely hear the whisper, but he heard it all the same.

“I’m going to run this place,” Darius told the man. “And I’m going to kill you.”

He released the hand and let Block, visibly shaken, make the mark. He turned to the crowd and roared, hands above his head, and they ate up every bit of it. He stepped up to the cauldron and took a bowl from one of Block’s remaining men, scooped up a huge bowl full, and screamed again at the crowd, who screamed right back, cheering.

Steven didn’t like the look on Block’s face, thinking the dark man was turning pretty red, and tried to melt back into the crowd. Block stopped him by jerking back his jumpsuit.

“Don’t you want to eat?”

“No, I don’t want to eat the man you made me kill.”

“I didn’t make you kill him. You had a choice.”

“Kill or be killed? That’s not much of a choice.”

“It’s still a choice.”

Steven shrugged free, knowing that Block wouldn’t do anything to him while he was on the crowd’s good side. He walked away from the cauldron and back to where Rebecca and Mia waited.

* * *

Darius was riding high, higher than ever been before. The act of killing three people so quickly and so elegantly had been an adrenaline rush in itself, but the reaction of the people of the Cave when he’d murdered three of their friends was simply exhilarating. There hadn’t been animosity, as he’d expected from killing those who’d been there longer than he had. No, he was cheered equally as if he’d been there all his life. The Game was the great equalizer of the Cave, putting him on the same level as anyone else there, even Block. There was no racism, no judging of his past. In the Game, all men really where created equal. He’d never had such a rush, even with drugs or booze, like he’d had standing there, in front of what were soon to be
his
people, hands raised over his head and screaming bloody murder right back at them. He was sure that was how a rock star or a sports player standing in front of thousands of people had to feel. He fed off their energy and it was good.

Even afterwards, staring down Block at the Marking, he felt powerful and, for a moment as he felt Block’s wrist tremble and saw the look of fear on his face, he knew that he could beat the man. It wasn’t an issue of
if
, it was only a matter of
when
.

He sat at the edge of the elevated stone platform, eating the bowl of soup he’d snatched away to the cheers of the crowd. He’d made sure to get plenty of meat in it and wolfed it down greedily, half tempted to go and get another bowl. There was nothing Block could do about it, for tonight anyway, and there was plenty of meat.

Instead, he wandered to the back of Block’s royal area beneath the ship and pissed, letting the flow of the
ad hoc
band’s music flow over him and trying to forget where he was.

He didn’t get to forget for long as he saw John climbing the stage, whispering in Block’s ear, and then leading him to the rear of the area, where the throne was. The only thing separating him from them was the throne.                

Darius stood still, listening to the conversation.

“And exactly how am I supposed to know you are who you say you are?” Block was saying. “Sure, you can come here and tell me that your father is one of the richest men on the planet, but it doesn’t actually mean much. Even if it were true, it means even less. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but money doesn’t do any good here. We had a few hundreds once years ago, but they were as scratchy as toilet paper. The bales of marijuana that washed up with the money were a million times more valuable.”

“But you will not always be here,” John said, using exactly the same argument he had with Darius. “One day you’ll be off this island, and, if you care to be, you could be very wealthy when you leave.”

“I will already be wealthy from winning the Game, and the wealth I’ll earn through rebirth is not something you can ever buy with mere money. You have to earn this, you have to earn five marks. Can you buy these?” Block said, lowering his head so that John could see the four marks.

“No, I cannot, nor can I buy my way out of here. I realize that, and I understand it. I even envy you to a certain extent, and your marks. But the old adage ‘money can’t buy you happiness’ is flawed. It can buy a lot of happiness.”

Block turned over the wooden chit in his hand, very similar to the one John had given Darius. “And you want to pay me to help you, huh?”

“Something like that. I know you’re about done here. I know that, when you leave, you’ll return to the real world. And I know that when you leave, you’ll need someone to replace you.”

Block laughed out loud. “Yeah, you think so? And you think you—a newcomer and not a marked one—will walk right in and take my position?”

“I have experience managing people, if nothing else. I assure you that my family has been doing it for generations. People are like cattle; they simply need to be herded.”

Block counted through the chits in his hand. “So you’ll give me a million dollars to find your dad, tell him your situation, and then put you in charge?”

“Yes.”

“Nope,” Block laughed. “It isn’t happening. I don’t care what you were before you got here. You’re not shit here, and your daddy can’t write checks to get you out of this place. That might have worked out there, in the other world, but not here. Only you can do that, with these,” he said, fingering the marks on his head. “And the only way to get these is to win.”

“Then give me the chits back.” Darius couldn’t hear the anger in John’s voice, but he knew it was lurking just beneath the calm facade.

“No, I don’t think so. The boys will think they’re hilarious. Hell, I might pass them out as party favors. We’re always in need of a good laugh around here.”

“I’m going to kill you,” John said coldly and calmly, shocking Darius with an air of aggression he hadn’t heard before. “I’m going to kill you and I’m going to run this place. And when I do, you won’t be remembered fondly. I’ll punish the mere mention of your name with the pot.”

Block’s laugher filled the Cave. “That is rich, but I like it. Keep that thought and hold it…let it burn right through your heart. It’s the only way you’ll survive here.”

Darius tried not to laugh aloud and be heard by the two. He couldn’t blame John for hedging his bets. He would have done similar in his situation, but the absolute rejection was hilarious. And he knew why Block was keeping the chits. If John was being honest and was who he said he was, they could be very valuable for someone that was one mark away from leaving the Cave. Still, he felt a little hurt. After all the buttering up the man had done, he had still offered Block nine-hundred-thousand more dollars than he had offered Darius.

No big deal, he thought, waiting for Block to move away before exiting. The price of John’s insurance and Darius’ cooperation had just gone up

* * *

Amanda sat near Rebecca and Mia with her haul of three half-eaten, black and slimy bananas, a half a medium-cooked steak, and two apples that didn’t look bad at all, and shoved the food into her mouth as fast as she could. And still her stomach screamed for more.

“You need to slow down,” Rebecca told her. “Or you’re going to make yourself sick.”

She couldn’t respond as her mouth was full of food, and she knew the older woman was right, but she didn’t care. She’d be sick, if that’s what it took, and deal with the rest later.

Mia sat picking dirt and gunk out of a plastic bowl with a Carnival Cruise lines log on the side as if were normal. She looked up at Rebecca much like a child would a mother, and smile.

“Be sure to get all that mold, honey. It will make you sick but the oatmeal is good for you.”

Finally having gorged herself to the point she wasn’t, for the moment, starving, she looked at Rebecca and said. “You seem to be adjusting to all this okay.”

“What choice do I have?”

She was right, of course. None of them had a choice, but still, in the span of a few days, Rebecca had gone from a grieving mother to a stoic, stereotypical strong female. The transformation was amazing, and the care and love that she lavished on the little girl was amazing. Amanda thought, much like Steven, that the relationship with Mia was a proxy for the loss of her boys.