Impact (18 page)

“You did great,” I said.

Before she could say another word, a man with a skull tattoo across his neck grabbed her arm and led her away.

I knew I didn’t belong in that ring, because I wasn’t an expert fighter or boxer. I was terrified, and it made me even more of a nervous wreck to fight in front of a crowd. I could only rely on what I’d learned from Nick, Lucas, Val, and the few tips and tactics I’d gleaned from the trainers Kirk had provided me. As Marcus entered the ring, I grew even more nervous. He looked far more rugged, tough, fit, and intimidating than I remembered him.

“He survived the games at Kingsville and has left the bodies of thousands of zombies in his wake. Hailing from Fairport, at six feet and weighing in at 170 pounds, Zombie Slayer!” the announcer said.

I wasn’t quite six feet or 170 pounds, and I wasn’t sure I’d killed thousands of zombies, but the crowd seemed to buy it and cheered me on.

“And in this corner, at six-six and weighing in at 220 pounds, hailing from Detroit, Cut Throat!” the announcer said. “He holds a mixed martial arts record twenty wins and two losses, ten by knockout.”

Sighing deeply, I got into a good boxing stance, bending my knees to put power into my punches. I held my hands up, with my left hand in front. I kept my elbows in, preparing to throw an uppercut with my dominant hand.

“Cut Throat is the favorite,” a man in the audience shouted. “He’s supposed to win.”

I was sure Marcus had made the whole story up, trying to tell them what they wanted to hear. The people favored Marcus because of his embellished story; he’d told me he knew only a few martial arts. I didn’t really want to fight him, but I knew I had to, and the exaggeration made me even more determined to take down my foe.

Marcus started dancing around with a scowl on his face. I started to throw jabs to test his defenses. He wasn’t bad and had a few good moves, but I knew I’d steamroll him in the end. 

He eyed me up and down. “I’m comin’ for you, Zombie Slayer,” he shouted. “You don’t have a gun, crowbar, or baseball bat to fight me. It’s
mano a mano
out here!”

“I save weapons for zombies,” I said. “All I need for you are these,” I yelled, holding up my fists.

The crowd cheered.

Staying true to character, Marcus said, “I’m gonna give you the pounding of your life, make you feel what those dead-heads feel when you destroy them.”

“Bring it on!” I said. I glared at him and got in my fighting stance. Breathing deeply, I lowered my head slightly and stared him down. I kept my feet on the ground so I’d be ready to attack, defend, or move away.

Marcus jumped around a lot and I knew that was a huge waste of energy. We fought in a flurry of jabs, straight and hook punches, and uppercuts.

It didn’t take long for me to grasp Marcus’s fighting style. He loved body punches and delivering left hooks to the bottom of my ribs, hitting me in the liver, as I’d advised Jackie to do. He was going for a body shock knockout, trying to paralyze my legs. I blocked them as best as I could, but I knew his m.o. Even if he couldn’t get a liver shot in, he could wear me down by hitting me round after round, because a sore gut and bruised ribs made it difficult to breathe. On top of that, I was still reeling a bit from that horrible punch from big Anthony. 

Marcus cocked his hand back and came at me in a wide semicircular, looping motion, like a hook but with more force.
Idiot!
I thought.
The haymaker’s only good if your opponent is weak and tired, unable to counter
. His technique was poor, and I was able to easily counter his move. I went at him with a left jab, followed by a straight right, then a left hook. I went into pit bull mode and got right in his face, unleashing a barrage of punches. Marcus dropped to the canvas, but he refused to give up and quickly sprang back to his feet. We then slugged it out for nine more rounds.

When the bell signaled the start of the next round, Marcus lunged at me. I sidestepped, but he still nailed me really hard with a violent blow to the ribcage, sending a wave of sudden pain through me. He smirked and jabbed again at my midsection. The guy was relentless and came at me like an animal. I threw counterpunches while dodging his attempts to knock me down. I slipped under his right cross. Then, stepping sideways, I swung my fist around and plunged it right into his gut. I threw fast punches and managed to avoid most of his attacks.

He was sneaky and, in a flash, threw me into the ropes. The crowd went wild as he stood in the center of the ring, gloating as if he’d already won. I came back hard, but he threw powerful punches to my face and body. He started to get the better of me, landing a punch that cut me over my left eye.

As the blood trickled down my face, it lit a fire. I’d never been so determined to win, and my temper kicked in. I thought about what they were doing to me, to Jackie, to Asia, and even what they’d done to Eva, and something in me snapped. My pain was suddenly infused with rage, as if he’d unleashed a beast within. Former celly or not, I was ready to take his head off, and when he smiled arrogantly at me, I went ballistic, feeding him a steady diet of jabs.

I could tell by his heavy and labored breathing that he was tired. Fatigue was overwhelming him and I’d use that to my advantage. I was tired, too, but I was determined to box my way through exhaustion.

It was time to end it once and for all. I refused to lose my first fight, because I needed Kirk and his goons to stupidly be on my side. I lowered my left arm and cocked it back. I also stepped back with my rear leg and twisted my torso to the left. I kept my left arm firmly locked at a ninety-degree angle and aimed high at his jaw. Then I went in for the kill. I struck with an explosive, pulverizing, destructive thrust, throwing my entire body into the mix.

My killer left hook hit him hard, connecting perfectly with the side of his sweaty jaw. The resulting head snap caused a knockout, and he fell through the ropes, seeing stars and dreaming.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“Lights out!” a man screamed.

“He went down like a Redwood in the forest!” a woman shouted.

“The Zombie Slayer jabbed his way to victory! We love him!” another screamed.

The crowd cheered like crazy, chanting my new name. If I had sold autographs that day, I would have been a post-apocalyptic millionaire.

“Whoa!” the announcer said. “That was lethal!”

The crowd screamed and cheered even louder.

“That was the prettiest punch I’ve seen in a while!” the announcer continued. “Folks, did you see that? So well executed, a sharp, quick snap at the perfect angle. It was precise and gorgeous, a real Mike Tyson special. Your winner is...” He walked over and held my arm in the air. “Zombie Slayer!”

Kirk climbed under the ropes, ran to me, and held my other hand up high. “Everyone,” he said, “give it up for our new rising star!”

The crowd roared and cheered my victory.

With sweat and trickles of blood running down my face, I pasted on a fake smile. Being forced to pound somebody like that just wasn’t right, because neither I nor Marcus had signed on for it, but we had to do what we had to do. That was the key to survival in the cold, new world. 

D
ays passed, but they would not let me see Jackie; they said I had to focus on training and that a woman would be too distracting. They did finally let me see Asia but only for a short time. Being controlled in such a way, as if I was some sort of convict, fueled my rage. Inside, I was angry, but I worked hard to control it.
It’s only temporary,
I told myself time and time again.
We’ll get out of here soon enough—all of us.
I threw my anger into my daily morning runs, hours of weightlifting and sit-ups, sparring with other fighters, and skipping rope to improve my footwork and rhythm.

I played their game and sucked up to them in an attempt to get out of there alive. In time, everyone came to know who I was, and they stopped to talk to me when I was escorted to the cafeteria to eat. In exchange for earning their trust, I was given a bit of freedom, allowed to go outside, into the fenced-in courtyard.

As the snow melted beneath the bright sunshine, I stared up at the blue sky and contemplated how I’d ended up there, separated from all my loved ones. “They don’t even know where we are,” I muttered. “I bet they think Z’s gang killed us and buried our bodies in some unknown location, dumped us where nobody will ever find us.” I knew better though. I knew Nick wouldn’t just let me disappear, and I was sure he wouldn’t leave Fairport until he at least had a body to bury.

A few guys were walking around, but I didn’t know any of them. I thought it best to keep to myself, because I had no idea if the strangers had volunteered to fight or if they’d been kidnapped. Like Eva, lots came voluntarily, in exchange for food, shelter, and peace of mind. What they didn’t know was, cross Kirk and they’d just be fodder for the zombies in the field. 

One man continued staring me up and down, checking me out. As he did, I recalled what Jackie had said about being shanked. I watched him closely as he weaved in and out of the others in the group who’d just walked out into the yard. As I peered more closely at him, recognition hit, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. There, just across the courtyard from me, was Z’s brother, Jim, the guy who’d roughed me up back at that camp. Asia and I had barely escaped from his clutches.

“You!” he shouted, pointing at me. “You left me for dead back at that hospital. But my friends carried me out to safety.”

“Your brother left me for dead in a burning warehouse full of zombies. And you were going to kill me back at your camp.”

He shot me the most evil look. 

I clenched my fists. I’d take him on if he insisted. Yeah, he was bigger than me, but the bigger they are, the harder they fall. There was nowhere to run, so all I could do was stand my ground as he approached. 

“Your friend killed my brother, boy, and now you’re gonna pay! I went into that danger zone after you because I didn’t want Claire to be smashed in all that mess. I didn’t wanna be denied my chance to kill her with my own bare hands!”

I cocked a brow. “Seriously? You dragged your team in there, risked their lives, just to settle some stupid vendetta? You got something against women? Because you roughed Asia up when she was tied up and defenseless. What kind of coward does that, especially to a girl?”

In a flash, he tackled me and took me to the ground. I dug my heels in and pushed my weight against my head, arching my back. He growled, lying on top of me, chest to chest. I wedged my hand into the space between us, just enough to give me the leverage I needed to turn. As I did that, I flipped one leg over the other, then used my legs to twist my hips. I also twisted my torso, and as soon as I corkscrewed my shoulders free, I shoved him and scrambled to my feet.

We now had an audience as everyone gathered in a frenzy of cheering and shouting. I was pounded by a flurry of blows as he pummeled me from my head to my ribs. He grabbed me, turned, and threw me over his shoulder. I landed on the ground, dazed until I felt the stomp of his boot in my chest, knocking the breath out of me.

In a blur, a dozen security guards rushed in and separated us. I couldn’t even explain my side of the story because I couldn’t talk.

“I want to fight Dean,” Jim shouted. “Put him in the ring with me. I’ll destroy him! He’s mine!”

Eva helped me up and walked me away from the incident, back to my dorm room, where a security guard opened the door for us. I swayed to the left, and she helped me get my balance. “Lie down,” she said, leading me to the bed. 

“No bed,” I insisted. “I’m fine.”

“Why did that guy attack you like that?”

“It’s personal,” I said, standing.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, and he’s a little pissed at me.”

“A little? It looked like he wanted to kill you.”

“All right. Maybe a lot.”

“What happened?”

“He blames me for his brother’s death.”

She threw her arms up. “Great.”

“I didn’t kill anyone. My friend Claire killed him in self-defense. He hates Claire for it. Since Asia is her best friend and Jackie is her cousin, I’m sure they’re in danger too. He’s as crazy as Z.”

“Z? That psycho you mentioned before?”

“Yes. He’s his brother. How in the world did he end up here?”

“He was kidnapped the same day you were, but they put him in a different van. I’m guessing he was fighting against you guys at the shootout.”

“His buddies killed Max, the leader of Fairport.”

“Bad blood. Nice. Kirk needs to know so he can take precautions to keep the guy from killing you.”

“Him killing me? He’s the one who needs protection, because if I get my hands on him, I’m gonna rip his throat out. He’ll pay for what he’s done to all of us, for what he did to Max. If he wants to fight me, it’ll be the last time he fights anybody.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Forget about revenge. You’ve gotta focus on escape. You might know a lot of moves, but you’re not invincible. If you get yourself killed, how are we going to get out of here?”

“I have to take him out,” I said. “You’ve got some pull with the guards. Talk one of them into letting me go find the jerk.”

She shook her head. “Not a chance. We’ve got to get our escape plan in order. Besides, Kirk is bringing back some kind of prized fighter today, and you might want to keep your mind on that. He’s beyond impressive. And he’ll keep Kirk focused on him and not you.”

“And he came here voluntarily?” I asked.

“From what I understand, yes.”

“Why?”

“Same reason a lot of us did. He lost everyone, and he’s searching for a home. Kirk found him with a gun in his mouth.”

“A killer on suicide watch. Great.”

“When Kirk offered him solace here, he signed right up.”

“Will they put him through any of those crazy tests?”

“Yep. And the guy passed with flying colors. He and Kirk really clicked, hit it off.”

“Psychos of a feather, I guess. At least they didn’t kidnap him and he’s here on his own free will.”