by Chris Sapp
“I’ll take the East,” said Webbed-feet, catching onto the plan.
“Yes, thank you,” said Blair, “and you two,” pointing at Crab Legs and Three Eyes, “will be with me on the South.” Kariah watched as Blair and his team of sacrifices set off through the forest towards the deadly oak tree.
“Blair!”she called when the thought of his imminent death got the best of her emotions. He stopped and looked back at her.
“Be careful,” she said.
“Of course, Lady Slade,” He gave her a wink that could have easily been a blown kiss in a different situation and then he turned and continued his journey towards the tree.
“As soon as you reach the drip line, run like hell towards the base of the tree,” Blair told the sacrifices. Cyclops, Pointy Ears, and Webbed-feet broke off from the group, so they could come at the tree from their appointed directions. Kariah realized she was holding her breath and she forced herself to exhale.
Webbed-feet was the first to reach the drip line and he charged in without even a hint of hesitation. Low hanging branches twisted and turned in pursuit of the blood gushing out of the wound in the slave’s thigh. Kariah was surprised by Webbed-feet’s agility as he managed to dodge the tree’s first two attacks. He was halfway to the base when a large limb swatted him from behind. The slave was impaled by two branches and died instantly. The tree limbs began to flail wildly as Cyclops and Pointy Ears passed under the drip line. Leaves swirled through the air. Screams of agony and splintering wood provided an eerie soundtrack for the darkening forest. Due to her perspective and the frenetic movement of the tree it was impossible for Kariah to see everything that was going on. She concentrated on Blair. He was in the drip line now and one wrong step could be fatal. The rapid footfalls of his hooves hammering against the ground was echoed by the beating of her heart against her chest. She heard a scream, followed by a broken body soaring through the air. She thought it might have been Pointy Ears but there was no way to be sure. The only thing she was sure of, was that it hadn’t been Blair. She gasped when one of the tree’s limbs swiped at the nuisances approaching from the South. The strike missed Blair but Three eyes was decapitated. His body fell and blood bubbled out of the frayed flesh of his neck.
Blair was three-quarters of the way to the base of the tree and Crab Legs was keeping stride with him. There were no signs of the hesitation she had displayed earlier. For the first time since Blair had announced his plan, Kariah allowed herself to hope. At the time, the plan had not only seemed desperate but impossible, but not now. Blair was so close. She could see him reaching into his satchel for the vial of neutralizing toxin. Blair was going to stop the berserk tree because that’s what Blair did. He came through. The tree struck and Blair vanished from Kariah’s view.
“Oh God! Blair!” she yelled. Kariah was charging towards the tree before she even realized what she was doing. Her hooves pounded the earth and her heart thumped in her chest. She passed under the drip line and found Blair laying on his side. She didn’t know how severe his injuries were but he didn’t have any branches protruding out his person so she took that as a good sign.
“Blair,” she breathed as she knelt along side him.
“Blair speak to me,” she begged.
“Kariah,” he rasped “You shouldn’t be here. You’re in danger.”
“And you’re hurt. I have to help you,” she countered. She grabbed him under the arms and tried to drag him to safety. But he was far too heavy. Damn! She couldn’t do this alone. She needed help. She looked around and saw that Crab Legs was miraculously still alive. She was standing at the base of the tree, the safest spot inside the drip line.
“Slave,” Kariah called, “come help me!”
“No,” Blair shouted.
“Yes,” Kariah said.
Crab Legs just stood there. Not knowing which order to follow.
“Kariah, listen to me. We have to destroy the tree. We can’t let Magnus burn the forest,” Blair said.
“I don’t care about that. All I care about is you,” she said. The urge to cry was almost overwhelming.
“Then take this and finish what we started,” Blair forced the vial into her hands, “I’ll get to safety. I promise.”
“Blair,” she pleaded.
“Go,” he ordered and then he began to crawl along the ground away from the tree. Steeling herself, she turned and faced the tree. Crab Legs having never gotten a clear order was still hiding near the trunk. Kariah gritted her teeth and raced towards the death dealing tree. She was halfway there when she saw the limbs began to twist in her direction. She didn’t know what else to do so she plowed forward.
She never made it.
The limb struck her hooves causing her to trip and fall. She landed hard on her side. The air rushed out of her lungs. She looked up and saw half a dozen sharp branches descending towards her. They would impale her before she reached the base. She only had one choice. Pushing herself up to a kneeling position she cocked back her arm and threw the vial as hard as she could at the base of the tree. It shattered into a thousand shiny pieces against the trunk. The blue liquid soaked into the bark instantly and the trunk splintered and cracked. Thick smoke billowed out of the fresh holes. Kariah glanced at the branches to see if they were still intent on killing her. They were. The blood oak would die but not before it took one final life..hers. She closed her eyes and waited for a death that never came. She expected to feel the sharp pain of angry tree branches piercing her skin. Instead she was knocked to the ground by something that was both hard and soft. For the second time in less than a minute she collided with the ground. She opened her eyes and saw that Crab Legs was laying on top of her. The slave had saved her life.
“My apologies Lady Slade,” said Crab Legs. “You were in danger.”
“Thank you,” Kariah said and then she embraced the slave in a deep hug. Above them the tree’s limbs split and smoked as Blair’s neutralizing toxin burned them from the inside out. The process wouldn’t be complete for another hour or so but the oak tree was dying. They’d done it. They’d destroyed the tree and saved the rest of the forest. Cheers began to erupt from the survivors standing outside the drip line.
They two women got to their feet and for the briefest of moments they stood as equals.
“I do fancy that new haircut, Lady Slade,” said a familiar voice. Kariah turned and saw Blair standing behind her. Despite a severe limp and the blood running down the side of his face, he was smiling. Of course he was.
“Blair,” Kariah rushed to his side and embraced him.
“I’m so glad you’re okay” she whispered, not wanting to let go of him but knowing that she had to unless she wanted to cause a scene.
“Thank you, Blair. You saved us,” she said forcing herself to release him.
“No, you did,” he said with another one of his signature smiles.
“Fine. We did,” she countered with a smile of her own.
AUGUSTO
THE CRUCIBLE GAMES were held once every quarter. Hosting duties rotated between members of the Morphagen Oder with each passing quarter. Slade Enterprises was hosting the next quarter, which explained why Augusto Valdez was sitting in a stadium on Centropolis. As chief administrator of the Crucible, it was his responsibility to ensure that every aspect of the event was successful. Centropolis’ stadium was beautiful even if it was only the third largest in the galaxy. The title of second largest, belonged to The Matador on Augusto’s home planet of Fahrenheit and the largest was the Terra Gigas Coliseum. Centropolis’s stadium could hold 240,000 spectators. But currently it held only three. Augusto was sandwiched between Nari and Maya. Twin elves and his girlfriends. During his reign as chief administrator of the Crucible, Augusto had promoted foot races, paw races, hoof races, hover races, even zero gravity races. But, the next quarter’s game would be his twentieth game and his five year anniversary to boot, so he wanted to give the audience something they'd never seen before.
A motorbike
race.
But not just any old boring motorbike race. A motorbike race on a raised track that wove through large columns that had rotating blades attached to them. If imminent death wasn't possible than it wasn't good enough for the crucible. No one had ever won the crucible but the games weren't rigged. Augusto's hand-picked team of stunt men designed and tested every obstacle. If they couldn't defeat it, then it was redesigned or shelved for a later date.
Augusto held his breath as his stunt team navigated their motorbikes along the track. All of the bikes were brand new but the designs were ancient and so was the technology. Gas powered motors and rubber tires that actually stayed on the ground instead of hovering in the air. His entire stunt team had baulked at the idea of using them for the games. No one thought it could be done and so far no one had, not even Deon his lead stuntman.
"How much longer, Auggie?" Nari whined. He knew she hated watching the obstacle trials. The only reason she came was to prove that she loved him more than Maya did. Maya actually enjoyed watching the trials, so it was easy for her to come. But since Nari hated them, she figured she must love him more if she was willing to endure something she hated. It was very sweet in a self-serving kind of way.
"Awhile. Why don't you read one of your digi-mags,” he suggested.
"I brought four and I've read them already."
"Text your friends, then."
"It's only ten in the morning. They're still asleep,” she countered.
"Why don't you paint your toenails?"
Nari's frown turned into a smile. "What color?"
"Uh...what's that shiny pink one called?"
"Pink diamond?” Nari guessed.
"Yeah, that's the one."
Nari rummaged through her purse in search of her pink diamond toenail polish. Augusto glanced at Maya. Her eyes were glued to the activity on the motorcycle track. If she heard Nari complaining she showed no sign of it. Other than their identical features the girls had absolutely nothing in common. Nari's hair was cropped short and dyed red where Maya's was blond and almost down to her waist. Maya only had her earlobes pierced. Nari had two piercings in each ear, a stud in her nose, one in her tongue, and one in her belly button. Maya didn't believe in tattoos. Nari had six. Most men couldn't handle dating two women at once, especially two women as different as Nari and Maya. But Augusto thought he was the luckiest Minotaur in the galaxy.
The gas motor whined as the first stuntman, a fellow Minotaur, came down the track and headed for the columns. Each column had one set of rotating blades. It was either eye level with the rider or level with the tires. The blades were four feet long. Same width as the track, so swerving around them wasn't an option. The blades were rotating at only half the speed they were capable of. They would raise the speed once someone successfully made it through. But if that didn’t happen in the next couple of days then the damn obstacle would be shelved.
The first set of blades were high and the Minotaur ducked as he passed under them. Augusto sighed. If the blades were rotating at regular speed, the Minotaur would've been decapitated. The entire stunt team made it past the first and second set of blades. But only half of them would still be on the track if the blades were spinning faster.
Rikon, an ogre, mistimed the third set of blades completely. The blade sliced the bike’s front fender and struck the tire hard enough to pop it up. Pieces of fiberglass and chunks of rubber flew everywhere. The bike somersaulted forward and Rikon was tossed into the air like a rag doll. His flailing body missed being cleaved neatly in half by mere seconds. Augusto watched as the ogre sailed over the edge of the track and plummeted thirty feet to the sparkling blue water below. The fall wasn’t likely to be fatal and currently there wasn’t anything inhabiting the water. Augusto made a mental note to change that. There should be something hazardous in the water. Electric eels, perhaps.
There were only eight total sets of blades and by the time the riders reached the last two, there were only two stuntmen remaining, Deon and Kash. Augusto wasn't surprised by Deon's performance. Deon was his most tenured stuntman and he was smart. He would make a great chief administrator one day. If he was patient enough to wait for it. Kash was showing a lot of promise, especially for an F.N.G or fucking new guy as the stunt team liked to call him. Just last week, the Quicksilver had been the first to conqueror the giant wasps obstacle, which was normally Rikon's specialty. Whichever stunt man completed an obstacle first got a bonus and bragging rights.
Deon and Kash successfully navigated past the next set of blades. They only had one more set to beat. The last section of track doubled in width before separating into two different tracks. The last column was positioned in the fork. Both riders, now riding side by side, were going full throttle.
The two competitors reached the last set of blades at the same time. The blade on Kash's side was high. He ducked down and made it through without a scratch. Deon's blade was low, but he had timed his entry almost perfectly. Almost. The blade clipped his back tire before he could get clear of the obstacle's reach. The tire blew. But remarkably Deon maintained control of the bike. It fishtailed and wobbled towards the edge of the track. Deon gunned it, launching himself and the bike into the air. The bike landed on the other track directly in Kash’s path. The younger rider never had a chance. He jumped clear of his own bike before it slammed into Deon’s. Deon was a gifted climber and after rolling away from the crash, he used his finger strength to dangle from the edge of the track while the inexperienced werewolf plummeted into the water below.
“I’ll be right back,” Augusto told the girls, as he jumped on his Airboard and used his hooves to steer it out into the arena.
“Guess I was wrong. This obstacle isn’t impossible,” Deon said, removing his helmet as he strolled across the finish line. He was grinning from ear to ear.
"That's not what I saw,” said Augusto.
Deon’s smile disappeared. "What are you talking about?"
“This is a motorbike race. The idea is to finish it on a motorbike.”
“Who gives a shit as long as you finish?” argued Deon.
Augusto had never entered an untested obstacle in the games. He wasn’t going to start now.
“Run it again,” Augusto ordered.
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
"I know what you're doing,” snarled Deon.
“Yeah my job. I suggest you do yours.”
"Bullshit! You're making a dickhead move just so you can show everyone that you're still in charge. That you were right and that I was wrong. You keep pushing this obstacle and someone’s gonna get hurt.”
Deon had been challenging Augusto's decisions for the last two quarters. Augusto couldn't be mad at him. He had promoted from lead stuntman to chief administrator in much the same way. But the difference was Augusto had taken the reigns from someone who had been chief for twenty years and Deon was trying to usurp Augusto after only five. Choosing obstacles for the crucible was a calculated decision not a heedless one. Every quarter you had a new group of competitors and you had to maintain a delicate balance between possible and impossible. Keeping things unpredictable was key to running a successful and profitable Crucible. Augusto had gone with some of Deon's suggestions in hopes that they would teach Deon about the consequences of his decisions. But it had only spurred his desire to be in charge further.
"Why are you in such a hurry to replace me?" Augusto asked.
"Honestly?" Deon pawed the track with his hoof.
"Please."
"Because I deserve it more than you."
"I've paid my dues like everyone else." Augusto crossed his arms.
"Yeah, in the wrong profession. You're chief administrator of the Crucible but you could be Drug lord of Valdez Industries, if you would just sack up and challenge your old man."
It was a Valdez family tradition that whenever the eldest heir became of age, he challenged his father to a duel to the death for the title of Drug lord. Augusto had never concerned
himself with taking the reins from his father Paco Valdez because the right to challenge belonged to his older brother Silvio. But Silvio never got the chance. Two years ago he was in a tragic hovercar collision and he had slipped into a coma. Now everyone expected Augusto to step up, but he’d refused. He didn’t want to run Valdez Industries, he liked running the crucible.
"The ruler of Valdez Industries is not your concern."
"That's where you’re wrong. I'm not royalty. I'm never gonna be a Drug lord. The best I could ever hope to be is Chief Administrator and I'm ready. But you're too selfish to move aside."
Deon glared at him. The punk was practically daring Augusto to hit him. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let his emotions get the best of him.
“That’s enough for today. We’ll run it again tomorrow. ” Augusto said turning away from Deon’s glare.
IZABEL
WHEN IZABEL AWOKE, she expected to be looking up at the bare beamed ceiling of Spanky's bar. But she wasn't. Instead she was looking at a pair of windshield wipers. Busy ones. She sat up and looked around. She was in a cockpit.
“Relax. You’re safe,” said the Chromey occupying the pilot’s seat.
“Who—
“Name’s Elijah Defoe,” The pilot said before Izabel could finish her question. “I worked for your old man.”
“God, I hate this planet,” said Elijah, gritting his teeth behind the controls. “The chance for rain is one-hundred percent, one hundred percent of the time." He was exaggerating. But it did rain at least once a day on San Andreas. Personally, she loved the rain. But she could sympathize with his viewpoint. There were only two things that could penetrate kevlar skin. Bloodhowl fangs and water. That's why most Chromeys preferred to live on planets with more arid climates like Fahrenheit and Orathas. If Elijah was here on a planet he hated, then that meant everything that happened at Spanky's was real, instead of just a nightmare she could forget.