by Tim Waggoner
She removed her finger from the hold button, the elevator door closed, and they continued their downward journey.
Jayce began to shake, his trembling having nothing to do with being naked. He’d experienced so many awful things since setting foot in the CrazyQwik last night, and he’d remembered even more. But none of them were as mind-numbingly horrible as what he’d just seen, not even the memory of killing his own mother.
Speak for yourself, Valerie said.
“The Underborn work especially well on that level,” Ivory said. “They’re stronger than the humans from which they’re created. Hardier. They can take a lot more punishment before dying. The longer they last, the more damage my customers can inflict, and the happier they are. And when they’re happy, fewer humans are slaughtered aboveground.”
“You’re just a fucking saint, aren’t you?” Jayce’s voice shook with anger. “Selflessly protecting John and Jane Normal, not to mention all their little Normals, from the big, bad monsters of Shadow.”
“Hardly selfless,” Ivory said. “My customers pay very well for access to the more specialized levels of Crimson Splendor. But yes, I do care about what happens to the citizens of Oakmont, even if to me they’re little more than animals.” She smiled. “I suppose you could say I’m a conservationist at heart.”
Jayce glared at the woman, and he wondered what the odds were that he could loop his bound wrists over the back of Ivory’s head and choke her to death before Theron could snap his neck. Not too good, he decided. Too bad. If there was ever anyone who needed killing, it was her.
The elevator came to a stop once more, and the door slid open.
“And this is our destination,” Ivory said. “The final destination for you two, I’m afraid. I call it the Pit.”
Chapter Twelve
Ivory stepped out of the elevator, and Theron prodded Jayce and Nicola to follow her. Jayce heard crowd noises – shouting, cheering, clapping, and stomping. The lights were bright here, forcing him to squint. No music and no color theme this time. Whatever took place in the Pit, it seemed Ivory wanted to make sure that every detail was clearly visible. This level was far more unfinished than the others. The floor was smooth stone, but the walls and ceiling remained corrugated and craggy. Floodlights were attached to a metal framework which hung from the ceiling above a large circular depression. Wooden bleachers had been erected on the edge of the Pit in a U shape, the open end of which pointed toward the elevator. The bleachers were filled with Shadowers, but none turned to look as they approached. Their attention was focused entirely on whatever was happening in the Pit. Their eyes shone with hunger, their features twisted with cruel excitement. Some pumped their fists in the air, while others cupped hands to their mouths and shouted things like, “Kill the fucker!” or, “Do it NOW!”
What’s the first rule of Fight Club? Valerie thought.
You died before the book came out, Jayce replied.
I read it when you did, she countered. You’ve been my eyes for the last thirty years.
Like that’s not creepy.
Ivory led them to the edge of the Pit. A metal railing bordered it, and in front of the railing was a chair, an overstuffed, antique-looking thing that seemed as if it had been shipped directly from the nineteenth century. Jayce didn’t have to ask who it belonged to.
Ivory moved past the chair, stepped to the railing, gripped the top bar, and leaned forward to get a better look. Jayce saw his chance. He didn’t know how deep the Pit was, but he figured that if it required a railing, it was probably deep enough to cause some damage if someone was unlucky enough to fall into it – or be pushed. He took a single step forward, but then Theron’s hand clamped down on his shoulder like a vise.
So much for that idea, Valerie thought.
Theron kept his hand on Jayce as he urged him and Nicola forward. When they reached the railing, Jayce could see that the Pit’s floor lay twenty feet below the level of the bleachers, deep enough that anyone inside couldn’t escape, but not so deep as to decrease the quality of the view. The walls had been made smooth – so there would be no hand or footholds, Jayce guessed – but the floor was rough and uneven. Probably to make fighting more difficult for the combatants, and therefore more exciting for the audience. There were two people in the Pit, and one of them was Ohio Pig. He wore the same clothes he’d had on when he was captured, only now they were torn and even more bloodstained than before. He was covered with cuts, some of which looked bad enough to qualify as serious wounds. His body was slick with sweat, and his chest heaved as if he were on the verge of exhaustion and was having trouble catching his breath. He gripped a machete in his right hand, his only weapon from what Jayce could see, the blade coated with blood.
His opponent was one of the Therons, presumably the same one that had brought him down here while Ivory had chatted with Jayce and Nicola. The duplicate’s body was covered with machete cuts, and he was bleeding quite a bit more than the Pig. His left ear was missing, and a strike to his face had sliced open his right cheek, which hung from his face in a slick red flap, revealing the teeth underneath. The Theron had no weapon, and when Jayce looked at Ivory, she said, “As strong as the Therons are, it evens the odds when they enter the Pit barehanded.” She patted the cheek of the Theron gripping Jayce’s shoulder, and he smiled as if she’d given him a personal compliment.
The Pig looked as if he could barely hold up the machete, and despite how badly the Theron was bleeding, the duplicate looked alert and full of energy. The two men circled each other, Theron crouched over, arms spread out as if this were a wrestling match, Ohio Pig with his machete pointed at the other man’s chest. Then, without warning, Theron let out a roar and charged. The Pig stood his ground and waited, and at the last moment, instead of stabbing the machete into Theron’s chest, he spun to the left and away from the other man’s charge. The Pig’s momentum brought his machete arm around, and as Theron stumbled forward, the Pig struck a solid blow to the man’s back. The blade cut into flesh and muscle, and blood gushed forth from the wound. The impact of the blow, coupled with the uneven ground, caused Theron to lose his balance and he fell forward. The Pig yanked the machete free from the man’s back as he fell, and when he hit the ground belly-first, the Pig jumped forward and swung the machete at the back of Theron’s neck. The blade hit just below the base of the skull with a nauseating chuk! sound, and the Pig pulled it out and struck three more times in rapid succession. Chuk-chuk-chuk!
The Pig straightened, gasping for air, arms hanging limply at his sides. The machete slipped from his blood-slick fingers and clanged to the stone floor. Theron lay motionless, his head partially severed, a widening pool of blood spreading around his head like a dark red halo.
The crowd fell silent, watching, listening. When Theron didn’t move after several moments, they broke into thunderous cheers and applause. The Pig, weary and bleeding from his injuries, raised a hand and gave the crowd the finger, turning slowly around all the way to make sure everyone saw it. The gesture only served to make them cheer harder, though.
Ivory clapped softly.
“I have to admit, I’m impressed,” she said, speaking loudly to be heard over the crowd. “There aren’t many who can survive going a few rounds with a Theron, let alone kill one. The Pig does look somewhat the worse for wear, though. I’ll be interested to see how he fares against his next opponent.” She smiled at Jayce and Nicola. “I’ll be even more interested to see how you two perform. You’re both fresh and uninjured” – she paused as she glanced at the stitches on Jayce’s hand – “for the most part, so hopefully you’ll be able to help him.” She turned to the Theron who still gripped Jayce’s shoulder. “Take them down to the staging area and get them ready. I’ll signal when it’s time to begin.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the Theron said, and then – still holding on to Jayce’s shoulder – he led them to an open doorway carved into the wall on t
heir right, where a set of curving stone stairs descended into darkness. There were no lights or handrails, and with their wrists bound, Jayce and Nicola couldn’t put a hand on the wall to steady themselves as they went down. The stone steps were damp and he feared they might slip and tumble down the stairs. It didn’t help that they were both barefoot.
Yeah, it would be a real shame if you two got banged up before you were tossed into the Pit to get slaughtered, Valerie said.
Don’t be such a bitch, Jayce thought back. Remember, if I go, you go.
His mother had nothing to say to that.
Jayce saw light as they neared the bottom of the stairs, and soon they entered a chamber with a domed ceiling. The chamber opened onto the Pit, and the opening was where the light came from. There were several wooden benches here, and Ohio Pig sat on one of them, slumped forward, head hanging down, mingled sweat and blood dripping from his body to patter on the stone floor. A Theron stood behind him, tending to his wounds with supplies from an open medical kit sitting on the bench next to the Pig. The Pig held a half-empty water bottle in his right hand, the plastic surface smeared with blood. As the Theron worked, the Pig raised his head, drank the remaining water, and then slumped forward once more, the bottle slipping from his fingers to hit the floor, bouncing and rolling before it came to a stop.
“Wait here,” said the Theron who’d escorted Jayce and Nicola down. There was a wooden armoire set against the far wall, and the Theron walked over to it, pulled the doors open, and reached inside. He drew forth a pair of folded white garments, carried them over to Jayce and Nicola, and dropped them on the floor in front of them.
“Hold out your hands,” he said.
They did so, and the Theron drew a knife from his belt and cut them free from their zip ties. The plastic strips fell to the ground, and the Theron sheathed his knife, picked up the ties – along with the empty water bottle the Pig had discarded – and carried them with him as he returned to the armoire. A metal waste can sat next to the armoire, and Theron dropped the severed ties and the bottle into it, then returned his attention to the armoire.
As Jayce and Nicola massaged their sore wrists, the Pig looked up at them, the Theron continuing to work on him as he spoke.
“So nice of you to join me,” he said.
Jayce saw no sign of the man’s machete. He figured he’d been forced to leave it in the Pit. No way the Therons would allow him to remain armed between matches.
The Pig nodded toward the clothes the Theron had dropped before them.
“I think you’re supposed to put those on.” He leered at Nicola. “Although in your case, it would be a shame to cover up that body.” He looked at Jayce. “Too bad I can’t say the same about you. By the way, what’s that shriveled thing dangling between your legs? It looks like a penis, only smaller.”
Jayce and Nicola ignored him as they picked up the garments, unfolded and examined them. They were white coveralls with a zipper down the front. One pair was larger than the other, and Jayce took that one since he was taller – not to mention wider around the middle – than Nicola. The coveralls’ fabric was thin and scratchy, and Jayce didn’t think it would provide any more protection from a weapon than a piece of wet paper. Jayce wondered why Ivory bothered to have him and Nicola dress. Wouldn’t it be more exciting for the crowd – and more demeaning for them – if they were forced to fight naked? But then he realized the coveralls would allow for a kind of mutilation striptease as the cloth was cut from their bodies. And as for the white color? It would make the blood stand out more dramatically.
It’s all about the theatrics, Valerie said. I hated watching these damn shows when I was alive. I think I’m going to hate participating in one even more.
After Jayce and Nicola were dressed, Ohio Pig snorted. “I’m glad I was already wearing clothes when they grabbed me. You two look dumb as hell in those things.”
The Theron that had brought them their clothes now brought them a pair of weapons that he’d selected from the armoire. One was a large hunting knife – the kind the dog-eaters had carried, Jayce thought – and the other was a three-ball flail with spikes.
“Choose,” the Theron said.
“I won’t fight either of them,” Jayce said. Now that he knew the Pig hadn’t killed Emory, he had no reason to hate the man. Sure, he was crazy as fuck, but that was par for the course when it came to Shadowers. He had no desire to hurt the man any further than he’d already been. And as for Nicola – he couldn’t say he loved her, but he felt close to her after everything they’d been through, especially in the Funhouse. But more than that, she’d offered to help him search for Emory when no one else would, and what had it gotten her? Captured by Ivory and brought to her private Coliseum to take part in a Shadow version of Christians versus Lions. Nicola didn’t deserve this, and not only wouldn’t he fight her for the amusement of Ivory and her ‘customers’, he’d do everything he could to protect her.
“You’re not supposed to fight each other,” the Theron said. “You’re supposed to fight together.”
“No guns?” Nicola asked.
The Theron grinned. “Guns are too easy – and too fast. The crowd likes it when we draw out the fun as long as possible.”
And then, as if he could no longer be bothered to wait, he carried the knife and flail to the Pit opening and tossed them through. He then took up a position in the opening, standing sideways so he could keep one eye on them and another on his mistress above. He folded his arms and waited for Ivory’s promised signal.
The crowd had been talking amongst themselves since the Pig’s battle with the Theron had finished, but now some of them began chanting Ivory’s name, only a few at first, but then more picked up the chant until the crowd seemed to be speaking in a single deafening voice. The chanting soon died away, and Jayce imagined that Ivory had raised her hands for quiet.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” she said. Her voice didn’t sound as if it were miked, and she didn’t shout, and yet Jayce could hear her as clearly as if she were standing next to him. “I trust you’ve all been enjoying yourselves this evening?”
Cheers, shouts, applause.
“Glad to hear it. Our next match will began shortly. Ohio Pig will be back—”
Some cheers at this, but just as many boos.
“—and this time he’ll be joined by two others. Together, they’re going to face three very special opponents, so get ready. You’ll be talking about this one for years!”
The crowd went crazy at that, clapping, cheering, hooting, whistling, and stomping.
Jayce, however, was far less excited. Once he’d learned that he, Nicola, and the Pig wouldn’t have to fight each other, he’d assumed they would fight more Therons. But from what Ivory said, it sounded as if she had something different – and no doubt worse – in mind.
Jayce looked at the Pig. The Theron tending to his injuries had moved in front of him and was applying some kind of thick goo to the cuts on his arms and chest.
“Look,” Jayce said, “about what happened in the club—”
“Forget about it,” the Pig said. “I can be kind of an asshole sometimes.”
“Kind of?” Nicola said.
“How did you know the Underborn you killed wasn’t Emory?” he asked.
“I didn’t at first,” the Pig said. “After I left you at your daughter’s apartment, I drove around the Cannery, checking with my usual sources to see if anyone had heard anything about a woman named Emory. I didn’t have any luck at first, but after a while someone told me she knew an Emory who was turning tricks on a certain street corner. I hauled ass over there and sure enough, there she was. I talked to her a couple minutes, let her think I was just another horny John looking for some action. When I was convinced it was her, I tried to grab her, but she took hold of me and slammed me up against the side of a building. She was so damn strong
that I knew something had been done to change her, and since I’ve dealt with plenty of Underborn in my time, I figured she was one. We fought for a while, and she was tough, but in the end I was too fast and too smart for her, and I was able to take her head off. I tossed the body in an alley, where I knew it would liquefy soon enough, but I decided to bring the head to show you. I didn’t think you’d believe the Underborn were real unless you saw the head dissolve. It takes about thirty minutes or so for one of them to go gloppy, so I knew I needed to find you fast. I tried calling, but I didn’t get you. That’s when I decided to gamble that you were in Crimson Splendor. The cell reception is shit in the club. The rest you know.”
“Why Ohio Pig?” Jayce asked, curious.
The man frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Your nickname. Why did you choose Ohio Pig?”
“That’s what my license plate says. I put it on there because I like to make barbecue. I guess you could say it’s kind of my hobby. I go to festivals and compete in competitions, that kind of thing. But my name is Owen.”
The Theron stepped away from the Pig, examined his handiwork, nodded once, then closed the first aid kit, picked it up, and headed for the armoire. He put the kit away, closed the armoire’s doors, locked it, and then walked to the Pit opening to stand opposite his ‘brother’, folding his arms in exactly the same way, so that they looked like mirror images of each other. Which, Jayce supposed, in a way they were.
He thought of what the Pig had told them. Maybe the version of Emory he’d killed had been a simple prostitute, but more likely she had been a lure to capture more people so Ivory could bring them to the Primogenitor and use them to make more Underborn. He now understood why Ivory had brought the three of them here. By searching for Emory, they’d discovered the truth of what the Underborn were and more, what they were used for. To keep her secret, Ivory needed them dead, but simply killing them would be no good. Where was the fun in that? Instead, she would make them fight – and die – in the Pit, for her amusement and that of her patrons. He tried to think of some way out of this situation, but he didn’t see any. No way they could escape from the Therons, and even if by some miracle they did, where could they go? They would still be trapped in an underground chamber with several hundred Shadowers, as well as who knew how many Therons. One way or another, the three of them were going to die here. It was only a matter of how quickly and by what means.