Zombie Fallout 10

by Mark Tufo

  “Take off your motherfucking clothes, you stupid fuck.”

  “Fuck off,” BT replied.

  The beam must have already been lifted because the door flew open. Three rifles were pointing directly at him.

  “Get your clothes off or we’ll do it for you.”

  “You can try.”

  “We’ll try this one more time. My name is Griffins; I am the Master at Arms. I have been authorized by Knox to come and collect you for initiation. If you don’t come willingly, I was told to shoot you first in the shoulder. If that doesn’t convince you, the next one is supposed to go into your elbow. Now I’ll do it—I’ve done it before. If you look at the rear wall you can see where the bullet hit after it exited Johnson’s shoulder. Show him the wound.” Griffins stepped aside to allow Johnson to move closer, the man handed his weapon off and pulled his shirt to the side to show a pink and puckered wound.

  “Hurt like a son of a bitch. I don’t recommend it,” Johnson said as he readjusted. “I’m a corporal now in Knox’s army. I hated them all that first couple of months, but now, well, we’re doing wonderful things.”

  “Yeah. The best things always come from those trying to take over the world,” BT sneered.

  “What’s it going to be?” Griffins asked. “Please don’t make me shoot you. Oh, it’s not that I’m squeamish or that I have a fundamental problem with it. It’s just that after I saw you come in I bet on you going twelve deep before you succumbed, and if I have to send you out all gunshot, I’m probably going to lose my money. There was only one man that ever went twelve deep—Moosey. We found him way up north, gutting a moose. Biggest fuck I’d ever seen until you. Couldn’t talk, that one, so we just named him. He died in the ring. The doctor said his heart just exploded after the twelfth. Too bad, too. He would have been able to carry all the heavy equipment around. Now get up, take your clothes off, and before you start asking stupid questions, I mean everything. Your underwear, your boots, your socks, and any jewelry you have on.”

  BT stood slowly.

  “Just shoot him,” Pirelli said.

  “You always say that,” Griffins told him. Griffins pulled his sidearm out and flipped the safety. “One.” He brought the pistol up and leveled it on BT’s shoulder. “Two.”

  BT thought the man seemed as casual about it as if he were pouring a glass of lemonade instead of getting ready to shoot a man. BT pulled his shirt over his head, then bent over to untie his boots. In under thirty seconds, he was fully nude.

  “Had my doubts, but thank you. Would have hated to lose an ounce of gold before it even started. Now come on out of there. This part is called the parade, where everyone in our community gets a chance to see you. It’s more for the betting handicap, though, even if the boss says it’s sort of like your rebirth into a brand new world. You know, all naked and screaming. Well, the screaming part comes soon enough anyway.”

  There were a lot of oohs and aahs as BT was led to the caged ring. The tables had been moved from the makeshift cafeteria and now completely encircled the ring. Knox was standing atop one.

  “Welcome, Dragons, to this most special of nights! We bring forth a man who is sure to be a great addition to our rebuilding force! But first, like all of us had to do before, he must be born into this brand new violent world!”

  There was a practiced cheer of “Dragons baptized in fire, death before dishonor!”

  “He must come forth the way God intended! He will fight his way into our ranks, through the Initiation! Now we will bow our heads in prayer in the hopes that none of our brothers or sisters are gravely hurt.”

  BT looked around as every person bowed their heads and closed their eyes. If he wasn’t directly in the middle of them he would have attempted an escape.

  “Get him in the ring,” Knox said, “and let him know the rules.”

  “There aren’t really any rules, other than there's no weapons,” Griffins said as he got BT into the ring. “One person will come in that door. You’ll allow them to fully enter, and then you both go at it until one of you can’t. It’s easy for the other person because they get to come out. You keep going until someone bests you. If you beat twelve and then take a dive I’ll make sure you get some easy duties afterward.”

  “Tampering!” Someone yelled from the stands. “Griffins is trying to tamper again!”

  “Shut your trap. I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kendall!” Griffins smiled as he got out of the ring.

  “Hey, that ain’t fair! There’s not supposed to be any weapons!” Kendall again yelled out.

  “What the fuck are you yapping about now?” Griffins asked, turning back to look at BT and making sure he hadn’t missed anything.

  “He’s got a club!” There was raucous laughter at his joke.

  “It’s just a dick, Kendall. It wouldn’t look so huge if you had one of your own!” The laughter got even louder.

  A man came through the door. BT figured he was around twenty-two. He looked fit and strong, but also scared. He circled warily; BT adjusted to make sure he was always looking at the man.

  “I’m going to fuck you up,” the man said. The words would have had more force if there hadn’t been a quiver to them.

  BT raised his arms up at his sides and opened his palms in a “Here I am” gesture. The man charged; BT quickly made a fist and proceeded to explode the man’s nose across the side of his face. Blood sprayed out onto the first two rows of spectators. The young man fell over, out cold.

  “That might be a record,” someone in the audience yelled out. Two men came in to grab their fallen comrade; as they did, BT noticed two rifles trained on him from the opposite side of the cage.

  Next stepped in what BT could only describe as a robust woman.

  “A woman? You want me to fight a woman?” BT asked the crowd.

  “What’s the matter? You afraid?” she asked. At five and a half feet high, she was nearly as wide as she was tall. But BT thought she might just be the definition of big-boned. “Name’s Betsey, and I have personally ended three initiations.”

  Griffins sheepishly raised his hand.

  “I’ve wrestled bulls bigger than you to the ground. If you underestimate me, I will make you pay,” she said.

  “I believe it.” BT was acutely aware that Betsey was spending an inordinate amount of time looking at his genitalia, and not because it held any sexual interest to her, but rather it was his most exposed vulnerability. “Wish I could blame Talbot for this, but if I hadn’t wanted that damn machine I’ve got a good feeling I wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “What are you pussying on about?” the woman asked right before she lunged. She made a feint for his face but slid away, her eyes lingering on his knob and berries for a millisecond too long. She backed away a couple of steps. She came in again, much faster than BT figured she was capable of. She took a half-hearted swipe at his head, which he did little to block, knowing what she was actually aiming for. BT leaned to stop the kick she sent, realizing too late that also was not her full intention.

  BT swiveled his hips to avoid the worst of it but that did not halt the gasps and cries of “Foul!” from the crowd when her meaty fist wrapped around his dangling manhood. She squeezed tight, then loosened, going for the more tender balls, where she had originally intended on landing. BT didn’t even bother to think about it as he drove a ham-sized fist into the side of her head. She babbled something about being kicked by a mule and fell over onto the side of her face. BT bent over and covered up. His stomach roiled its displeasure at the pain welling up from his groin. Betsey began to convulse on the ground and then vomit as two men dragged her out. BT watched as a medic tended to the woman; he was not saddened when the man shook his head back and forth to signify she was not alive.

  “Send them all in!” BT roared. “I’ll kill each and every one of them!”

  The next to come in was a man named Bryant, mid-thirties. BT thought he could have been an accountant, with his close-set eyes an
d thick glasses. It was clear by the man’s stance he wanted to be anywhere but here.

  “Please,” Bryant begged. “I’m new here!”

  “Consider this a favor then,” BT yelled. “I’ll make your stay short,” he added as he thundered across the ring. It had all been a ploy though, as the man lashed out with a kick, trying his best to cave BT’s knee in. He’d misjudged and hit low, causing BT’s foot to slip and for him to fall forward. Before Bryant could get out of the way, BT dragged him down as he went. Bryant was gasping for air after BT’s full weight came down on him and forced the oxygen from his lungs. BT pushed up off Bryant’s chest and stood. He reached down and grabbed the man’s hand and forearm while placing his left foot on his chest.

  “What…what are you doing?” he choked out.

  With a grinding sound, BT wrenched up and pulled Bryant’s arm free from its socket. There was hushed silence from the crowd and then came the tortured screams from the man, somehow more poignant because of their lack of volume without the fuel to fire his voice.

  “Next! I can do this all day!”

  Knox, who had been enjoying himself, was quickly angering. Fights were one thing, busted nose, chipped tooth, bloody knuckles. Those were all the norm. But now he had two men with injuries that could keep them sidelined for weeks, and Betsey, his best armorer, was dead. The new recruit had fought three fights and had nothing worse than a little dick-pull. He didn’t know how many people he dared send into that ring. The Pit Master looked up to him. Knox tersely nodded. The Pit Master sent the next one in. Knox noticed that the line to fight the big man had been twenty deep at the beginning. It was now fewer than five, as most of the volunteers had opted out. He was thinking sourly on this when he looked up at the ring and noticed BT was swinging his newest victim by the feet before flinging him in a wide arc to crash into the side of the cage. The fighter’s arm audibly snapped in three places as he tried to brace himself from the impact.

  “What about you?” BT looked straight at Knox. “Or do you just sit on your little throne while others do your fighting for you?” BT pointed to the man who would re-make the world.

  “Two.” Knox held up two fingers to the Pit Master.

  “I can take him on my own!” Reggie, the next man in line, yelled out.

  “Send in the two! That way I can be done fucking you all up sooner rather than later!” BT yelled.

  The second man came in, but stayed mostly behind Reggie.

  “Spread out, Vic. He can’t get both of us.” Reggie pushed the man away.

  “Which one of you two is my bitch?” BT asked. “I’m thinking it’s you, Vic.” BT pointed a finger at the man who looked like he was trying to be invisible. “Saw a movie once, Vic. Had one of my favorite actors in it, Will Smith. What the hell was it called? He was a superhero...angel or some shit.”

  “Hancock!” Griffins called out from the audience.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” BT said. “Anyway, there was a scene in the movie where he shoved one man’s head up another’s ass. Today I’m going to finally see if that’s possible.” BT moved toward Vic knowing he would shy away and Reggie, the aggressive one, would come in thinking he had an opening. BT wheeled, his fist already on the move as it collided with Reggie’s jaw. Three teeth were sent hurtling out of his mouth, one was stopped by the chain link, the other two landed on one of the picnic tables. Reggie groaned, his jaw broken and hanging askew. When Vic saw this he turned back to the gate and tried pulling the door open.

  “Let me out, man! Let me out! Come on! This shit ain’t funny. He’s going to kill me! Who’s going to cook if I die?” he pleaded.

  “Make this easier on yourself, Vic. If I have to come and get you I’m going to break your pelvis. I swear I will,” BT said evenly.

  “I’m just the cook.” Vic turned to face BT when he realized they weren’t going to open the gate for him.

  “Not anymore.” BT raised his leg up with a bent knee, he leaned back and front kicked Vic into the fencing, cracking three of the man’s ribs as he did so. “Looking a little pissed off over there, Knox. Man, if I’d known how fun this initiation thing was going to be I would have come willingly. It’s not often I get to beat men senseless these days.”

  “Tase him,” Knox directed the Pit Master.

  “What?”

  “I said to fucking tase him. Then send the next one in.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare!” BT said as the laser dots targets his stomach. “Dammit!” He shouted when the prongs embedded themselves into his flesh. The current running through was curling his arms up. His legs were trembling and wanted to go rigid.

  The next man came in and quickly ran across the mat, punching BT repeatedly in the face until blood began to pour from a cut above his eye. “This will go better for you if you just go down!” The man was raining blows on BT’s chest, stomach and head, yet BT would not budge. Blood splattered the mat as it sprayed around from the impacts.

  BT slowly curled his fists; it took longer to stretch his arms down. The Pit Master held the switch down, sending as many volts into BT’s body as he could, and incredibly, the man kept moving forward. BT slowly wrapped a hand around the leads and yanked them from his flesh. The Pit Master still had his hand on the switch when BT drove them down into the skull of the fighter sucker-punching him.

  “Hope that fries whatever fucking brains you had in there!”

  The man immediately went rigid, his eyes rolling back into his skull before he toppled over like a struck bowling pin.

  “Got any other pansies I can plant for you?” BT asked Knox. The crowd had gone unnaturally quiet.

  “Tase him again,” Knox said as he stood. “Perkins, Girard, Griffins with me.” He pulled off his shirt to show a latticework of scars which rippled from his muscles. “This is supposed to be a good time. We break you in to how things work around here. A little blood is spilled, a broken finger or two, maybe. Nothing horrible. We gamble, make bets amongst each other. When it’s all said and done and the newbie is broken, they commit their loyalty to me.”

  “And if they don’t?” BT asked.

  “I shoot them,” Knox said as he removed his sidearm and placed it on his seat. “We only want people here that want to be here. That want to make a difference in this new world. To become all that they can become. But you see—you’re fucking that up. I don’t think you’re a team player. You’re still a man, though. A big man, granted, but you’ll fall. Everyone does eventually. No doubt you could have broken the record here tonight; you would have been a legend. Respect from the men, more love from the women than you could have imagined. When the last record holder, Dander, got eaten by the zombies, I thought he’d let it happen on purpose because he couldn’t handle all the women chasing him. That could have been you, my friend. A giant among giants!” Knox stepped down off his raised platform. “But now, you’re just a walking dead man.”

  “Get in here, asshole. We’ll see who ends up dead. Maybe I should take charge of your little play army here.”

  “Get our other guests in here,” Knox said.

  “Are you sure?” The Pit Master asked.

  “Do you think questioning my authority is a good idea right now, Bruce?” He spoke so calmly, but his eyes threatened to burn a hole through the back of Bruce’s head.

  “Harry, go get ’em,” Bruce said. The men sitting by the cage door immediately stood and pulled their tables out of the way. Once that was done they went to the far side of the warehouse to grab some fencing material BT had not noticed earlier.

  “You’ll probably want to know what’s going on now and I’m going to tell you. Not out of any kind of kindred spirit thing—I’m not trying to alleviate your stress—I want to elevate it. We’re a community here, and in any community, you’re bound to get your fair share of fuck-ups. People that just aren’t right in the head. No matter how much you talk to them or discipline them they just don’t get it. We had a situation just the other day where two of my people were
fucking. That in itself is fine, I don’t have a problem with that. What was wrong and intolerable was that each of them was married to another.” Knox’s mood went from explaining to exploding. “We cannot be a proper society if we do not honor our vows! Both of them made vows to their partners and then broke them. They also made vows to me and I will not, WILL NOT allow them to break those to me. They were standing in that cage, just like you, both naked. He cried; she glared at me the entire time. My wife—MY WIFE had the audacity to glare at me after she cheated!”

  “You ever think maybe she wanted to get caught?” BT asked.

  “Careful,” Knox hissed.

  “You can’t make me more dead. I can’t imagine this whole big build up you’re doing somehow involves a gigantic pillow fight.”

  “Oh, in your case it’s not whether you live or die; it’s how you die. That’s what you’re fighting for now. There’s a merciful way that includes being shot in the head, then there’s the brutal way of going out one bite at a time. Build the tunnel!” Knox shouted.

  Build The Tunnel...Build The Tunnel...Build The Tunnel...” became the chant of the crowd.

  “This really is like a bad Mad Max movie,” BT said quietly. “Mike might get a kick out of this. Speaking of which, buddy, it sure would be nice if your ass showed up here really soon. Got a bad feeling about what’s about to happen.”

  A crew began to bring sections of fencing from the far side of the building, they were quickly lashing them together with ropes and chains, making a tunnel that stretched from the store room right up to the gate leading into the cage.

  “Zombies.” Knox was smiling as he looked at BT. “Whole shitloads of them. They’re going to get one look at your huge-ass self and they’re going to come blazing down that tunnel like they were shot out of an air cannon. A fucking zombie loaded air cannon! And there ain’t a thing you can do about it. Oh, I’ll give you a bat, not because it’s more sporting, but once you’re holding that thing you will actually have a glimmer of hope in your eyes and I want to be front and center when that light finally flickers and dies. I mean, it won’t at first—you’re going to put up a hell of a fight, I bet. But even you have to get tired, right? And even if you don’t, the bat will inevitably slip from your grip from all the blood that’s sure to coat it. Then it just takes one little nibble on a knuckle, maybe just a pinch of your forearm in their front chompers.” Knox peeled his lips back and clacked his front teeth together in display.