Ryan followed the kick with a hard left cross to the side of the sec man's face. Teeth and blood flew out of a corner of his mouth, much of it landing outside the ring, and his eyes rolled up in their sockets. He fell to the ground in a heap, his head slamming hard into the ground.
Richmond stepped forward to help his fellow sec man, but Brody kept him back.
Even one of Mog's men, Foghat, moved in to keep Richmond away.
Ryan stepped forward and looked over the fallen guard. "If you agree to leave at the break, I won't chill you, sec man."
"Fuck you, outlander!" Salazar spit on Ryan's boot and pounded a fist weakly against Ryan's thigh.
Ryan flipped the panga so that it was pointing down and plunged the tip of it into Salazar's chest. The knife stopped when it was through his body and had come up against the hard-packed ground beneath it.
A faint pulse of blood bubbled up around the panga's blade, and a crimson line leaked out of the corner of the man's mouth.
The crowd grew silent.
A bell rang to signify the first break.
Ryan and Brody were still alive, and there were two fewer opponents to worry about.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sec chief Ganley helped pull the second boat onto dry land and began overseeing preparations for another night on the shore. The volunteers were near exhaustion after fighting the wind and current on Erie Lake throughout the long afternoon. Some had gone off into the nearby forests in search of firewood and anything else that might be useful to them.
There was plenty of fresh fish to eat, but Ganley would allow them to break into some of the dried stores they'd brought to trade if anyone wanted. The following day would be a long one, and they'd need all the rest and strength they could manage.
A sudden scream came from somewhere inland.
Ganley ran toward the sound, followed closely by several of the others.
When he reached a small stand of trees, Ganley stopped in his tracks. He frantically searched the deadwood and pale leaves of the trees, but could see nothing in the afternoon shadows.
"Help me!" The scream was fainter this time, but clearly a man's scream.
The scream had come from somewhere up ahead and to the right. Ganley headed toward it, signaling to the others to fan out to the left and farther right.
With each step the sounds of the man's scream grew fainter, replaced by another noise more sinister in nature. It was wet and sloppy and mixed in with the unmistakable sound of bones snapping and muscle and sinew being torn apart.
And then he saw it.
Russell Duncan, a young fisherman in his early twenties on the mission to bring home a wife, was lying in a small clearing while his body was being torn apart by several pale white, sickly-looking mutants. They were tearing Duncan's flesh open with their bare hands and taking bites from his open wounds with their teeth, shredding the skin and muscle with vicious jerking motions of their heads.
There were four of them feeding on the body.
"No!" Ganley cried out, but none of the muties seemed to notice. Others began trying to scare the muties away, but they all remained where they were, feeding.
Ganley raised his blaster and fired nearly a dozen shots. He was careful with the first shot, making sure he placed the round in Russell Duncan's skull. When the body went limp and he knew the young fisherman was dead, he opened fire on the creatures in earnest, peppering the muties with a hail of blasterfire, throwing them back and away from the corpse and ripping holes in every part of their bodies.
He walked over to the remains of Duncan's body and grabbed the man's jacket collar. He began to drag the corpse toward the beach where they could bury it properly and with an appropriate ceremony.
J.B. HAD THE FOUR .50-caliber machine blasters out of the P-39. All of the parts had been fairly well preserved, and a few of them still had a light sheen of oil.
"I thought we would only be using two of these blasters?" Doc asked.
"We are," J.B. answered. "I'm going to use the best parts out of the four to make two."
Doc sat and watched the Armorer work. There was pleasure to be had watching someone who thoroughly enjoyed his work, and that was J.B. He had quality blasters to fiddle with, and he looked just like a boy in a toy store. There was a strange look of pleasure on his face, as if he couldn't wait to fire the .50 caliber, or to see the 37 mm cannon blow apart the side of a building.
Doc envied the man's simple pleasures and wished he could become so lost in something. Instead, he spent his time thinking of his dear Emily and the two children they'd had together, Rachel and Jolyon.
With all the talk of breeding going on the past couple of days, Doc took solace in the fact that he had sired two of the most beautiful and vibrant children in all of the eastern states. They would have lived their lives out long ago, and while he was sure that Emily had raised them right, he often wondered about what they made of their lives, and if his family name or bloodline had lived on into skydark.
J.B. tried the gun he'd been assembling, pulling the trigger and gauging the action by the sound the mechanism made. He looked pleased.
"Impressive!" Doc commented.
"Rate of fire of five hundred rounds per minute, a muzzle velocity of 895 mps, and a range of 10,000 feet," J.B. said with a look of pride on his face. "This blaster can destroy any soft target it can reach, and that includes buildings."
Doc nodded, silently wondering if it might have been better if none of his descendants had survived the nukecaust.
Chapter Twenty-Five
"How are you?" Mildred asked. She had been assigned to the circle to help with the wounded combatants. She hadn't had much to do so far except pronounce two of them dead.
Ryan looked over his arms and shoulders. "Not a scratch on me yet."
"Try and keep it that way," Brody said. He had suffered a cut on his right arm.
"Intend to," Ryan said.
"I don't think Richmond and Hambly are likely to team up this next round. Something about sec men and muties that just don't mix. If anything, Richmond will be after you, wanting to give you payback for chilling Salazar. Hambly will either be taken out by Mog and his men, or he'll be hugging the edge of the circle hoping a wound will take him out at the next break."
"Can't he just quit?"
Brody shook his head. "He could, but that would make him a laughingstock."
"On your feet!" called Grundwold.
Ryan and Brody stood along with the others.
"In this round, all combatants will remove their shirts," the sec chief ordered.
Ryan took off his shirt. The crowd seemed to enjoy the sight of bare, bloody and sweaty flesh.
"Ready?" the sec chief bellowed.
The crowd screamed its approval.
"Fight!"
As Brody had suggested, Mog and his men went after Hambly, allowing Richmond the chance to go after Ryan.
Brody made sure Dorfman, Billingsley and Foghat remained with Mog and didn't try to take out Ryan amid the confusion.
"You're good with the knife, Cyclops," Richmond said, calling Ryan by the name the sec men on the farm seemed to favor.
"Better to be quick with a knife than quick with my mouth."
Richmond was a tall, lanky man. Ryan estimated they weighed about the same, but Richmond stood about three inches taller. Unlike the knife scars he'd seen on other sec men and slaves here, Richmond had a big round blaster scar on his right shoulder that was about three inches across. The wound was set back in the flesh about an inch, as if someone had scooped out a patch of flesh with a knife. "You want me to put down the knife, Cyclops?"
Ryan shrugged.
"No problem." Richmond dropped his knife onto the ground and kicked it to the edge of the circle.
Meanwhile, Mog and his three men had Hambly, the mutie, surrounded. Billingsley was poking him with his pike while Foghat was slashing at his back with his sword. There was pale red blood flowing over the mutant's equally pale
flesh, making him look like a predark barber's pole. Every once in a while, Hambly would make a break for the circle's edge, but Mog would always catch him and pull him back for still more torture.
As Ryan was dealing with Richmond, he noticed what was going on out of the corner of his eye and knew he'd have no trouble chilling Mog when the time came. He was too careless and casual in his way, and Ryan would take full advantage of it when the time came. He looked back at Richmond and threw his panga to the ground where the tip dug into the hard, dry earth and stuck, leaving the handle to quiver slightly in the sun.
"I'll get more pleasure chilling you with my bare hands anyway," Richmond said, moving closer. "That way it will happen slowly and with plenty of pain."
Ryan said nothing, concentrating solely on Richmond's hands and feet.
Dorfman, one of Mog's cronies, wandered over toward Richmond and Ryan, looking for a chance to chill one of them while they fought. But Brody stepped forward, waving the sharp end of his pike in Dorfman's face, and the man backed off.
Richmond lunged at Ryan, but the one-eyed man was able to move left, out of the way. Richmond turned, a slight smile on his face, then lunged again, this time feigning left, then moving right. Ryan again stepped to the side, but this time as Richmond passed him, he put out a knee, catching the sec man in the thigh and sending him spinning to the ground.
Richmond spit dust and dirt from his mouth and rolled onto his back, expecting Ryan to be right there towering over him.
But Ryan was standing well back, waiting for the sec man to regain his feet.
"You'll be sorry you didn't try to finish me off, Cyclops!"
"I'll make you the same offer I made your friend," Ryan said. "If you leave at the next break, I won't chill you."
Richmond said nothing for several seconds, then began to laugh. "You're gonna spare my life, slave!"
"I'm no slave," Ryan said.
Richmond grabbed a handful of dirt and dust and threw it in Ryan's face. The one-eyed man had been expecting as much from the sec man and turned his head to the right, causing the grit to sting his face and fall harmlessly against the patch over his left eye.
Ryan moved in, not giving the downed sec man any more time to get back to his feet. But before he could get his hands on Richmond, the man had a knife in his right fist. He gave it a flick and a four-inch blade appeared, as if out of the air.
The crowd had noticed Richmond's weapon and realized he had brought it into the ring with him. They began to boo and throw rotten fruit and vegetables into the circle. Ryan was hit in the back by an overripe tomato.
Grundwold got up from his chair, looking as if he might stop the fighting or force Richmond to drop his weapon, but the baron motioned for Grundwold to sit down, then waved his hands, signaling that the combatants continue their fight.
Ryan ducked low and kicked at Richmond's feet, sending the sec man spinning onto his back. Without hesitation, he kicked him again, this time hard in the stomach.
Richmond sputtered and coughed up a mouthful of bile, but still managed to slash at Ryan's leg, splitting the fabric of his pant leg open at the knee.
Brody moved in with his pike to pin the sec man down, but Ryan waved him off. "I don't need your help!"
The crowd roared its approval and turned its attention away from Mog's battle with Hambly. The mutie had been cut and slashed so many times that he would probably bleed to death before the next break. But that hadn't stopped Mog from continuing the torture, cutting off pieces of the mutant's body just to see how long he could remain standing. The sadistic punishment had held the crowd's interest for a while, but paled in comparison to the drama of the close contest being waged between Richmond and Ryan.
Richmond slashed at Ryan with his knife, forcing the one-eyed man to back away. When a few yards separated them, the sec man reached behind his back and produced a second knife. For a moment it seemed he might toss it to Ryan to make it a fair fight, but it soon became apparent he had no intention of doing anything of the sort. He came at Ryan with both knives leading the way.
Ryan backpedaled from the slashing steel, then tripped on something on the ground and fell onto his back.
A groan of disappointment washed over the crowd as it looked as if Ryan would be chilled, but the one-eyed man grabbed a handful of dirt and flung it at the face of the approaching sec man, just as the sec man had done to him scant minutes before. Richmond stopped in his tracks and did his best to clear his eyes of the grit, but it was no use. He couldn't open his eyes, and even if he could, he'd still be unable to see.
Ryan sprung up to his feet, ran around to Richmond's side and rammed his heel into the sec man's knee. Richmond's leg bent backward, toppling him to the ground like a felled tree, and forcing him to drop one of his knives and use a free hand to try to clear the dirt from his eyes.
Ryan reached into his back pocket and pulled out the brass knuckles he'd been given earlier in the day. He hadn't planned on using the weapon, but since Richmond had set the tone for the fight, he had no problem slipping the heavy metal rings over the knuckles of his right hand.
Reaching back and cocking his arm, Ryan threw his fist forward, catching the downed sec man in the back of the head. The brass rings broke through Richmond's skull, allowing Ryan's knuckles to put a fist-sized hole in the man's head.
He was chilled instantly.
But Ryan wanted to make sure and threw four more punches before climbing off the body. He rose to the sounds of a rousing cheer.
Grundwold chose that moment to ring the bell, allowing everyone, including the crowd, a chance to rest, and giving the mutant Hambly an even chance of recovering from his wounds.
Ryan picked up his panga, then sat to catch his breath. He checked the pant leg that had been cut open and found the skin beneath unbroken.
"Are you hurt?" Mildred asked, handing Ryan a bottle of water.
Ryan upended the bottle and gulped down the water.
"I don't like the odds in this next round," Brody muttered.
"What do you mean?" Mildred asked. "There's only four of them." She cracked a smile for Ryan and winked at Brody. "I know what you're saying. I don't trust the four of them to fight fair."
"Who's been fighting fairly?" Ryan asked.
Mildred let out a small disgusted laugh, then excused herself. "Sorry to run, but I've got a dying mutie the baron wants mended. Good luck."
"Thanks," Ryan said, passing the water bottle to Brody.
Mildred took a few steps, then suddenly turned back. "Almost forgot. Krysty sends her love."
Ryan looked up at the stage and saw Krysty sitting there at the baron's side. The afternoon sun shone brightly against her hair, turning it the color of crimson fire. She waved at Ryan then, giving him a thumbs-up and blowing him a gentle kiss that was hidden from the view of the baron.
Ryan felt revitalized and decided that despite what Brody had said, the odds in the next round suited him just fine.
Chapter Twenty-Six
"How are you enjoying the contest, my pretty?" Baron Fox asked Krysty.
The titian-haired beauty looked away from her lover and said, "It's very, very bloody…and violent."
"Indeed it is. And exciting."
Krysty shrugged. "I suppose it is, if you like that sort of thing…chilling people for no reason."
"Do you find it exciting?" the baron asked.
"I've seen plenty of men chilled in my life. Some deserved it, some didn't, but it's almost always a waste of life."
That seemed to excite the baron further. "I bet you have seen plenty of dead men, even chilled a few of them yourself, hey?"
"A few."
"Oh, you must tell me about them sometime…in precise detail."
"If you like."
The baron raised his hand, summoning both sec chief Grundwold and Norman Bauer to his side. He spoke discreetly in each man's ear, and they left quickly to carry out their orders.
In minutes, Norman Bauer returned w
ith a young red-haired girl with a full figure and pretty face. The look on her face was a mixture of excitement and fear.
The baron looked over the girl. "Excellent!" he said. Then he leaned back and pulled open his bathrobe to expose himself. Without a moment's hesitation the girl knelt between the baron's open legs and took him into her mouth.
"Better," the baron muttered. "Much better."
GRUNWOLD APPROACHED Ryan, a hard, angry look in his eye. "The baron wants no surprises this time around. No more extra weapons."
Ryan looked up at the baron on the stage and saw the girl knelt between his legs, her head moving up and down in a slow and regular rhythm. "The baron wants a lot of things."
"And he gets what he wants."
"That so?" Ryan said.
"Yes, always. And now he wants you to take off the rest of your clothes," the sec chief stated.
"What?" Brody shouted.
Ryan just looked at the sec chief, wondering how such a competent sec man could become the baron's whipping boy.
The sec chief sighed. "All of you. Mog and his men, too."
"What if we refuse?" Ryan asked.
Grundwold looked up at one of the towers overlooking the circle and signaled one of the men.
The crackle of blasterfire erupted suddenly, and Ryan could hear the rounds whizzing into the ground by his feet, throwing up small clouds of dust on impact. The sec man firing from the tower drew a line in the sand neatly between Ryan and the sec chief, delivering the sec chiefs message loud and clear.
Ryan began undoing his belt.
"I knew you'd see it the baron's way."
The one-eyed man stared at the sec chief. "Does the baron always get what he wants from his sec slaves, too?"
Grundwold seemed confused by Ryan's words, but slowly their meaning became understood. "If you two are lucky enough to make it out of this circle, I'll see to it that you wished you hadn't said that."
Ryan stood his ground, speaking through slightly clenched teeth. "When I get out of this circle, you'll be wishing I hadn't, too."
Axler, James - Deathlands 61 - Skydark Spawn Page 16