by Jacob Rayne
His legs buckled as the air exploded out of him.
He saw stars now, his chest heaving as he desperately tried to draw breath.
Whoever had hit him moved in for another strike, but he gained the sense to roll just as the chunk of metal bar came down.
As he rolled, he lashed out with the knife, cutting a deep furrow in his attacker’s calf.
The Grim screamed and fell to his knees, hands cupped to his bleeding limb.
‘Just stop, you’re only making us mad,’ Old Jimmy said. The grin had not left his face.
Davey lashed out at his groin as he moved above him.
Old Jimmy cried out in dismay and moved back.
Ain’t no way you can fight them all off.
You need to run.
Now.
Get on your feet and run, damn it!
Scream.
Make as much noise as you can.
And pray like fuck someone hears you.
He staggered to his feet, aimed a wild knife swing at Old Jimmy’s face – missing by some distance, but seeming to put the fear of the gods into the old man.
There was a gap of maybe six feet between the two Grims on the other side of the circle, and he darted for it as fast as his legs could carry him.
They went to close the gap, but he barged through just as their arms began to link.
‘Catch him,’ Old Jimmy hissed. ‘I want my boy meat.’
Davey blundered through the trees, having no idea where he was going.
He knew only that he needed to get out of the clearing.
The Grims were fast for old men.
Terrifyingly fast.
Davey’s feet pumped the ground hard, but they were never far behind.
He didn’t dare to look back as he knew this would have slowed him down.
But he could hear their footsteps.
Could smell the sour stench of their body odour.
He began to feel like he was getting a bit of a head start on them, but he wasn’t sure how long he could keep up this pace.
It began to feel like he was wading through treacle.
His chest heaved.
When he saw the camp appear from between the trees, he began to gain hope.
He could see other Grims there.
He shouted to them, but his cries were lost beneath another ripple of explosions and cheers.
If it wasn’t for those fucking explosions they’d have heard me, he mourned.
Just as he began to gain ground on the Grims, he misplaced his foot and tripped over a root.
He fell forwards, landing hard on the top of his head.
The world did a somersault and he knew he had to get back to his feet and keep on running, but his legs just wouldn’t let him.
The combination of the running and the beating he’d taken had fucked his co-ordination.
He cried out at the unfairness of it all.
The head start he’d pumped his legs so hard for disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Old Jimmy and his four remaining cronies were upon him before he had time to even curse let alone stand up.
Their booted feet sunk into his head and abdomen, knocking out what little fight he had left in him.
Old Jimmy grabbed him by the back of the neck in a vicelike grip and shoved him down onto his belly.
Wet mud soaked into his shirt.
Small stones stabbed into his frail flesh.
But none of this mattered when the cold blade touched his neck, right above his pounding jugular.
The pungent scent of Old Jimmy’s breath hit his nostrils like a bony fist.
‘By, sonny, a chase like that sure does get the blood pumping,’ he hissed.
Davey tried to lash out with his knife, but a boot stomped down hard on his wrist, pinning it to the floor.
White hot pain flared in his hand, making him let go of the knife.
He heard Billy’s wheezing laugh above him: ‘Not so fucking cocky now, huh, Joker?’
Davey tried to turn, but he was pinned, helpless, to the floor.
‘I told you we’d welcome you with open arms,’ Billy chuckled away.
The others joined in.
‘So… let’s get welcoming, lads,’ Old Jimmy laughed.
‘We gonna eat him now?’ asked the Grim who’d had the metal bar.
‘I wanna do the other thing,’ Billy grinned.
‘Yeah, me too,’ said the other Grim.
Old Jimmy giggled, an ominous yet curiously childlike sound. ‘I think I’ll do both.’
‘Billy too,’ Billy wheezed.
‘Hey, there’s plenty of time for all of us to… welcome… him,’ Old Jimmy laughed, and cut Davey’s belt with one hard thrust of his knife.
When Davey felt his trousers being pulled down past his thighs, he fought harder than he ever had in his life.
But it wasn’t enough.
1.11
As soon as Davey’s eyelids fluttered open, sunlight streamed in, like shards of glass in his retinas.
His head pounded.
He ached from arsehole to eyelids.
He couldn’t remember what had happened.
Wasn’t sure he wanted to; especially when he discovered his trousers were still pulled down around his ankles.
Whimpering, he pulled them back up.
Somehow the fact that the bag containing his bulging wallet had gone missing was the least upsetting part of the ordeal.
The fact that he wasn’t on a spit over a roaring fire was comforting, but he had no idea where he was or how he’d got here.
A pain flared in the back of his neck.
Where Old Jimmy’s hand had crushed in, pinning him belly down on the leafy floor.
The memory was scarred into his mind like a razor carving through soft flesh.
Holy shit, they didn’t?
Did they?
He remembered their last words before he’d slumped into darkness.
Before his battered body had finally let go of consciousness.
Hey, there’s plenty of time for all of us to… welcome… him.
Then Old Jimmy’s unsettling high-pitched giggle.
Icewater flooded through his veins.
‘They’re going to regret ever seeing your face,’ a gruff voice said.
He jumped as he hadn’t been aware that there’d been anyone there.
He turned as fast as his broken body would allow and saw Max, one of the King’s guards, standing over him.
Blood dripped from the blade in his right hand.
The sound of the drops landing on the dry leaves by Davey’s head seemed ridiculously loud.
‘What happened?’ Blood poured from Davey’s lips as he spoke.
‘A gang of child murderers lured you into the woods and tried to do very bad things to you. It was Ollie, the Grim from the bait cabin, who sent us looking for you. Said you were looking out of your depth and could do with a helping hand. Thank the Gods we found you in time.’
Davey sobbed as the thought of what had happened – and what, without the intervention of the royal guards, was just about to happen – hit him.
‘Hey, it’s ok,’ Max said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Davey recoiled from the grip, hating contact.
‘They didn’t get to…’ Max trailed off.
Davey said nothing, but he felt a small flicker of relief flood into him.
‘Come on, let’s get you fixed up,’ Max said.
Max hoisted Davey over his shoulder with the bare minimum of effort.
He carried him for what seemed like a long time, to a white wooden building.
Inside, it could have been a snapshot from the days before the world went sour.
White-coated doctors and nurses ran around what was a fully-constructed hospital ward.
They were clean-cut, a far-cry from the steam-huffing rabble he’d seen in other parts of the Freelands.
‘This young gentleman needs treatment right now,
’ Max told the nearest doctor. His tone indicated that there was to be no discussion on the matter.
The doctor nodded. ‘Put him in the first booth on the left. I’ll move him to the top of my list.’
Max thanked him and laid Davey carefully down on the bed.
‘Thank you,’ Davey said. ‘For everything.’
Max smiled. ‘My pleasure.’
‘What will you do with them?’ Davey said.
Max’s smile widened. ‘I’ll let your next guest decide that.’
Davey was gobsmacked when the curtain parted to reveal all seven feet of King Solomon.
His face was grave, concern etched into his brow.
‘I came as soon as I heard what happened to you, Davey lad,’ the King said.
‘Thank you.’
‘I’m deeply sorry that this has happened to you in my Freelands. I feel responsible. I hope you understand that this is not the way my people behave.’
‘Yes I do. I felt safe up until I bumped into them.’
‘Well, you can rest assured that there will be retribution. This is not something that can go unpunished.’
Davey nodded. ‘Good. I think they were going to…’ Tears began to fill his eyes as the ordeal hit him anew.
The King clapped a hand on his shoulder. ‘Relax. Don’t think about it. It’s over now. The doctor is outside. I will speak to you after he has fixed you up.’
The King welcomed the doctor in with a firm handshake. ‘Take special care of him, Doctor,’ he smiled.
The doctor nodded.
‘Do you need anything, Davey?’ the King said.
‘I’m hungry.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ the King said.
I’m being waited on by a fucking King, Davey thought. This is the craziest goddamned thing.
The doctor poked and prodded him and told him he had some swelling but nothing was broken.
‘I hesitate to say you’ve been lucky,’ he began. ‘But your injuries could have been a lot worse.’
At this, Davey burst into tears.
‘I’m sorry,’ the doctor said, before scuttling out.
A few minutes into Davey’s crying jag, the King returned clutching a pizza box.
He put it to one side and hugged Davey tight to him.
The King was strong, Davey could feel that in the embrace.
He felt safe.
‘It’s ok,’ the King said. ‘They can’t hurt you now.’
Davey’s tears ceased after a few more sniffs.
‘Here, I managed to scrounge this,’ the King said, passing him the pizza. ‘I hope you like pepperoni.’
Davey grinned up at him. The jagged teeth in the front of his mouth felt strange against his lips.
‘As soon as you are out of here, I’ve got a special surprise for you.’
Davey smiled, and began to eat.
That night’s sleep in the hospital was plagued with nightmares from his ordeal.
He kept seeing Old Jimmy’s leering grin as he moved in, the knife glinting in his hand.
Their words echoed ominously around the trees.
In this dream he was naked and tied to a spit over a roaring fire.
Old Jimmy – also naked – moved around him, throwing herbs and spices into his crackling flesh.
The others leered and watched, drool spilling over their lips as they drew in the scent of his seared flesh.
Then, their teeth sharpened and blood-smeared, they came in for the first taste.
He woke screaming, the bedsheets plastered to him with his rancid sweat.
The doctors came in and sedated him in the end.
The next morning, the doctor came in and told him that he was free to go.
Three of the King’s personal guards greeted him outside the makeshift hospital. They were armed in the same way as they had been when he’d seen them in the King’s compound; to the teeth.
‘The King has requested your presence. You’re to come with us.’
Davey nodded.
Even if he’d had the energy to argue he didn’t want to be alone.
‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s a surprise,’ the guard beamed.
He followed them through the tin sector and he once again marvelled at the sheer scale of it.
It felt like he was being led through the VIP entrance, as he saw things that he felt like he wasn’t meant to have seen.
There were buildings that looked like factories in the middle of the compound.
His jaw dropped when he heard the low sound of cows mooing from their general direction.
He could smell food being made and what he guessed were drugs being made.
There was a building which looked like it was a water purification plant.
This area was a hive of activity.
But when a siren went off, the Grims all turned and started moving in the same direction as Davey and his entourage.
After a long journey through what looked like the tenement’s industrial sector, they came upon a huge clearing.
At the end of the clearing lay a building which looked very similar to the photos he’d seen in the old days when they used to learn about the outside world in school.
It reminded him of the coliseum, which he’d read about online before the internet was taken down.
Closer up, it looked like an abandoned football stadium that had been remodelled to look like a gladiator’s arena.
Loads of raised stone seats, banked so that the seats behind could see over the ones in front.
A thick black tarp rustled overhead.
It was to the very highest of the seats that Davey was led.
The King was there already in a private booth which looked suspiciously like a stolen builder’s lockup, but lined with plush finery.
Again, up close, it turned out to be carpets nailed to the walls, but still, he couldn’t fault the effort that had been made.
King Solomon had a throne here, but it was much more modest – and less disturbing – than the throne of bones he’d had in his compound.
‘Ah, Davey lad. Pleased you’re feeling better, my friend,’ he beamed. ‘Come, sit with me.’
‘What’s all this?’ Davey asked.
The King held a finger to his own lips to shush him.
The same finger raised to point out to the impressively made coliseum.
Davey examined it more thoroughly.
At first, the seats had looked to be raised up high into the sky.
He wondered how this was possible, but further inspection made it clear that the arena was sunken into the floor and the highest of the seats were actually only a few dozen feet above the floor level of the rest of the camp.
The arena floor was mostly flat, concrete, roughly the size of a football pitch.
This confirmed Davey’s suspicion that it was a converted football stadium.
In the very centre was a wooden structure – a vertical beam with a shorter horizontal beam at the top – that Davey recognised from history lessons as a gallows.
A thick rope hung from the end of the horizontal beam.
There was a sunken pit in the floor, surrounded by what looked like a huge pile of stones.
‘What is this?’ Davey said.
The King didn’t get to reply as a huge roar went up.
The large wooden gates of the arena opened and what looked to be thousands of Grims rushed inside, clamouring – almost fighting – for a place at the front.
There was a sea of them, stretched out below their seats.
The noise the Grims made was unreal; Davey was sure it would have been heard back in the city proper.
The volume went up a few dozen decibels when the prisoners were dragged in by the King’s armed guards.
The King let the noise die down a little, then stood.
At once, everyone in the place went silent.
1.12
The silence was so sudden that Davey would have sworn that he’d gone
deaf.
‘Dear Grims of the Freelands,’ the King boomed, seemingly without a microphone. ‘Thank you for your attendance here today. We are all here to witness the punishment of those who have seen fit to abuse one of our guests.’
A great jeering cry went up at this.
‘Fucking string ’em up,’ one Grim shouted through the din.
The King smiled.
He held his arm out to indicate Davey. ‘This young man came here a few nights ago seeking sanctuary. I offered him the standard welcome. He was on his way to convert his money into the currency of the Freelands when these men attacked him. I won’t go into details, but suffice to say they deserve everything that is coming to them.’
The crowd again jeered and booed.
Projectiles were hurled at the men, who looked in a much worse state than they’d been when Davey had left them.
‘Alright, alright,’ the King said. Again the silence was sudden and absolute. ‘So the purpose of today’s celebration is twofold; firstly, to punish those who have seen fit to violate the rules I have set for my people. And secondly, to act as a deterrent to those thinking of following a similar course of action in the future. Crime will not be tolerated here. We are a community. We look after one another. We do not rob, attack or kill each other. Anyone breaking these rules will live just long enough to regret it.’
The crowd roared their approval.
‘Now,’ the King said, ‘Feel free to grab some hooch or medicine, and join me in a toast. To health, to happiness, to harmony. To the Freelands.’
‘To the Freelands,’ the crowd roared. ‘And to King Solomon.’
Drinks were hoisted and sent down greedy throats.
‘Now, let’s get this party started,’ the King roared to deafening applause.
He offered Davey a pair of binoculars which looked to have been fashioned by gaffa-taping a pair of discarded telescope lenses at the end of two toilet roll tubes.
Davey took them, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to see what was going to happen.
As Davey scanned the line of prisoners, a pang of alarm went through him.
‘Old Jimmy’s not there,’ he said.
The King’s brow furrowed.
‘He must have got away.’
‘Not to worry. We’ll find him after the celebration. Relax and enjoy the show.’
Tia suddenly appeared from nowhere, squealing with glee as she jumped onto her father’s lap.