by Simon Archer
Evan wasted no time bringing his whip around to my right side, looking to get a full wrap on my torso. I jumped back but not far enough. Searing pain blazed to life as the tip cut across my ribs. The wound was deep, and the skin spread open with each heaving breath I took. Blood started to drip down my side. My contact advantage had just been lost, and the blue lights lit up again.
I don’t know why I had thought there would be more time between challenges being added. I took a split second again to focus on what was new to the match. This time it was the Platform itself. Two sections of it on either side of the centerline had started to vibrate rapidly. I was behind the section on my side, but Evan was standing on his. I saw him jump back to solid ground. The challenge wasn’t the vibration. It was the sandpaper floor grinding against bare feet.
Evan ran at me, whip overhead spinning in circles. I charged forward, hoping to close the distance before he brought it down. I grabbed the end of my whip and threw it straight out in front of me as hard as I could. Evan didn’t pause. He just ran over the top of it. Right before we collided, I pulled my arm up hard and forced it back down faster than even I thought I could. I saw the wave travel down my whip and bring the end up behind Evan, slicing the length of his back. He arched back against the pain as we collided. That was enough to make him fall backward an instant before I landed on top of him.
It took a second before I heard the wails of pain coming from him. We had landed on a vibrating section of the Platform, and the skin was being sanded off his back. He rolled to his left to get me off of him, and I saw my opportunity.
This is going to hurt, I thought.
Evan grabbed the back of my neck with his left arm to pull me sideways off of him as he rolled. His right arm was coming over his body to punch me in the ribs. I relaxed and let him pull me off him while I reached up and grabbed his shoulder. Using it for leverage, I turned myself sideways and managed to get my legs in front of his swinging arm. I kicked out hard as I felt the skin on my own back being ground off. His arm flew back and landed on the fire-hot edging. He immediately let go of my neck and rolled towards the arm that had metal searing into it. I sat up and slid backward until I was up against my own skin-melting edge. The only thing keeping it from burning me was the thick leather belt I was wearing. Then I planted my feet against his back and kicked with everything I had in me.
He tried grabbing the edge he was rolling towards to brace himself, but the searing pain from the burning metal was too much, and he let go. His huge mass rolled over the hot steel and dropped twenty feet into the pile of dirty needles below.
The screaming of the crowd was deafening, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out Evan’s howls of pain.
I fell forward away from the edge and rolled myself off the vibrating section of Platform. I tried to sit up, but the stabbing pain in my ribs laid me on my back. I laid there, breathing heavily and bleeding for what seemed like hours. The faces of the dolled-up women and cigar-smoke-bellowing men in the crowd spun around me as my eyes closed, and I took a huge breath.
When I opened them a moment later, the announcer was standing over me. I was still on the Platform. My sight was clear again. The faces in the crowd were no longer spinning, and the noise was crisp and loud. The announcer offered me his hand to help me to my feet. He was smiling like he’d just won a new car on The Price is Right.
“You really did it! You lost me a ton of money tonight, but I’ll make it all back next week when you come back!” he said just loud enough for me to hear.
He had the microphone in his hand, and he put it to his mouth. “Ladies and Gentlemen! What’s his name?” he hollered
“CLAAAAAAARK!” the crowd shouted back.
“I SAID, WHAT’S HIS NAME?” the announcer screamed into the microphone again.
“CHAMPION!” the crowd responded this time and then broke into massive cheers.
It took fifteen minutes to get me to the nearby medical room. I was carried off the Platform on a backboard by the two suits that escorted me at the beginning of the match. I had seventeen of the thirty-six stitches I was going to get by the time Theo and Kennedi walked through the curtain that acted as a door to a room, which was just under the Omnicorp skybox.
“They’re saying that was the fastest victory on the Platform to date, you know that?” Theo asked as he stepped up to the table I was lying on.
“Nobody has ever won before at least three of the challenges had been added,” Kennedi added, squeezing my hand.
“Two was enough for tonight,” I replied, happy to see them both. I quietly hoped Theo already had the truck running so we could get the hell out of here.
Kennedi looked up at the nurse. “How bad is the burn on his back?” she inquired.
The nurse looked puzzled and glanced down at me. “You didn’t tell me your back was burnt. You just said that you had road-rash,” she scolded as she tied up the last stitch. She rolled her hand in a circular motion with an impatient look on her face, signaling me to roll over.
“Ten more seconds on that vibration, and you’d be bare muscle tissue instead of skin!” Theo exclaimed.
The nurse started cleaning the road-rash to keep the infection from setting in. I felt Kennedi lean over me. “Where is the burn?” she asked.
I realized what it was she was looking for. “Over there on the chair,” I told her, pointing to a nearby seat.
She walked to the chair and picked up the thick leather belt I had been wearing. Directly in the center was a black wedge burnt almost completely through. Almost.
“Holy hell, boy!” Theo said, walking over to examine the belt. “We would be looking at your kidneys if you hadn’t been wearing that.”
“I had my doubts about whether it would hold, but luck prevailed this time,” I managed to joke.
Kennedi put the belt down and walked back to the table. “Let’s get you home, and I’ll lick you better.”
I felt the nurse pause what she was doing. I could only imagine the look on her face at Kennedi’s comment, and I chuckled.
“That sounds good to me,” I said and started to lift myself off the table. When I was on my feet, the three of us headed back to the ready-room, now guarded by the Men in Black lookalikes, to grab my equipment.
On our way out, we were approached by the announcer. “Mister Clark,” he said excitedly. “Mister Alan Graves has requested a meeting with you in his skybox.”
I didn’t have the energy to argue, so I just nodded at the announcer.
“Great!” He spun on his heel and led us to the cherry picker that would give us the ride up.
11
Theo
When the cherry-picker stopped, we walked to the doorway, and I held the curtain open for Clark and Kennedi to pass through ahead of me. When I entered the room, I purposely hung back by the curtained doorway. It was easier to observe a room the more of it you could see.
I’d figured this meeting would happen since Clark had won but wasn’t sure how it would go. This match was unusual in that it was so short. On the one hand, that was a good thing because a lot of people made a lot of money in a hurry. On the other hand, the entertainment factor was cut short. Crowds, especially this one, were fickle.
“Clark, my Champion!” Alan exclaimed as Clark moved deeper into the room. Kennedi stayed back with me. She looked nervous, although I had no idea what a CG could be nervous about.
“Nice to see you again, Alan.” Clark shook his hand, keeping his arm tucked at his side so as not to open up his stitches.
“Yes! Can I get you a drink?” he offered Clark but didn’t include Kennedi or myself in the offer.
“A rye wouldn’t hurt.” I was surprised Clark accepted. Then again, he had refused the pain medication that the nurse offered him, so maybe I shouldn’t have been.
Alan snapped his finger and the cat girl behind the bar. She jumped like she’d been whipped and immediately put two tumblers on the bar and added two large ice cubes to each one. She reac
hed behind her and grabbed a bottle of Knob Creek rye whiskey off the shelf and poured two fingers in each glass. She hurriedly brought them out to Alan and Clark and then retreated back behind the bar. She looked like she was terrified to be near Alan at all. Once she’d returned to the bar, she posted up in direct-line-of-sight with Kennedi. The two just stared at each other.
“I have something for you,” Alan reached to the inside pocket of his impeccably tailored suit and pulled out a piece of paper. “You didn’t think I’d let you leave without this, do you?” he smirked as he handed it to Clark.
Clark looked at the paper, nodded and tucked it in his pant pocket. “Right. Thank you.”
“No, thank you! What you did on that Platform tonight has never been done before. The buzz is going to draw in a crowd double the size next week. Do you think you can repeat that performance?”
“It’s not that predictable, but surely you know that,” Clark responded tiredly. His voice sounded exactly like I imagined it would if he were rolling his eyes.
“Oh, I know you can’t say for sure,” Alan emphasized, taking a long swig of his whiskey. “How about this, can you draw it out next time instead?”
This was the question I’d been waiting for. The man standing in front of Alan had thirty-six stitches in his side that were still oozing and probably wouldn’t be able to lay on his back for a week, yet Alan wanted Clark to consider extending the event that led to the pain he was in.
“It feels to me like being out there is more about getting out from over that pit without needles in you than it is about watching a clock,” Clark said, his voice sounding short and irritated.
“Of course. You’re right. Forget I said anything at all,” Alan backtracked. “Look, you go home and rest up. I’ll see you back here next week if you’re interested in another fifteen grand.” It was a statement, not a question. I swallowed hard as anger welled inside me.
Out of the blue, I heard Kennedi whisper, “That was all?” Her voice was barely audible.
“What?” I asked her.
Her eyes moved to me with a blank expression for a split second. Then she blinked and looked like she was just now seeing me. “Nothing that can’t wait until later,” was all she said and went back to staring at the other CG in the room. Every so often I’d glance over and think I saw her lips moving ever so slightly, but I didn’t hear her speak again.
“Minus any complications with the healing process which I don’t anticipate, I will be here,” Clark confirmed with Alan. He set his untouched whiskey down on the nearest table and turned towards the door where we were standing.
“Good man!” Alan said jovially and followed Clark.
I held the curtain back for Clark and Kennedi to walk through. I shook Alan’s hand when he offered it to me and let the curtain drop. It didn’t close all the way, though. Before I had the chance to step away, I heard another man’s voice in the room we all just came from. I tried to peer in but couldn’t see who it belonged to.
“How long before he’ll start crafting his matches?” the man asked Alan.
“He’s here for the money but doesn’t want to feel handled,” Alan replied. “Did you notice he had a CG with him?”
“I did,” the mystery voice said.
“Well, she has a defect,” Alan said. “Now, a man like Clark shouldn’t be running around with a defective CG when, in one night, he made us over three million in purse money.”
“What’s your point, Alan?” The other man sounded irritable.
“If he only wants money he earns, and he doesn’t want to be told what to do, what is the fastest way to gain his appreciation?” Alan asked rhetorically. “I’ll tell you... Shiny Penny Syndrome,” Alan ended confidently.
“What the fuck is Shiny Penny Syndrome?” the man asked, growing impatient.
“Think about it. He’s got to want the money for something. He isn’t paying for a house. Hell, he’s staying in a barn loft. He isn’t driving a fancy car. The only thing that man has of any value is his cat girl. And from what I hear from some friends of mine at the farmer’s market, he is rather affectionate toward her,” Alan explained excitedly. “I’m thinking a new CG might just be the shiny penny that gets Clark’s attention and gets him asking how he can help us.”
”Theo,” Clark called to me. “Are you coming?”
I walked away from the curtain as quickly as possible without looking like I was running. I was on the cherry-picker with Clark and Kennedi by the time Alan pulled the curtain back. The three of us waved on our way down.
What the fuck did I get this kid into? I wondered as we made our way to the elevator.
When the elevator reached the top floor, the doors opened, and cheers exploded throughout the crowd of people. Fans immediately began to rush to congratulate Clark and gush over how quick his victory was. I could tell he was more than ready to be done with the place, but these were the people paying for the purse, so he posed for a few pictures and shook a few hands before we finally made our way out.
12
The thirty-minute ride back to Theo’s house was silent. I felt every bump and hole in the road as Theo’s truck sped down the road. Every part of my body was starting to ache. I let out a sigh of relief when we pulled up.
“Come in the house for a minute,” Theo said as we parked.
“I’m really just looking to pass out for twelve hours,” I told him in an attempt to decline politely
“No choice. Bev made food for you, so you’ll have your strength while you heal. She doesn’t care if that’s while you’re sleeping or not,” Theo chuckled and got out of the truck. “Besides, you need a shower.”
Inside we all went straight to the dining room and sat down. Bev had the table laid out already. The places were set with plates and tea mugs, and there was a steaming pot of slow-cooked beef stew sitting in the middle. A few wooden bowls filled with different types of biscuits and rolls and a butter dish were the only other things on the table.
“I heard about the win,” Bev stated as she sat down, giving Theo a sidelong glance. “Henry Blackwell stopped by.”
Theo sat up fast. “What do you mean, he ‘stopped by’?”
“He pulled up in his truck, got out, walked up to the door, and knocked. What do you think I mean?” Bev said sarcastically. “He said to tell you ‘congratulations.’” She nodded at me and turned back to Theo. “And he told me to tell you ‘thank you’ and handed me this.” She pulled an envelope out from under her plate and passed it to Theo.
He paused for a moment before opening it. He glanced inside, closed it, and put it back on the table. “Seventy-five-hundred-dollars,” he whispered.
“It’s the finder’s fee, isn’t it?” Kennedi asked. “Half the amount of the purse goes to the finder of the champion if he is invited back. Or at least that is how it is supposed to work. They rarely actually pay, though.” She was referring to Omnicorp.
Theo looked ashamed. “I didn’t know there was a finder’s fee.” He looked at Kennedi. “How did you?” he asked but didn’t wait for an answer before turning to me. “Clark, I never would’ve taken you there for some kind of payout.
“Look, I am the last person you need to worry about when it comes to making money. I think it’s great that they paid you. You didn’t try to talk me into anything. Hell, I’m pretty sure neither you nor Bev was even going to tell me about it at first. Take the money and do what makes you happy with it!” I put as much lift in my voice as I could muster without pulling my stitches.
I was touched that Theo was worried about what I’d think of the money. I met the man less than a handful of days ago, and sitting there, it felt like we’d known each other a lifetime. Him and Bev are the type of friends that you choose to become family. That I could clearly see.
“Oh, Kennedi, I meant to ask you, what was it you were saying while Clark was talking to Alan?” Theo asked.
“I was talking to the other CG, Krysta. She was behind the bar,” Kennedi answer
ed.
“That poor thing looked like she thought she was going to get beat if she came too close to Alan,” Theo said sadly. He shook his head and refocused. “But I only heard you mumble just the once.”
“Cat hearing,” she said and pointed to her ears with a smile.
I could tell Theo wanted to know more about their conversation, but tonight had been eventful enough. It was time to toast our tea to walking away with a pretty hefty haul for one night’s work.
I turned my attention to the steaming bowl in front of me. I caught the scent of marinated meat and crisp vegetables, and my stomach started rumbling. I was hungrier than I thought. The first bite confirmed that the stew tasted as good as it smelled. The bite-size chunks of beef were so tender they were falling apart, and the broth was thick and rich. I had to fight my fatigue to finish the bowl, but a stew that good couldn’t be wasted.
As soon as I’d swallowed the last of my tea, I slowly stood up. I wanted nothing more than sleep at that moment, but I needed to clean the dirt and oil off of me. Kennedi lept to my side and took me by the arm. She helped me to the bathroom and carefully removed my shirt after she’d turned the water on to warm it before I got in. Then she held my arm again as I stepped into the shower and didn’t let go until she was sure I was stable. The warm water instantly started to relax me. I went to reach up to rub the dirt off my shoulder, and Kennedi gently put her hand on mine.
“Let me take care of you,” she said softly.
She started rubbing her hands slowly down my shoulders and arms, pushing dirt and oil off with the water. Once I was rinsed, she reached for the bottle of body wash on the tub corner and squeezed some into her hands and rubbed them together. She had me take a step back, away from the water, and then she gingerly massaged the lather all over me, being careful not to touch my wounds. When she was satisfied that I was clean, she held my arm while I stepped forward to get under the water again. The lather ran off my body as she rubbed her hands on me, making sure no soap was left. I saw the last of the soap run down the drain before Kennedi reached in front of me and turned the water off. She quickly wrapped me in a towel from a nearby rack and started softly patting me dry.