“Of course there’s something he isn’t telling us,” Lloyd agrees, exasperated by the circular conversation. He grabs a sombrero and puts it on, striking a pose like he is on the cover of a magazine. “Does this hat make my nose look big? I’d ask about the butt, but I’m not really sure if I have one. Genetic curse means it’s always been a surfboard back there. I miss Katie. Also kind of Emily, but only how she bends over.”
“Maybe you should use your coin to get laid,” Cassidy states while flipping through a rack of shirts. She is barely paying attention to the clothes, her mind focused more on what to expect from Commodus. “Just tired of surprises. The man is friendly and seems fair. Yet, I get a sense of paranoia from him. There are cameras all over the place, which makes me wonder about stealing being frowned upon. Can’t see any way a person would get away with a crime since there’s nowhere to hide.”
“Stop stressing and try to enjoy a casual shopping spree.”
“I can only get one thing, so I don’t see how this is casual or stress free.”
“Everything can be that way if you believe it can.”
“Very wise, Confucius.”
“Who? I was going for that telekinetic puppet, but I can never get the speech pattern right.”
Giving up on finding clothes, Cassidy thanks the storeowner for letting them browse and heads for a nearby weapon shop. Everything is said to be locally made, the quality of some items better than others. A collection of swords acts as a timeline of the creator’s training with the ones in the back looking pitiful. Knowing that she has knives in the jeep, Cassidy figures the coin would be wasted in here. Returning to the street, she finds Lloyd chatting with a naked man wearing a strategically placed sign. The advertisement is for a nearby restaurant that boasts about having the best chicken wings in Battle Mountain. Cassidy smirks at the cartoon of a flaming rooster extending two middle fingers above its head.
The crackle of a microphone erupts over loudspeakers that are hidden around the resort, the noise making everyone cringe. An unnerving silence falls over the area and people hurry to get out of the middle of the street. Unlike the vendors and tourists, Lloyd stands his ground and excitedly bounces on his toes like he is jumping rope. Not wanting trouble, Cassidy heads for the nearest doorway with the intention of watching what happens. The urgent pointing of the crowd brings her attention to a lamppost, giving her enough time to leap away from an incoming bullwhip. Perched on the iron pole is one of the champion groupies, who is now dressed in spandex shorts and a belly-baring top.
“Time for a spontaneous public match!” an announcer screams over the loudspeaker. The crowd cheers while Cassidy dodges another blow of the whip and slips out of her pea coat to avoid it getting damaged. “Today we have an exciting one-on-one treat. That means the giddy man in orange pants has to stay out of this. Our combatants are the always popular Dinah and our newest female fighter, Cassidy. Nobody knows what this mysterious blonde can do, but she came with a jeep full of weapons. Let’s see how she does with her fists!”
“A warning would have been fucking nice!” Cassidy shouts, causing parents to cover their children’s ears. She backs away from her opponent and tries to see if there is a way to get around the whip. “Why would you even have a fight like this? Who could possibly be . . . All of the fucking cameras. I’m going to wring that man’s oversized neck for doing this to me.”
“A warrior must always be ready for battle,” Dinah responds, the brunette switching hands before attacking. The abrupt change helps her hit Cassidy’s thigh, the blow leaving a bleeding welt beneath the woman’s jeans. “I need one more win to reach the next level. Not a big fan of taking on a newbie, but I’m impatient. Besides, you look like somebody who can give me a decent challenge.”
Cassidy keeps moving until she is used to the dull pain in her leg and dodges another crack of the whip. Seeing an opening, she stomps on the weapon and pins it to the ground. She is about to take advantage of her surprised opponent when Lloyd throws a live snake to her. The serpent wraps around Cassidy’s neck for a brief moment, letting go when she stumbles away and yanks it over her head. Not wanting to hurt the animal, the angry woman hands it to the nearest spectator who holds it up like a souvenir. With a glare aimed at her friend, the blonde ducks the whip and charges only to get caught by the shirt and flipped onto her back.
“Sorry about that! Thought you could scare her with it!” Lloyd shouts before sliding a pair of glasses across the ground. He tosses a set of vampire fangs as well, but they are grabbed by the wind and tossed into a fountain. “Put on the glasses and look for a green orb. That’s the only way to get the good ending!”
“What’s wrong with him?” Dinah asks, grabbing her opponent by the hair. She struggles to get a solid grip, which gives the announcers time to list her previous victories. “Seriously, your friend is singing about whipping things and gyrating his hips. It’s creeping me out. Is he brain damaged?”
“Honestly, I haven’t figure that out yet,” Cassidy replies, rearing back with both feet to knock the other woman away. She is yanked onto her back by her hair, but rolls to her knees and delivering a sloppy tackle. “Whip isn’t any good if I’m this close.”
Dinah screams in the blonde’s ear before releasing her grip and wrapping her weapon around her opponent’s neck. Cassidy is helpless as she is flipped over and dragged to her feet for a toss that she jumps with to avoid getting strangled. It is pure luck that she blocks the knee heading for her stomach, but she is unable to escape the whip. Stumbling and leading her opponent around the street, Cassidy is about to black out when she bumps against a fountain shaped like an ancient gladiator. Out of desperation, she falls backwards and tries to slam Dinah’s face against the marble figure. Her head is plunging underwater when she hears the woman yelp in surprise and the whip is released. Scrambling out of the fountain, Cassidy gasps for air and tosses the discarded weapon over her shoulder. She watches her opponent rub at her eye, which is already becoming swollen and ugly.
“And the fan favorite takes a stone penis to the face,” the announcer says to get a laugh from the crowd. He clears his throat when the fighter looks at the nearest camera and runs her finger across her throat. “Sorry. It looks like Cassidy won’t go down without a fight. Dinah may have to swallow her pride and get dirty here. Without her signature weapon, she’s going to have a hard time getting a handle on her spirited opponent.”
“Does he realize what he’s saying?” Cassidy asks, tying her hair up with a rubber band. She sidesteps Dinah’s charge and curses under her breath when the brunette recovers the whip. “Not much of a threat without that thing. Guess I’ll have to start using weapons too.”
“I doubt you’re hiding anything useful,” Dinah replies, cracking the whip in the air to the cheer of the crowd. She mirrors the blonde’s movements to make sure the woman remains on the side of her good eye. “This is only your first match. No harm in surrendering and learning from your mistakes. An early loss doesn’t cost you anything. Just goes on your record and means it will take longer to get to the next level.”
“Don’t do it!” Lloyd exclaims from the sideline. He grins when the combatants look at him, both expecting something odd to come out of his mouth. “I was going to say that a loss would delay us. Okay, I was really going to say that I have more whip-based jokes and references to make. Hey, can you get another whip and talk in a Russian accent for a little?”
“Seriously, what asylum did you-”
A garbage can lid hurtles through the air and strikes Dinah in the side of the head, the ringing blow scrambling her brain. She shakes her head clear only to see a large umbrella jabbing at her like a spear. The ungainly weapon never hits and she delivers several strikes across her opponent’s chest and legs. Bleeding cuts and long bruises threaten to slow the blonde down, but she refuses to back down. The painful barrage is stopped when Cassidy opens the umbrella and uses it as a shield. A strong wind catches the dome of fabric and drags her with
enough force that she leaves the ground for half a second. Dinah snags an exposed ankle with her whip and is surprised when her opponent spins like a ballerina to get closer. By the time Cassidy is within reach, her leg is wrapped in most of the weapon and a simple kick removes it from the brunette’s hands. A solid punch to Dinah’s other eye sends the woman falling onto her butt and she rolls away to avoid getting stomped on.
With the rough cord still around her leg, Cassidy cracks her knuckles and makes a few awkward hops. She knows there is no time to untangle herself, so she picks up a discarded pogo stick. Instead of riding the toy like Lloyd is loudly suggesting, she wields it like a club and catches the charging Dinah in the ribs. A loud snap causes the crowd to groan in sympathy while the more experienced fighter falls to her knees. Not wanting the champion to get up, Cassidy attempts to jab her in the shoulder and break a collarbone. She misses and rips the pogo stick along Dinah’s back while catching the brunette’s hair tangled in the exposed spring. Curious about what will happen, Cassidy bangs the toy against the ground and hears the other woman scream as if she is being scalped.
“There’s no harm in surrendering,” the blonde states, realizing that her shirt is covered in tears. She bounces the pogo stick again when she notices the blood flowing under the destroyed top. “This fight is getting ridiculous, so give up already. I’m only passing through while you’re a local. More than enough opportunities for you to reach the next level.”
Screaming in defiance, Dinah draws a knife and slices off her hair. Cassidy tosses the pogo stick aside and bounces away while struggling out of the whip. Hoping to keep the enraged woman at bay, she attempts to use the weapon and succeeds in striking herself in the back of the head. The crowd laughs at the comical accident, a few kids shouting that she now has red paint in her hair. Flinging the whip at Dinah’s face, Cassidy looks for another weapon and settles for throwing randomly discarded souvenirs. The few items that hit are too soft to do any damage, but they are enough to prevent the veteran from closing the distance.
Eventually, Cassidy backs against a statue shaped like a roaring lion and there is nothing within reach for her to use as either protection or a projectile. She braces herself for Dinah’s attack and lunges forward to catch the brunette by the wrist. Wrestling over the knife, it is obvious that Cassidy is going to lose if she does not think of something soon. Before her shaky arms give out, the blonde lets go of her opponent and steps to the side. She grabs Dinah by the back of the head and rushes forward to jam the woman into the lion statue’s mouth. It is a tight fit and the teeth scratch the fighter’s skin, making it very dangerous to yank herself free. Trapped and in pain, Dinah stops struggling and stands with arms crossed and a foot tapping on the ground.
“You win,” she says, signaling her surrender by giving a thumbs down to the cameras. A group of men and women in togas hurry out of the crowd, two of them having borrowed chisels from a store to get the fighter out of the statue. “This definitely falls under entertaining. Keep in mind that you won’t have so many toys in the arena. Might want to use your coin to buy a weapon that suits your style.”
“I got a better idea,” Cassidy says while she limps over to a nearby store. She grabs a fist-sized caramel apple off a shelf and tosses the coin to the owner. “Haven’t had one of these since I was a kid. This town can give me its best shot. I won’t back down and I’ll always find a way to survive. For now, I think I deserve something sweet.”
The first bite of the treat is so delicious that Cassidy barely notices her arm being raised and the crowd cheering.
*****
With Cassidy resting in Commodus’s viewing box, Lloyd feels oddly isolated in the middle of the arena. His machete is strapped to his side while he checks his paintball gun, the non-lethal firearm earning a few laughs from the crowd. Half of the seats are empty, most people uninterested in a new face going against a lower tier fighter. Lloyd can tell that the announcers and Commodus are disappointed in the turn out, but he does not care in the slightest. This match is for money and to have some fun at someone else’s expense. Wanting the experience to last as long as possible, the bloodthirsty killer gently places the paintball gun on the ground. He considers doing the same with the machete, but decides it is better to wait until he sees what his opponent is using. Noticing the large clock on the side of the announcer’s tower, Lloyd wipes his mouth and subtly slips his daily pill under his tongue.
The distant doors open with a creak and the crowd cheers at the sight of a slender man wearing a white suit. His head is covered by a leather fedora that is adorned with a sapphire band of sequins, which sparkles as if made from real gems. With an exaggerated flick of his wrists, the man reveals a pair of switchblades and gets the audience excited by juggling them. The fighter reveals glistening teeth with a smile that falters when he sees Lloyd yawning and scratching his armpit.
“I swear I’m going to pass out laughing if this guy breaks into a dance number,” the serial killer mutters, drawing his own weapon. Not to be outdone, he tosses the machete from one hand to the other and strikes poses that revolve around thrusting out his groin. “Maybe I should end this quickly and make a public challenge. It would be really stupid for me to play around and take a few cuts from this gangster movie reject.”
“Welcome to our first match of the night!” the announcer declares before yawning. He waits for the mild eruption of applause to die down, the noise not even loud enough to echo. “To get you ready for the main events, we have a man with two wins under his belt. After scarring his last opponent, he’s looking to make another impact. Give a loud cheer for The Sapphire Gentleman! His opponent is a newcomer to Battle Mountain known as Lloyd and that’s all we have on him. Supposedly he bought his shirt specifically for this match and I assume it’s decorated with a warrior holding a sword and . . . is that a metal donut in her other hand? No idea and the fighters are ready, so all betting is closed. Let’s get this match started!”
Lloyd only makes it a few steps before another figure leaps out of the stands and crouches behind his opponent. Fearing that the local fighter will steal its kill, the Half-Dead snaps the Sapphire Gentleman’s neck and smashes his head into the ground. Unable to get to Cassidy, the assassin is more than happy to eliminate Lloyd and wait for her to be alone. It stops when the crowd cheers and more people swarm into the seats, the news of the infamous creature’s appearance spreading through the resort like an unstoppable fire. Confused by the noise and suffering from not having had medicine in several days the Half-Dead unleashes a gurgling hiss and tears at its ragged flesh. The surge of fresh pain helps it focus on Lloyd, but it is surprised to find that its target is grinning and removing his new shirt.
“Get out of there, Lloyd!” Cassidy shouts from high above. She is angrily fighting against Commodus, who has her in one arm to keep her safe in the box. “Give me my gun, so I can help him. He can’t win with his bare hands.”
“I see in his eyes that he believes he can,” the muscular man states, nodding his head toward a screen. He licks his lips at the same time Lloyd does, the camera having zoomed in on the serial killer’s face. “There is a spark that I want to see grow into an inferno. Your friend wishes to defeat the monster and it would be wrong to stop him. Besides, this is the biggest crowd we’ve had for an opening match in months.”
Back in the arena, Lloyd walks forward and wipes sweat from his brow. Flicking the droplets at the approaching Half-Dead, he imagines them sizzling on the radioactive creature’s skin. He feels queasy getting so close to the assassin, but it is not nearly as debilitating as he expected. Feeding off the excited crowd and his own bloodlust, Lloyd sprints forward and switches the machete to his left hand. The Half-Dead follows the weapon and prepares for the slash, so it is caught entirely by surprise when the serial killer delivers a jaw-snapping punch to the face. There are mild burns on Lloyd’s knuckles from the brief contact, but he jumps back and holds out his arms to reveal he is still in the fight.
“Did . . . Wait . . . No fucking way . . . The newcomer just punched a fucking Half-Dead with his bare hand!” the announcer shouts, stirring the stunned crowd. Everyone is on their feet to watch the spectacle, all of them whispering their theories on how the outsider can stand up to the toxic creature. “We might be looking at a new type of human here. Maybe he has a natural resistance to radiation or escaped from being altered by the Half-Deads in DC. I don’t know and all I want to do is see how this match plays out. All betting stations are open for the next two minutes and we have people in the stands to help if you can’t get there in time. Enjoy this one of a kind experience! I know I will.”
Having struck the Half-Dead a few more times, Lloyd is surprised by how easy it is to wail on the assassin. He guesses the creature has never had to deal with something that could hurt it at close range. A gurgling in his stomach makes him burp, which he assumes is another side-effect of the experimental pills the twins gave him in South Bend. So far, they have only dulled his stronger impulses and made him a little sleepy if he gets too worked up. If the worst he has to deal with is indigestion to get his hands on the Half-Dead then Lloyd is more than happy to spend a week with a twisted stomach.
Delivering another punch to the assassin’s side, the killer notices that his skin is sticking to his enemy and worries that his resistance is starting to fade. Finally snapping out of its fear and shock, the Half-Dead grabs Lloyd by the neck and hurls him against the far wall. He lands next to his paintball gun, which he ignores because there is no reason to go non-lethal. Stretching his back and shoulders, he waits for the assassin to get closer and lashes out with the machete to sever three gnarled fingers. The lost digits do nothing to slow the Half-Dead, but Lloyd ducks under its grab and slashes into its ribs. A fist knocks him upside the head and he flips onto his back before clumsily rolling out of reach.
“I think we gave them a good show, but I’m about to puke,” Lloyd mutters, his head spinning for a terrifying moment. Seeing the assassin lunge forward, he jumps back and takes a deep breath. “From one monster to another, you suck at your job.”
Crossing Bedlam Page 29