Wasteland

by Ann Bakshis

  The Dimachaerus is a dangerous weapon, a double-bladed sword able to cut a man in half without the user even really trying. Munera is wielding it like it’s an old friend; her moves are graceful and soft, which is in stark contrast to the sharp and heavy blade.

  “Munera will be battling ten brave souls at one time today,” the announcer states as the crowd begins to settle down. “Men and women who have been selected to try and defeat this champion…a battle to the death.”

  The crowd erupts again as the far right section of the arena floor gives way, a platform rising in its place. Eight men and two women huddle together on the platform, shaking, eyes squinting in the harsh light that falls upon their faces. Their clothing consists of rags, torn pieces of brown cloth dangling from some of their thin frames. One woman sinks to the floor of the platform and begins to weep, while one of the others tries to pull her back onto her feet. They each carry various weapons, but it is clear they won’t help…none of them have combat training.

  I look hard at the faces and I know instantly that these people have been taken from the Wasteland. I lean over to Artemis and ask him if I’m right.

  “Yes, they’re the rejects the Collectors can’t sell and the cities don’t want. Some may have even been citizens at one time, but once you leave you are considered a law-breaker for life and there is no coming back.” He kisses my lips and turns back to his monitor, not interested in the bloodbath that is about to begin as he’s too focused on talking to his fighters.

  The group is huddled together, afraid to move forward. Munera is thinking; I see the intense concentration in her eyes. She is looking for the weakest one to go after first. She crouches down, having chosen her target. I follow her line of sight and see her prey…and a shock of recognition runs through me. I can only hope Artemis doesn’t notice.

  Terrance is hiding in the center of the huddle, his clothes baggy and hanging off of his frame. His skin is pale and his eyes have sunken in slightly. He’s thinner than before. I wonder how he could have gotten caught when Rena’s words echo in my ears.

  “He’s never left, except once. To go look for my brother after he was taken by the Collectors.”

  He must have left to go look for me. I’m the reason he is here to die today.

  I want to scream out his name, tell him to fight, but he can’t hear me over the noise from the crowd. The electric barrier is not up, the arena is unprotected.

  I know what I must do.

  I don’t even think…I just go.

  I tear off my jacket as Artemis grabs for my leg, but I’m too fast. I hurdle over seats as if they were stairs. People yell at me as I fly past them, but I must get to Terrance. Munera starts to lunge forward towards the group. They begin to scatter, moving away from her. She ignores the others. Terrance is her target.

  Munera pulls the Dimachaerus back, readying to plunge it into Terrance as I jump over the wall and onto the arena floor.

  I see a Pugio blade lying on the ground, dropped by one of the men, so I pick it up, causing my arm to tingle. Grabbing the hilt tightly, I swing the weapon back and then forward as I come upon Munera, who is practically on top of Terrance.

  Our blades meet, sending shock waves through both of us. The crowd goes silent. Munera looks at me, bewildered by my unexpected appearance. Her stunned look doesn’t last long as her face grows red with rage. She raises the Dimachaerus again, this time trying to attack me. I jump back, push Terrance down, and come up with my blade, striking hers again.

  I need to get him and the others out of the arena, but I’m not sure how. She strikes again and I counter, knocking her hard on her ass. The platform begins to vibrate slightly, then rises. I push Terrance off of it and I follow suit, both of us landing on the arena floor, only this time I can see the fighters’ holding area. Aidan is running over to us, shouting at me.

  “Meg, what are you doing?”

  “We need to get them out of here, Aidan.”

  His face contorts as if he doesn’t understand what I’m saying.

  I look at Terrance who is clinging to me. “He’s my friend, Aidan, I can’t let him die. Please, you have to help me.”

  Aidan looks at me, his face softens. He nods his head, then disappears.

  A group of fighters gather where Aidan had been standing and gesture for Terrance to jump, saying they will catch him. He looks up at me, tears in his eyes. I pat him on the shoulder, telling him it’s okay.

  Munera is back on her feet, her focus moving to the others that have scattered around the arena. I help Terrance ease his way down into the holding area. Once he is safe, I take off after Munera. As I run towards her, the floor begins to vibrate and I spot Aidan opening one of the floor tiles with another fighter at the opposite end. If I can distract Munera, he and the other fighter can get the rest out.

  I run as fast as I can, the blade slung behind me. My best chance at the moment is to take out her feet. The floor has a nice sheen to it, so I kick off my boots as I run, slide on the metal in my socks, and ram into her legs. We both go down in a pile, legs entangled. Munera kicks my knee, sending waves of pain up my leg. I scream and she grins, as the crowd begins to get into the fight in front of them.

  I keep an eye on Aidan as he is slowly getting the others down below.

  Munera stands up, her blade high above her head, which she begins to thrust down into my direction, so I swing my legs wide and knock her down again. She hits the floor, splitting open her lip. I roll away, trying to get out of her reach. She grabs my ponytail, dragging me in closer. She pulls a small knife from inside her boot and plunges it into my chest, missing my heart by inches.

  The crowd roars louder as I scream again in agony.

  Munera gets up again, blood dripping from her lip onto the floor. She steps on my stomach to keep me from moving. I remove the blade and begin to heal. She raises the Dimachaerus up again, ready to finish me off, but I take her knife and thrust it into her upper thigh. This time she screams. I shove her off of me and stand up.

  “You should be dead,” she screams at me.

  “I’m full of surprises,” I respond as I pick up the Dimachaerus.

  The weapon feels powerful in my hand. I imagine myself dissecting her, cutting her to pieces. My right arm radiates heat as it too is enjoying the power.

  I raise the blade, but pause as I hear a voice in my ears.

  An Antaean must kill the enemy. A soldier built for death leaves no one alive.

  I shake myself and drop the blade.

  Where did that come from?

  Munera is crouched on the ground, blood pouring from her wound.

  “Coward,” she screams.

  I turn my back and begin to walk away. Then the pain starts again, this time radiating from the old wound in my back. Falling forward, I extend my arms out to brace myself. As I hit the ground Munera comes at me again. I raise my right arm to shield her blow with the small knife, which causes her to slit my forearm, the blade slicing all the way down to my palm. I crawl around and reach for the Dimachaerus. She continues her assault on me as I pick up the weapon.

  My arm is red hot, glowing brightly. The Dimachaerus becomes electrified the moment it’s in my hand and I swing, not looking at my target. I hear the crowd gasp as I make contact with Munera, feeling the shudder in the blade, the electricity in the air. I open my eyes as they had been closed and look down at the mess in front of me.

  Her torso is only hanging on to the rest of her by her spinal cord. The flesh is blistered and burned. She gasps several times, body involuntarily twitching, and then she stops moving. I look down at the blade still clutched in my hand. A thick band of blue encircles the blade, swimming around and coming to a point at the tip. I drop it to the ground and the light disappears. That’s when I notice the protective sleeve is gone, the Quantum Stream pulsing brightly. Looking up into the crowd, they sit silently, watching me. Artemis is standing at the edge of the arena floor, beaming from ear to ear. I close my eyes and collapse to
the floor, landing on my knees.

  My life is over.

  My secret exposed.

  Meg is dead…Trea has been reborn.

  Chapter 11

  Artemis strolls out onto the arena floor. He brushes the hair that has fallen out of my ponytail back behind my ears.

  “Welcome home, Trea,” he says, as he helps me to my feet.

  I look up at him, sorrow in my heart, pleasure in my soul.

  I feel as if a switch has been turned on, a cloud lifted from my eyes.

  “It’s good to be home,” I say in a voice I don’t recognize.

  He wraps his arms around me pulling me in tightly as several Regulators enter the arena. Numerous tiles in the center of the floor open, revealing a staircase. The group of us walk down in silence while the announcer declares the events for today have been canceled and will resume tomorrow at noon. We walk through the holding area, passing fighters too stunned to speak. I glance around but don’t see Aidan or the others.

  We move through the expanse and further into the arena’s sublevel, stopping outside an elevator that is encased in steel. One of the Regulators enters a code onto a screen by the door, which slides open upon acceptance. Artemis and I go inside alone and get out when we reach the top.

  The room we enter is finely decorated in plush red carpeting, white wainscoting, deep cushioned couches, white granite support columns, and a window expanding the length of the room with a view of the entire stadium. The elevator door closes behind us, preventing our escape. I spot an older man in a tailored gray suit standing to the far right side of the windows overlooking the arena. He holds a small tumbler in his hand filled with ice and a caramel colored liquid. He doesn’t turn to look at us, but I can sense his anger.

  “You have been holding out on me, Artemis,” the man says, sipping his drink.

  “Being a business man, I must protect my own interests,” Artemis responds, in a defiant tone.

  “Indeed.” The man turns around and approaches us. His face I recognize instantly, it hasn’t aged in sixteen years, except his hair is a lot grayer now. The High Ruler of Tyre, Aldus Vladim, stops directly in front of us, one hand behind his back and the other holding his glass. “So, you have found one of the lost Antaeans. Which one is she?”

  “This is Trea,” Artemis says, as he places his hand on the small of my back, pushing me gently forward.

  “Not that I don’t believe you, Artemis, but I would like to check the young lady myself.” Vladim focuses his attention towards me.

  I shake slightly as I remember when he visited the Dormitories how powerful he seemed

  “Trea, would you mind bending your head down?”

  I obey, lowering my head till my chin rests against my chest. I feel him push aside my hair. The gentle touch of his fingers sends shivers down my spine and ice through my veins.

  “Thank you, dear,” he says, as he lifts my chin up. He reaches out and clasps Artemis’ hand in his. “You have done well, son. As promised to anyone who brings me an Antaean, you can have anything you like.”

  Artemis smiles, and points to me. “I want her.”

  “Absolutely not, out of the question.” Vladim dislodges himself from Artemis’ grip, pushing the man’s hand aside. “She is the property of Tyre and has been since birth. You can have any woman you want, just not this one.”

  “I see.” Artemis steps forward, practically nose to nose with Vladim. “What if I tell you she isn’t the first Antaean located, that she in fact is the second, what would you say then?”

  “I would you say you are bluffing. No other Possessors have indicated they have found one, nor has any Collector come forward for the reward. No, Artemis, I’m sorry but you are lying.”

  “I never said the other one was here in Tyre. There are two other cities out there, all with their own Collectors looking for them.”

  “If Acheron had found one, they would have made it a public spectacle to rub it in our faces. The city of Nuceira would have destroyed it, as they see the Antaean as an abomination to their twisted ways of living. They would have made it a public execution. No, Artemis, you are lying.” Vladim walks over to a small bar against the far left wall and refills his now empty drink.

  “I know how to locate Kedua, but I need Trea to do it.” I can sense Artemis grasping at straws, trying not to lose his prize possession.

  “And how could you possibly know how to find this one?”

  “Simple. I know the person who sold her.”

  “Someone sold Kedua? Did this idiot not know what they had?”

  “Obviously not, but the good thing is, the city of Acheron doesn’t know they have her in their midst. So it’s imperative that I have Trea with me.”

  Vladim seems to be mulling it over, pacing back and forth for some time, his drink splashing onto the floor unnoticed. He finally stops, shaking his head.

  “No, Artemis, Trea is too much of an asset to this city for me to just hand her over to you to go on some wild goose chase for Antaean number two, if indeed she has been located. You will be rewarded handsomely for your find, but that’s all.” Vladim places his hand on Artemis’ shoulder after having set his glass down and escorts him back to the elevator. “Since I currently don’t have a place to house Trea I will need to use your quarters, so I will need you to move your fighters as well as yourself to another floor for the duration of the battles.”

  Artemis looks back towards me as the door to the elevator opens. I want to wave a sarcastic goodbye, but I refrain. He’s forced inside and the doors close on his stunned face. Vladim returns to me, hands clasped behind his back.

  “Do you think he’s telling the truth about Kedua?” I ask Vladim, as he stands silent by my side.

  “Of course not my dear, Artemis’ only concern is for himself and what will profit him. If he thinks telling me he knows where Kedua might be will get him more money, than that is what he will say.”

  “Why would he need me to find her?”

  “Because you will know her the moment you see her.”

  “How do you know I will recognize her?”

  “You’ll know.”

  I doubt I will recognize her since I didn’t recognize Quin, but decide to keep that information to myself.

  Vladim steps over to an end table and begins to scroll through a small tablet screen. A few moments later a door down the hall to the right of me opens up, revealing another private elevator. Vladim walks down the hall greeting the person who just got off.

  “Trea, I would you like you to meet the Superior of the Asphodel Clinic. Dr. Hersher.” Vladim steps aside, but introductions are not required.

  I know the man standing in front of me. He extends his hand out for me to shake. I hesitate, not sure of how to respond, wondering how much this person has told the High Ruler about me…about my past. I shake his hand gently, but I can tell he sees the tension in my face.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Trea,” Dr. Hersher says to me. “That was quite a spectacle you gave today. Munera was one of my favorite fighters, but you bested her easily.”

  “You work for them?” I spit out in disgust, as I point towards Vladim,

  “Of course. Did you think I actually worked just for Artemis?” He laughs loudly, swinging himself back and forth. “Remember, I told you I designed the Antaeans. Who do you think I designed them for?”

  “So that warning at the ranch about not revealing my true self to Artemis was all crap.”

  “Not entirely. If Artemis had discovered your full abilities before I could relay to the High Ruler that an Antaean had been located, it would have destroyed my chances of claiming the…significant reward for your return.”

  I swing wide with my fist, but I’m grappled from behind, taken to the floor mid-punch. I try and throw off my assailants, rolling onto my side, kicking fiercely, but only manage to cock my head to the side, straining my neck to see who is standing on me. The only thing I’m able to ascertain is a Regulator’s hat.
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br />   I’m hauled off of the carpeting with rug burns on my face from the tussle. The Regulators escort me over to one of the couches by the windows, each place a hand on my shoulder, and force me to sit down. Neither removes their hands once I’m properly seated.

  Vladim remains standing while Dr. Hersher takes a seat on the sofa opposite me. Both looking pleased with themselves. I glower at them, imagining my hands snapping each of their necks, their tongues lolling to the sides of their mouths as their eyes go black.

  I mentally shake my head before the images worsen as I’m itching to destroy these two. These thoughts must be coming from my programming, my design, as I don’t normally feel this way.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Well, first of all we will have a demonstration tomorrow.” Vladim walks back over to the window, looking out at the now-empty seats. “Before the next round of battles, you will demonstrate your abilities to the entire country of Sirain. We will show the nation we are the first city to have successfully rescued one of the lost Antaeans, so we can show the public that all the time, money, and research our city put in to developing you wasn’t wasted.” He sits down next to Dr. Hersher, crossing his legs. “Then, we’ll begin looking for the remaining three Antaeans. Dr. Hersher will now escort you below to evaluate you.”

  “He’s already done that,” I protest, trying in vain to stand up.

  Dr. Hersher shakes his head. “Not completely, since I didn’t have all of the necessary equipment at Artemis’ ranch. The Care Room here at the stadium has all the items I need.” He stands up, retrieving his bag from the floor.

  I’m lifted up from my seat and ushered down the hall to the other elevator where we descend to the Care Room, under the holding area.

  We exit into a vast space that runs the entire length of the stadium. Harsh lighting fills the massive area, casting odd shadows in corners too dark to see. Dense gray columns line the interior, creating chambers, each containing soiled cots lined in neat rows. Several cots have injured fighters moaning as women in orange uniforms attend to them. As we move to the left and begin to walk the length of the room, I look beyond the wounded and spot a metal cage holding the group of people I tried to rescue. Terrance is one of them, his face pressing against the iron bars. I turn my head away; trying to hide the tears I feel beginning.