Baxter pulled the short sword from Dogboy’s face, the vibrating blade dripping. He cut through Dogboy’s right arm under the elbow and it came away just like when he had cut off his own arm. Though the kill switch had been activated the metal sleeve’s screen still worked. Tucking his right arm against his side, Baxter laid Dogboy’s severed forearm on the ground and poured over the sleeve’s map hungrily. He saw the last known positions of the remaining teams on the map and that godlike feeling of power swelled inside him again. He could see them but they couldn’t see him.
Several food drop markers dotted the map, like the one Ursula and Dogboy had been headed towards. Baxter looked up at the drones circling overhead. The map updated but it wasn’t a timed update so Baxter knew it was only for him. A red cross, marking a medical drop, appeared on the map nearby. Baxter looked down at his bloody stump of an arm again and smiled.
Chapter Nine.
Wrapped in a towel, a handsome man crosses a huge and fabulous apartment. Grey shutters cover one entire wall. With a wave of the hand, the man causes the shutters to part open and reveal the curve of the earth far below. Lights glitter across the dark continent beneath the window, overlooking the planet from above the clouds and atmosphere as dawn breaks on the other side of the world.
“Apartments and commercial spaces are now selling in the decommissioned ‘Icarus’ space elevator.”
A massive, metal ribbon stretches from where it is anchored by the earth into the sky and the stratosphere above. An enormous counterweight dangles at the end of the structure in orbit. Giant elevators run up and down the length of the impossibly tall and thin tower, several city blocks wide but over one hundred thousand kilometres tall.
“Starting at thirty thousand metres above sea level, the Icarus’ one and two-bedroom apartments are perfect for young professionals, only a short commute to the surface to the planet. For a more bohemian crowd, the industrial mid-levels of the Icarus have been converted into warehouse-style lofts, art galleries, cafés and nightclubs.”
“Levels eight hundred to one thousand four hundred are perfect for raising a family, close to schools and hospitals. Your children could live their entire lives without ever setting foot on Earth’s surface.”
An animated representation of the Icarus space elevator stretches from outside the atmosphere to the ground. Cartoon planes and missiles bounce harmlessly off the sides of the tower. Tiny trucks, loaded with boxes of TNT, are blasted to smithereens by sentry guns before they can reach the armored base at the bottom.
“Thanks to new reinforcements along the entire length of the Icarus and mandatory anti-terror barricades at the base, another repeat of the Clarke Space Elevator 01 incident of the last decade is virtually impossible. And our state-of-the-art air filtration system means that apartments and other areas above the stratosphere almost never decompress.”
“Live your best life, live life on top of the world in the Icarus.”
After escaping from the library’s basement, Thao and Layla moved down the tunnel until they came to a solid metal plate. They had passed under the library and the park next door to it. Drago and Hutchins hadn’t been able to follow. Thao illuminated the metal plate blocking the tunnel with the light from the screen on his forearm and Layla pressed her mechanical hand for it as if testing it.
“We must be at the wall.” Layla said, “Come on, go back to the last ladder we passed.”
“Are you sure we couldn’t get through here?” Thao said.
“Maybe, I could probably get through this if given enough time.” Layla said, “But even if I punched through it and we get outside the walls by going underground we’ve still got the kill switches on our wrists. They can track us and remotely trigger them for escaping, and we can’t remove them without getting shocked or killed.”
There was a ladder and pipe they had already walked by that led to a manhole overhead. After doubling back down the tunnel, Layla climbed the ladder and punched. The manhole cover was blown out of the hole, flipping through the air like a coin, and bounced across the road before rolling away. Layla climbed out of the hole and brought her Heckler & Koch G36C to bear. The manhole emerged on a road passing through the parkland they had seen by the library. Stretching overhead was the enormous grey wall that curved around the arena. There were no other contestants surrounding them, only dead trees and snarls of dried up bushes rooted in blackened soil. The trunks and branches of the trees were black as well, surrounded by drifts of dead leaves and grass. Cracked, half-buried pathways traced between the dead and poisoned plants.
Thao climbed out of the manhole behind Layla and breathed deeply after the trip through the tunnel. Emerging from the hole, Thao stumbled and landed on one knee. He found himself staring across the sidewalk at an empty park bench. The moment was so familiar Thao felt his chest pinch and flash of memory returned.
Unlike their dead and grey surroundings, Thao’s memory was full of colour. He saw the face of the woman he’d recognised in the Slayerz introduction that claimed she was one of his victims. She was smiling and sitting on a bench like the one he was looking at. Thao was down on one knee in the memory as well and for a moment he wondered why. There was something in his hand.
“Hey! Where’s your head at, space case?” Layla said.
“I-, I saw her, I remembered something.” Thao said, climbing to his feet, “You remember how I said I recognised only one of the women they showed us, that they claimed I killed? I saw her-, and I wasn’t hurting her, I was-, I think I was proposing to her.”
“Yeah? You sure she said yes?” Layla said.
“I’m serious, it was a memory, I think.” Thao said, “Maybe it’s coming back to me.”
“Well, maybe you’re just crazy as shit, or maybe it is real and something else is going on.” Layla said, “I don’t know but it doesn’t help us survive right here and now. Have you still got that food supply drop on your map?”
“Uh, yeah, it’s over that way.” Thao said.
Thao tapped the screen and pointed. As he did so, he couldn’t help checking his left ring finger for the indentation of a wedding band.
“If we’re lucky, Drago and Hutchins should be trapped inside the library for a little while longer. Until they blow out a window frame or something.” Layla said.
The grey sunlight was almost directly overhead. A couple of new camera drones dropped out of the sky, zeroing in on Thao and Layla as they crossed the park. The food drop had come down in a large canvas bag. Its parachute was tangled in the branches of a nearby tree, ropes trailing to the bag on the ground. Layla ripped it open and started to pull the food out. Along with MRE packs, a couple of self-heating coffee cups and some water there were several large containers filled with a thick, grey liquid. Layla immediately pulled one open and started to drink the disgusting contents thirstily.
“What is that?” Thao said.
Layla lifted her mechanical arm as if showing it off again, “It’s for this, it’s kind of like-, a protein shake for cyborgs.” She said, “The arm has its own internal battery or else it just becomes a big paperweight. But because of all that internal shit I told you about it drains a lot of energy off my system as well. People with heavy-duty cybernetics like me are supposed to drink a couple of these babies a day to maintain the proper muscle mass and energy requirements or my body starts eating itself.”
“Oh, I didn’t realise it was as bad as that.” Thao said.
“It’s not that dramatic, not so different from being a regular bodybuilder.” Layla said, “This is just the best formula for it. You want to try some? It’ll put hair on your ass.”
“No, thanks.” Thao said.
Layla drained the rest of the grey drink while Thao looked around at the skeletal graveyard of trees. Nothing appeared familiar to Thao. He couldn’t get the memory of the woman and the proposal out of his head, and he clung to it with the fear it would fade away again. He was certain that it was real, not some kind of delusion like Layla ha
d suggested.
“Come on, let’s gather up the rest of this stuff and keep moving, we’ll take it somewhere safe before we eat anything.” Layla said.
The maps updated as they hurried across the park. The icon for their food supply drop was gone but a couple of others had appeared, scattered across the map. Thao scrolled around on his bracelet screen.
“Looks like Drago and Hutchins are still in the library.” Thao said, “The closest other team is Yoyo Yokatomi and Mark Rizzio, most of the rest are still on the other side of the lake. I don’t see-, I don’t see that Ursula woman and-,”
“From wolf of Wall Street to whimpering underdog, Baxter Webley is really showing us what he’s made of now, Rick!” Thao’s bracelet blared.
Thao was interrupted as a highlight reel started to play. The map disappeared, showing some camera drone footage instead. The footage showed Baxter’s short and desperate battle with Ursula Paxton and Dogboy, bringing them down in spite of his own heavy blood loss and then hacking off Dogboy’s arm to take his bracelet.
“Cinderella story, out of nowhere, Fred.” The second commentator said, “Meanwhile it looks like Southpaw Jackson and Thao Seong, after a strong start, spent too long with their noses buried in books and got caught out by the pairing of Drago and Wolf Hutchins!”
“That’s right, Rick! It was a great fight after that earlier run-in with the bots but neither team could check out with the others’ heads!” The first man said.
“Better luck next time, teams, meanwhile, let’s look at who is left in the game.” The second commentator said.
Baxter Webley / Reaper
Billy Blight / Wing Chun
Church Harper / Jeannie St Sunshine
Donna Pardee / Raptor Rawlins
Drago Vorobyov / Wolf Hutchins
Drake Mooney / Billy-Bob Boomer
Francois Connard / Neena Twist
Jacob Schmidt / Pedro de la Mar
Layla Jackson / Thao Seong
Q. Chrissie / Maurice Lester
Santa Muerte / Priest
T-Bone West / Runner
Titama / Anaconda
Ursula Paxton / Dogboy
Yoyo Yokatomi / Mark Rizzio
Thao and Layla made their way out of the park to the courtyard of a low office building. A massive fountain towered in the middle of the courtyard, its sides and pool dry. Layla pointed out some small bulges in the pavers surrounding the fountain.
“Look out for those small mounds, they’ll be boobytrapped for sure.” Layla said.
The two of them peeled open the MREs and ate quickly. Their camera drones whirred in circles overhead. Layla prodded at her sleeve but the screen still didn’t work well with her mechanical fingers.
“There’s another drop, a weapon drop or some kind of minigame, nearby.” Layla said, “I think we should go for it this time. I’m low on ammo and you-, you only have your little sparky stick. I’m pretty sure things are going to get worse before they get better, the game is moving fast but my money is on the producers having some more surprises in store.”
xXx
In what was no doubt supposed to be a cruel piece of irony, not only had the contestant Neena Twist been paired with the same man behind the killing of her family but she’d also been armed with the same weapons he’d used to do it. Bricks of high explosive along with detonators and remote triggers. Her partner, French-Canadian terrorist Francois Connard, had been pleased however. He’d been given a short-barrelled assault rifle but neither of them had the one-on-one killing experience of most of the other contestants. Connard was much more comfortable setting traps and killing from a distance. The map showed a food drop about a block from the pair. Neena and Connard stopped halfway between it and the last known positions of Church Harper and Jeannie St Sunshine.
Connard buried a brick of the high explosive in a small pile of rubble against one sidewalk. The buildings around them were shaken and looked like crumbling honeycombs. Neena stood back, staring at the back of Connard’s head as he went about his work. Her eyes darted to the chunks of masonry littering the gutter nearby. It would be so easy to pick one up, feel the weight of it in her fist, and drive it into the back of Connard’s skull. If she killed him it would be the end of her as well, but she wasn’t sure she cared.
“They come down this way, we hit the switch and blow them both to smoke.” Connard said, “The rocks and everything will work as shrapnel as well as camouflage and make the blast that much worse.”
“Is that how you designed the bomb that killed my family?” Neena said.
“Would you stop whining about your family already?” Connard said, “In war there are casualties, your country went to war with mine and we fought back however we could.”
“Canada attacked us first!” Neena said.
“Why would we? We had nothing to gain by blowing up your Washington Monument, killing schoolchildren! It was your-, how you say, false flag, so your government had an excuse to cross our borders and take our resources!” Connard said, “The American sheep were too stupid to see what was happening in front of their faces.”
“What do you mean you wouldn’t kill children? You killed my children!” Neena said, “My Seamus and my Letty!”
“And how many innocents did you kill when you tracked down my colleagues and triggered the blast that killed them?” Connard asked, “How many grieving parents and partners tuning in to see you get yours? It’s okay, all is fair in love and war, c’est la vie.”
Neena was still holding the detonator for the bomb which Connard had armed and hidden. She raised it slowly, finger hovering over the trigger. Both of them were well inside the blast zone. The explosion would have shredded the two in an instant, leaving no chance of survival. Still, Connard seemed unworried as he straightened slowly with a smile breaking out across his boyishly handsome face. He stood over Neena and reached for her hand. Carefully but surely, Connard removed the device from her grip and deactivated it before placing it in a pouch on his belt.
“Survival instinct is one heck of a thing.” Connard said, “If you really wanted to kill yourself you could have taken a great big lungful of water when we were first dumped into the lake. Or given up instead of swimming for it when we saw that shark fin. No, you fought to live and that’s what we are doing now. Let’s get off the street before Church Harper spots us, and then we wait.”
The two of them retreated to a nearby apartment building. Trash and leftover furniture, abandoned halfway through moving or looting, filled the hallways. The power was out so Neena and Connard hurried up several levels of stairs. Connard kicked open a door and the two of them moved to a window at the front of the apartment, overlooking the street. The part of the street they had left behind was empty but they could easily see the small pile where Connard had hidden the explosive. Drawing the remote out of its pouch again, Connard propped his hand across the windowsill. His short assault rifle was still strapped across his shoulder.
Their sleeves updated and the highlight reel played out including Baxter Webley, Layla Jackson and Thao, and the others. Connard ignored it, muffling the sound, and then tapped on the map. For a moment he was confused. Two new dots seemed to be almost overlapping with Neena and himself. It was Church Harper and Jeannie St Sunshine, and after a few moments Connard realised the screen was trying to show him the other team was in the same building as them.
“Merde.” Connard reached for his rifle.
“Don’t do it.” A calm, clear voice said.
Church Harper entered the apartment, stepping over a balled pile of garbage. He held his automatic SPAS shotgun on Connard and Neena Twist. Connard glared but didn’t move, frozen in an awkward pose with his hand halfway to his gun.
“Two fingers, remove it by the strap and toss it across the room.” Church said.
Connard did as he was told and threw his assault rifle across the trash-strewn apartment. Church kept the shotgun trained on him but scanned the room for any signs of explosives. As
he did, Connard glanced back at the open window. It was a three story drop outside though, and he would have to take Neena with him. There was no escape in that direction.
“Why don’t you just shoot us?” Connard said.
“Still making up my mind.” Church said, “Drop those bricks of explosive as well, and the detonators, all of it, toss them alongside the gun.”
Both Connard and Neena obeyed. When he was satisfied, Church cleared his throat and his partner, Jeannie, stepped into the apartment as well. Her shoulders shook as she carried the heavy pulse cannon Church had taken from Billy-Bob Boomer wrapped around her right arm.
“I think you see too much of yourself in this one.” Connard nodded at Neena, “Big, bad vigilante has a soft spot for a woman who killed a bunch of assholes like me trying to avenge her family.”
“Shut up, Francois!” Neena said.
“Unfortunately for you, I thought ahead.” Connard said.
Connard slowly unbuttoned his shirt. With his other hand, the Canadian terrorist reached into one of his pouches for a final detonator. Opening his shirt, he revealed one of Neena’s blocks of plastic explosive was flattened across his body armour. It was a makeshift suicide vest, studded with pieces of metal trash for shrapnel and with a glowing detonator placed off to one side. Holding the remote aloft, Connard wrapped his finger around the trigger.
“Looks like we’ve got a Mexican standoff.” Connard said, “You shoot me and I’ll have time to blow us all up, never mind the drugs in those kill switches.”
“Standoff it is.” Church said.
“W-what are we going to do?” Jeannie said.
“Let’s call this-, how do you say? A wash, we’ll all go our separate ways.” Connard raised his remote, “Or-,”
Before he could finish his sentence, a massive lance of light and heat blazed across the room and carved through Connard’s chest. It disintegrated his body armour and most of the suicide vest. Punching through his back and through the wall behind him, the blast left a roughly circular hole in both the man and the wall. Connard gagged, with blood splattering from the enormous crater in his chest. He started to fold over on himself.
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