Red Sky: Rising

by Ben Archer

  Which I’m currently doing.

  Again.

  The boy takes advantage of the chaos by gathering his family. He tucks them away before scrambling to search for the long lost dagger. With luck on his side, it only takes seconds to track down and return to the circle.

  The young man towers over the group as if he could protect them with intimidation and a butter knife. Though it’s not the same cocky, teenage driven ego as last time. Genuine confidence is fueling him. I mean, he did just take down two of the biggest guys out there. Those trembling hands are a direct result of excitement this time around. The kid’s good. Hopelessly outmatched, but good.

  The makers of this sick game must sense the sudden change in momentum as well. A stern voice sweeps over the mute crowd, "Enough!" The gruff word belongs to the well-dressed Governor. Sweat’s really pouring down his custom suit now. He must not be used to the home team being down 0-2.

  For some reason, he extends his short T-rex-like arm toward the arena. It doesn’t reach very far, and mainly just emphasizes the large pit stains creeping up his sleeve. Then his little sausage thumb takes a dive towards the floor. I don’t know exactly what it means, but it couldn’t be good.

  Not another word is spoken as the castle’s lights turn the same vile color as the sky. The new red wash draws out hidden hunters from their various hiding spots. Some I’ve seen before; the mysterious ninja in the long black coat, the grotesque clown, the remaining Wild Man… while others I hadn’t. And most of those are even nastier than the ones we were properly introduced to.

  Leading the pack is a short muscular man with a bionic arm that glows between every metal band. He clutches a ruthless looking hatchet that’s been modified to have seven large teeth instead of a blade. Behind him is his polar opposite; a powerful Amazonian lady wrapped in a skimpy black outfit. She’s very sexy in a “I’ll kill you after we’re done” kind of way.

  Until I see her other eye is a dead grey thing without a pupil. She’s so creepy, and mesmerizing, that I have to force myself to look away before my soul is devoured by her forked tongue.

  Stepping from the shadows, and directly from a nightmare, comes a twitchy terror of a man. He’s been scarred from head to toe with gnarled fingers clutching two curled daggers. His trick is that he constantly drags the blades across his wrists and they miraculously heal immediately afterwards.

  This is no longer a hunt.

  It’s an execution.

  The entire stadium is on their feet. None of the TV’s show the different angles of the fight anymore, instead they focus on a single close-up of the family huddling together in the dirt. This shot captures their fear in the most putrid detail.

  In her final moments, mom holds the little girl tight. She does all she can to shield her from what’s coming. The heroic son accepts his fate by kneeling to join the rest on the ground. He clutches his sister’s hand, and cries for the very first time. Dad is the last to look away. He defiantly stares down the wave of killers crashing over them, and just before they land, he lays himself over the entire family. Then, it's over.

  They’re gone.

  Chapter 16: Burn It Down

  The lights fade as the disgraced fighters slink back into the shadows. There will be no applause for them this time. While the blood-thirsty crowd got what they wanted, it wasn’t the gruesome spectacle they craved. The family lost their lives, but they died as lions.

  I get my first look at Quinn when the lights come back on. She’s melted into the chair with every sign of life missing. Shepherd also got what he wanted. She paid the ultimate price for being the unfortunate victim of my good deed. My cowardice prevented me from having to see how my family passed. I never had to know how their voices were silenced. I wasn’t forced to see their pain. Of course that’s been its own special kind of torture. No answers means no closure.

  My legs crumble from the nauseas churning in my stomach. I dribble down the wall, lost in the utter helplessness of the situation. Weakness is not an altogether new or uncommon sensation for me, however this goes far beyond anything I’ve experienced before. It paralyzes my body like a toxic poison seizing ahold of every nerve ending.

  The only thing I’m capable of is digging sharp fingernails into the pads of my hands. They carve out four crescent moons that trickle blood onto the filthy floor. My frustrations release as a series of rapid punches to the shrinking cell walls. The rough bricks gladly keep most of the skin from my knuckles. This only adds to the bloody mess that my hands are quickly becoming.

  "Sorry partner." solemnly floats in from next door. "Me too, Bill." My broken, flat voice reflects the hatred I feel for myself. It’s hard to think, even harder to believe, but she should have died in that cave. At least there she was in a trance. She wouldn’t have felt a thing and her family would still be alive. In our world, everyone dies, your only choice is how big of a mess you leave behind.

  My fidgety body can barely keep still. Every tick of the clock fills me with a brand new form of guilt. The worst part is that it’s completely unearned! How can you hate yourself for saving a life? I’ve done nothing to bring this evil on any of us! That knowledge doesn’t help soothe the fluttering pulse, or cure my nervous feet from craving to run again. After all, it’s what they do. It’s what I do.

  I RUN!

  I NEED TO, BUT CAN’T!!!

  I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!

  WHAT CAN I DO?!?!

  Pacing back and forth across the tiny cell only increases the panic level. I can barely contain all the thoughts running around my overloaded mind, let alone solve a problem with no real solution.

  AGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

  I half shout/half growl while crashing my head against the cell door. Instead of my skull cracking, it’s the metal latch that unexpectedly gives way. "POP!!!" and the exit swings wide open!

  "You’ve got to be kidding!" I scream in astonished disbelief. "This isn't a strong cell??? What kind of dumbass puts a vampire in a regular jail?” My tone is far closer to genuine rage than happiness.

  "They never really hold you guys in here." Brain Guy lives up to his name with a remarkably simple, yet accurate, answer. I have to sit in stunned silence until the shock has a chance to dwindle a bit. Then our new reality punches me square in the teeth. My heart pounds from overflowing adrenaline and endless possibilities. Remember the terrible things I wanted to do to these sick people? All that payback? Well…………. I'M FREE BITCHES!

  “Time to go, Brain Guy!" I peek around the corner before ripping the door to his cage off. Now I have a face to go along with the voice. It’s a very ordinary looking one that perfectly matches the vanilla tone. He has absolutely zero remarkable features to speak of. Dirty blonde hair, a faded t-shirt from a band I’ve never heard of, and a pair of acid wash jeans to tie the entire look together. He's not good looking, or bad looking, just sorta there. The man is so genuinely plain that if he mugged me, I wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a lineup.

  "Ah no thanks bub." he declines my invitation to leave. "I ain't got nowhere to be nohow. They'll round me up again and..."

  "And what?” I interrupt. “Throw you in a cage until it's your turn to be out there? That’s already happening! At least this way you would have a fighting chance! Get out of here and see the rest of the world! Most of it sucks, but I guarantee it's a Hell of a lot better than all this!"

  My plea makes enough sense for him to at least consider it. Somewhere in that vanilla mind he tries to fathom the possibility of life outside these vile walls. They’ve thoroughly trained these people to remain as sheep until the ragged end. He squirms from even contemplating my odd-to-him request. I’m pretty sure he goes through all seven stages of grief in a matter of a few seconds. His face contorts between confusion, anger, fear, doubt, and finally coming back around with renewed vigor.

  "Shoot, son. Maybe you dead-on. You know what? I gone give it a shot! Now how you reckon I do that?"

  "You don't worry about that. Jus
t wait for your cue, then run like the wind."

  "Right, what cue?" I’m already on my way to find the answer before he has a chance to finish the question. A nearby window provides a quick exit, while the fire escape makes reaching ground level painless.

  So far so good.

  I’m transported to a completely different world when my feet touch down on the smooth pavement. Nothing about this charming town is like the ratty, boarded up coliseum inside. Instead of blood smeared walls and dirt, there are flawlessly manicured streets running between flat, modern buildings. Even the bushes have been trimmed into perfectly sculpted hedges on every corner. Fittingly, all the street lights resemble old Victorian gaslights. Their fake flames burn with a deceptively inviting warmth.

  The only similarities between the coliseum and city out here are a shared love of enormous windows and steel beams. Those are nearly identical to the sinister glass castle inside. Except they aren’t covered in every form of liquid formerly found inside of a human body.

  The roaring crowd reminds me of my burning desire to kill everyone in the bloodthirsty crowd. Since that’s not a thing I can (or should) do, I’ll settle for getting Quinn out alive. However, accomplishing that might require a serious plan and that’s something I’m, admittedly, not very good at. I tend to be more… impulsive.

  Fortunately, since the entire town is busy watching the show, I’m left all alone out here. Unfortunately, that ends up being pacing back and forth, waiting for a masterful scheme to come. A perfect plan will not only lead to our great escape, but also result in everyone else falling into an active volcano. When nothing comes to mind, I settle for a good ol’ smash and grab. Is it elegant? No. But it’s literally all I got.

  So, first things first. I find a glossy black SUV parked across the street calling my name. Its windows are even graciously rolled all the way down. That has to be a sign, right? I guess you don't have to worry about theft when your entire town is ruled by mutual asshole-dom. Just in case, I keep both hands in my pockets while casually strolling to the iron giant. I take one more look around before swinging the thick door open. Then I confidently step in like the car actually belongs to me.

  Waiting inside is enough tan leather and woodgrain to make me miss my camp back home. It’s seriously like a forest in here! Definitely a stark departure from the very basic Ol' Red. My tired ass honestly feels as if it will never stop sinking into the overly plush seats. Within moments, I have the engine spitting out the throaty growl of a well-tuned V8. It revs as fast as my foot falls on the pedal. A reflexive smile comes from its husky roar. It’s a shame this thing will only be mine for a few minutes. I’m really starting to enjoy this!

  The transmission clicks into low 4x4 while I attempt to get back to a more grounded reality. I mentally unfold the plan leading all the way up to the part where I break through the massive gates, then realize that’s about as far as I can go. Who knows what’s going to happen after that!?!? What good is a detailed plan when all you want is chaos? That thought makes me feel strangely better, so before my nerves unravel again, I pop my knuckles and self-assuredly grab the heavy steering wheel. Staring down the long hood helps keep my mind clear enough there will be no more thinking.

  Just doing.

  Chapter 17: Push It

  The slightest touch of the gas pedal launches the vehicular behemoth away from the curb. Since I’m a guy who can appreciate a fine automobile, I honestly feel bad for what’s going to happen to her next. That being said; I still approach the massive gates with as much caution as a hyperactive child preparing to dive into a triple chocolate birthday cake.

  I build up as much speed as possible before slinging the big black truck into the center of the wooden doors. They spring open and splinter into a million toothpick-sized pieces. The sound is like a bomb detonating over the shocked crowd. Watching the roaches scatter fills me with a devilish delight. I would love to hunt them down one by one for what they’ve done. And while that would bring me immense short-term joy, it would also come at a terrible long-term cost. My only goal must remain laser focused on getting Quinn out of here.

  Spinning the broad truck around in tight circles sprays the stands with even more debris. While I’m at it, I keep an eye out for some of the hunters. It would be a nice bonus if a few of them happened to slip underneath my tires along the way. Sadly, they seem to have scattered along with the rest of the terrified crowd.

  After enjoying a few more turns, I point the steering wheel in the direction of the nearest tower, unbuckle the seatbelt, and get ready to move on. As soon as the belt snaps back, the interior suddenly explodes as if I’m driving into the sun itself! The burst leaves me completely blind to everything past the dashboard. Since I had never planned to finish this trip, the cruise control is set and steering wheel directed dead ahead.

  Now there’s only two things left to do:

  1) Don’t touch the steering wheel during my jump.

  2) Make it out past the tires. (This is most important)

  I have to pry the door open against the strong wind. It seems to really enjoy fighting me every step of the stressful way. I have no clue how much time is actually left before this big brute finds an explosive new home. It’s impossible to tell where I am with that big spotlight cutting off my view to the rest of the world. Although, I have a strong gut feeling this train is about to reach its inevitable station.

  I reluctantly pull myself from those plush seats, then leap from the moving battering ram before finding out too late. The slamming door catches a toe, and while it doesn’t hurt, it sends me into a spinning tumble instead of a very much preferred slide. This, plus the truck’s speed, means I skip across the ground for an unbelievably long amount of time. The sound my body makes bouncing off the arena floor is like banging a drum with a wad of crinkled paper. There are loud thuds, followed by quick crunching noises, then…

  BOOOMMMMMMMM

  …rocks the stadium.

  A tremendous explosion rips through as the four wheeled missile finds its target. The massive impact feels as if the entire planet has been rattled to the core. It unleashes a beautifully destructive ball of fire that blooms up from the ground, soaring toward an already burning sky. Waves of intense heat scorch my shoulders with every new roll in the dirt. By the time my skid comes to a full stop, half the arena is on fire. The blaze spreads across the old wooden coliseum like a raging inferno. Then the fun really begins!

  The burning tower begins to sway under the weight of the massive spotlight up top. One leg went missing in the crash, while flames are already nibbling away at the others. They groan from shifting back and forth.

  I never gave a single thought to all the directions the tower could possibly fall in (including on top of me), but today it chose to sail straight into the heart of the glass castle as if guided by a cosmic hand. All the debris is, at first, sucked down into the vacuum as it slices through. Even the steel beams bend like flexible plastic straws.

  But then it lands…

  The enormous shockwave blasts every piece of glass, metal, dirt, dust, and splinter so high that they become flaming rain on the way back down. The drizzling glass and crackling fire mix together into one big symphony of beautiful chaos. Let’s be honest, I had hoped to cause some destruction, but this is WAY beyond even my wildest expectations!

  There’s no time to revel in all the anarchy. My ultimate goal is still waiting for me out there under those soaring lights. I quickly carve out a narrow path that should be clear enough to hurl myself across the entire stadium. Now hear me out, launching myself blindly into the air might seem reckless, except I really feel the universe has my back this time. We’ve taken our hits and this will be our comeback round.

  That swell of overconfidence leads to a jump that carries me much farther than it should’ve. All my anxious momentum has shot me well past the center box; all the way into the arena wall. Two more feet and I would’ve landed back out in the city!

  Thankfully I didn�
��t. I’m able to safely remove myself from the Hayden-sized hole and immediately get busy yanking out the spotlights. The severing wires create a shower of sparks that tattoo a macho grin on my face. The inflating confidence has me holding them high over my head like a trophy, instead of the weapon they will become. Well, not a weapon, more like a bomb… that doesn’t blow up, just knocks holes in things.

  Anyway, Quinn is up front by the windows, so the over-sized hunks of metal are launched through the back of the roof. The force instantly dissolves half the ceiling and leaves a fantastic new hole to watch the carnage unfold inside. Through it I can see dense smoke, flashing lights, torrential water sprinklers, and a whole herd of people scattering around. With everyone distracted, I’m free to head over to the front to grab the ledge above the window. Lowering myself down is simple enough, although finding her through the mass confusion is a different story. There’s nothing more than blobs of moving shadows and strobe lights in there!

  I decide to quit wasting time trying to look through the lava lamp and just get inside. My heels tap twice before being shoved all the way through the oversized window. Everything was going great until the glass unexpectedly crumbles faster than a popped balloon! I careen wildly through the giant hole, and although the speed throws me off a bit, I still manage to land going in the right direction.

  It helps that most of the smoke has poured out of the freshly missing window. Now it’s much easier to find Quinn right where they left her. She’s still slumped over in that torturous chair behind a curtain of wet hair that hides most of her face. I hardly recognize her when she looks up. Her eyes are so swollen they’re practically shut. It’s obvious that she’s simply shut down.