The Race

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The Race Page 3

by Joan De La Haye


  The parts of my tracksuit that were still pink, instead of brown, started to show red, bloody, patches when I hit the ground at Elena’s feet.

  “I can’t do this,” I cried.

  “Then die.” Elena shrugged and took off again.

  Early morning sunlight glinted off her sword as she ran away from me. The bitch was actually leaving me without any clue as to where I was or where I was supposed to go. I was completely lost. Unwelcome tears of frustration and pain trickled down my dirty, scratched, and sunburnt cheeks.

  The sound of feet running on sand and gravel came from above. I didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself. Elena was right. I had to make a choice. Run or die.

  I stood, dusted myself off, literally and figuratively, and half jogged half limped in the same direction Elena had gone.

  5

  Elena’s sword shimmered in the rising sunlight like a beacon in the distance. The valley was mostly in the shadows of the surrounding mountains, but the rising sun was forcing back the darkness. Rays of soft morning light kissed the dusty, pebbled ground, and caressed the few shrubs and trees that littered the vale.

  “Hey,” I shouted at Elena’s back. “Wait for me.”

  Perhaps she didn’t hear me, although there was a slight pause between her strides as she kept running.

  “I said wait for me,” I shouted again.

  She turned her head and eyed me over her shoulder, but didn’t slow down or say anything.

  “You’re killing me,” I mumbled as I tried to speed up my own pace, but given my condition, not to mention my general lack of fitness, there was no way I would be able to catch up to her. In some ways I was glad I didn’t have to carry a heavy sword.

  Feet crunched on gravel behind me. Other women with swords had descended into the basin and were gaining on me. I didn’t see a single other woman in a pink tracksuit. They were all seasoned fighters. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the only one of the uninitiated left. I suddenly wished I had that sword.

  “Fuck this shit,” I said to myself. “I’m going to fucking live,” I told my legs and the rest of my exhausted body. I willed myself to keep going.

  In the centre of the valley stood a pile of stones, painted white—another marker like the one at the tree. It was about two hundred paces ahead, and the horde of women chasing me were about three hundred paces behind, and gaining ground. I wondered briefly why they weren’t killing each other. They seemed hell bent on catching me and then doing god knew what to me. The pink tracksuit seemed to work like a death attracting magnet. I also briefly wondered what Elena hadn’t told me, I had a feeling there was a great deal I didn’t know about this little endeavour.

  Sun-bleached bones littered the path leading to the marker. An old bit of pale pink and frayed cloth flapped in the wind. The piece of material was still wrapped around what looked like the skeletal remains of a leg. There was even what was left of a running shoe discarded next to the bones. How many other women had found their end on the island? How many had been sacrificed for the entertainment of these sick bastards? The thoughts made my starving stomach churn. I wanted to cry, but instead I screamed and ran as though the hounds of hell were chasing me, which I guess they were. Only these bitches had two legs and swords.

  The rising sun glinted off something metallic half buried in the sand ahead, distracting me for a few seconds too long. It was one of those ooh shiny moments. You know those moments that happen just before you walk slap bang into a pole? Yeah, one of those.

  Instead of ignoring the glittering object and continuing my dogged determination to catch up to Elena, I ran towards the sparkly thing. I had no clue what it was, but something at the back of my brain told me I had to check it out. Forgetting the fact that there was a bloodthirsty horde pursuing me, I paused once I reached the spot where I’d seen the sun reflect off the shiny object. I hoped it was a weapon of some sort, just not another sword I could barely lift. But considering it was a pink tracksuit clad woman’s remains littering the ground, I had a feeling I was going to be shit out of luck in the weapon department.

  A skull stared up at me with judgemental, empty eye-sockets, as I bent down to see what had been winking at me. I swept some of the sand, dirt, and pebbles away to unearth my prize. I was just getting excited when I heard a battle cry and the thunder of running feet. Who the fuck screams like that and lets the person know that you’re coming for them? Had she never heard of this thing called a sneak attack?

  Looking through the gap between my legs I caught a glimpse of the fastest of my pursuers. Fuck was she ugly. I only had time to roll and grab the hilt of my buried treasure before the bitch with a face like an angry Rottweiler skewered me. I only had a second to marvel at my own acrobatics when her blade connected with the hand guard of the cutlass.

  The sword was a thing of beauty, even if it was a little rusted from being exposed to the elements for however long it had been left in the wilderness. And the best part was that it was light. I could actually wield it. I might have looked ridiculous trying to imitate a pirate in a fight scene, but for the first time I felt as though I could hold my own. As I thrust and parried, and ducked her blows I allowed myself to feel alive. I couldn’t help but laugh as I dodged another of her strikes. Perhaps successfully defending myself against the wannabe Viking hadn’t been a fluke.

  A punch landed on my chin, sending my head reeling back, and knocked any laughter out of me. I no longer felt quite so cocky.

  “It is appropriate that you die holding Elena’s last little project’s sword,” the angry Rottweiler snarled.

  “What do you mean?” I asked as I tried to stay away from her sword thrust.

  “Elena likes to use one of you weaklings as a distraction. They always die here, and she always wins. She leaves them behind to slow us down. You’re the bait.” The Rottweiler circled around, getting ready to slice and dice me.

  Other warrior types were catching up and would be on me before she finished the job.

  “So why waste time killing me? Why don’t you just go after her?” I asked, keeping an eye on her shoulders and her feet to see where her next strike would come from. It was one of the few tricks I’d learned when I thought I’d take up kickboxing. It didn’t really take though. I don’t like being punched in the face.

  The other women looked tired, but were gaining ground.

  “Because the more of your kind I kill, the more points I get. The more points I win, the happier my patron is. I don’t need to win; I just need to kill you.”

  “Don’t you want the gold?” I asked, trying to distract her.

  “My patron takes good care of me. I’m not greedy.” She smiled a gap tooth smile.

  She lunged.

  I rolled and thrust my cutlass into her exposed abdomen, gutting her.

  “You talk too much, but thanks for the info,” I said as I pulled my sword out of her stomach.

  I only had a moment to think: Holy Shit! I actually did that, before I had to run again and before the next woman was on me and ready to slice and dice my face.

  When I caught up with Elena we would have a lot to talk about.

  6

  As I ran with my prize clutched in a bloody hand, dust devils danced across the plain. Above, a vulture competed for airspace with the helicopter. I wondered if it was one of the birds that’d filled its belly on the Viking.

  Elena was a small figure in the distance ahead of me, but at least I knew where to go. I might have been playing a game of follow the leader without any clue as to the real rules, but as long as I was breathing I was still in the game. It was a game I couldn’t afford to lose, not if I ever wanted to make it home.

  Granted, there wasn’t much waiting for me back home. Nobody would miss me. My landlord would be happy to see me gone. All I had was a string of ex-boyfriends, and a family that I hadn’t seen or spoken to in years. I realised that it was probably those factors that had led me here. Nobody would report me missing and nobody would
come looking for me. I was the prefect target for the bastards behind this little operation. But I was also a survivor. I wouldn’t just lie down and die. I wouldn’t just be fodder for their sick fun and games.

  The helicopter circled like a bird of prey, filming everything I did and waited for me to die. I gave the pilot and those watching a middle finger salute. Once it was over, whether I lived or died, I promised myself that I would give those sickos a far bigger fuck you than just a finger. Rebellious thoughts spurred me on. Anger pumped through my veins as I promised myself that I would show them what a real survivor looked like. I was nobody’s victim.

  The sun travelled across the sky, scorching the ground and my skin once more. I still wasn’t any closer to catching Elena, but at least I was still ahead of the pack. As long as they were behind me, I was still in with a chance and a fight. But the moment they caught up with me, I was screwed.

  Sweat poured down my back, between my shoulder blades and down my chest between my breasts, collecting in my bra like a swimming pool for micro-organisms. The sun was no longer my friend. It had turned into a raging bitch determined to cook me. Unzipping what was left of my hoodie, I stripped down to my dirty tank top. Without missing a step, I tied it around my head like a turban. I was rather impressed with myself for managing to do it on the run. I didn’t want my brain cooked. If I survived another night I would probably need both the tracksuit top and my brain.

  I couldn’t allow myself a backward glance, but I could feel them behind me, breathing down my neck—so to speak. They were catching up. I could hear their feet pounding faster and faster as they gained ground. Ahead another marker loomed. This one was taller than the last. Its white stones a beacon of hope. But as I got closer, the hope was trampled on by more skeletal remains littering the dusty earth around it. I didn’t want to be food for the vultures and whatever other animals called this desolate island their home.

  Swords, bits of armour, and leather were strewn across what I assumed had been a bloody battlefield during the last race. There were no bits of pink cloth that I could see. I doubted that any of the novices had made it this far before. The vulture who’d been stalking me all day perched on top of the marker.

  “Haven’t you eaten enough today?” I shouted up at it.

  The island’s rubbish collector simply spread its massive wings and settled more comfortably onto the pile of rocks in response.

  “Well fuck you! You’re not going to be chomping down on me just yet,” I shouted again as I jogged past.

  As I passed the pillar of stones I heard screams of frustration, quickly followed by screams of pain as my pursuers started to fight one another. I wondered if the rocks were maybe more than just a distance marker. Perhaps they also got points for killing each other by the time they reached that particular marker if there weren’t any novices around to butcher. And whoever was left standing after that battle was still in it with a chance. But a chance for what? Only one person got the gold from what little Elena had told me. So what the hell did you get with enough points? Did you get to live to fight another day? What could these fucked up patrons give them that was worth any of this?

  Considering the amount of these warrior women who got killed, it didn’t seem very economical or smart. From the looks of it, those twenty Xena wannabe’s at the start of it all had been there of their own free will. They also seemed to enjoy it. Who the hell were these women and where did they come from? Had they once been so-called novices like me? Were they murderers in their lives before all of this madness? Were they fresh out of jail with no hope of a future in the real world? They were definitely psychopaths. That much was pretty obvious.

  Questions, upon more questions tumbled around my exhausted mind. The pounding of my feet on the dusty ground blended with my troubled brain into a type of meditation. It was almost like being on autopilot as I put one foot in front of the other. I barely noticed the sun’s travels across the sky. I had no idea what the time was, how long I’d been running, or what distance I’d travelled. The helicopter still followed me, but the vulture had clearly found someone else to feast upon.

  I tried to keep my thoughts away from how tired, thirsty, and hungry I was. I also tried not to think about the fact that I probably wouldn’t live long enough to have any of my questions answered, but it still kept nagging at my brainstem. The realist in me shouted I was doomed. But the optimist quietly reminded me I was still alive.

  It was a conundrum.

  Elena had disappeared from sight. For most of the day she’d been a distant speck on the horizon, but for the last while she’d been nowhere in sight. I started to wonder if maybe I’d gone the wrong way. Or maybe she’d gotten tired of me following her and decided to ambush me. She’d have a long wait for me to catch up. What was she? Some sort of superhuman marathon runner or something? There was no way she was human. Normal people can’t run that fast or for that long. Maybe that’s why she always won these things, that and the fact that she was a cold blooded killer and really good with a blade.

  I was so fucked.

  I was still stuck thinking how screwed I was when I noticed something else rising up in the distance. It wasn’t the usual pillar of rocks. This looked more like a finish line. Two tall, white pillars and a wooden beam over them. Behind the marker stood the Amphitheatre where it all began.

  “Please let it be over,” I mumbled to myself as I stumbled towards it.

  With what I thought was the end in sight, my legs started to give way under me. My body had had enough, but my mind screamed at it. It wasn’t over until I crossed through the gap and made it into the arena. Fuck only knew what was waiting for me inside the theatre.

  My legs buckled as I made it through the archway. I landed with a hard thud on my knees. I crawled the rest of the way, the hot sand burning my palms. As I collapsed in the middle of the theatre pit, I was vaguely aware of a woman screeching and hurling obscenities.

  I guessed my finishing the race really pissed whoever she was off. I had no idea how many other women had finished the race in time or how many were still alive, all I knew for sure was that I had finished. I had managed the impossible. I’d survived. As a comforting oblivion took over I wasn’t concerned with what else would happen.

  I felt hands grabbing me and then I was flying, but I didn’t care. I was done.

  7

  Candle flames flickered in the cool evening breeze. I found myself naked and curled up between clean cotton sheets. My wounds, bruises, and sunburn had been attended to, and the room smelt of lavender, roses, and vanilla scented candles. It took me a few moments to realise I wasn’t alone. A man in army fatigues stood guard at the door. He looked like the guard on the boat who’d laughed at me. There was also someone else hiding in the shadows.

  “Elena,” I whispered as I sat up and pulled the sheet up to cover my bare breasts. “Is that you?”

  A disembodied chuckle emanated from the corner.

  “If Elena were here, you would be dead,” a male voice with a slight German accent said.

  “Why would she kill me?” I asked. “She’s the reason I’m still alive, even if she did leave me behind. The race is over. She won.”

  “Are you so certain that it’s over?” he asked.

  I remained silent and waited for him to continue.

  “It is as you have already been told,” he said when he realised I wasn’t going to say anything. “Elena picks one novice every race, keeps her alive and then leaves her to die at the fourth marker. That is how she gets more points for her patron and provides much entertainment for those of us watching. Unfortunately for her, your tumble down the mountain and the others so close to catching up to the two of you meant she had to change her plans. I do not think she thought you would make it to the finish line,” he said, as he stepped out of the gloom and into the small circle of candle light. “No one did.”

  He smiled.

  “Well... No one except for me,” he said with a grin. “I will have the u
pper hand in many important negotiations to come because of you, and for this I am very grateful. I have wagered even more on you winning the big fight tomorrow. If you win there will be fortune and glory for both of us. And I will enjoy seeing the look on Elena’s patron’s face when you win. It will be a day of days.”

  “Wait! What fight tomorrow? I thought I just had to finish within the two days and I got to live,” I squealed.

  “Elena lied,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Why?” I asked. “Why would she do that?”

  “Elena is never big on the truth or details. It is what makes her so formidable. I also do not think she thought there was much point in telling a walking corpse the truth.”

  “That’s nice,” I said, trying to keep the sarcasm to a minimum. “So... Are you going to tell me the truth and all the details or do I have to wait until tomorrow to find out?”

  “Perhaps I should first introduce myself. I am Graf Heinrich von Zimmer, and from this moment on I am your patron. You killed my Zelda, which I must say was very surprising, she was very talented. I had hoped that she would have a chance to kill Elena.” He sighed. “But she got distracted by you and it cost her life and me much money and many favours.”

  “I’m sorry... I guess,” I said. “Which one was she?”

  “She was the first one that you killed,” he said and almost looked sad.

  “Oh! The Viking chick?”

  “Correct.” He sighed again. “She had so much promise.”

  He shook his head and shrugged.

  “But that is the past and we must focus on the future and for that to happen you will need the facts of your situation.” He smiled.

  “That would make a change,” I said. “Please do tell.”

  “I will tell you what you need to know, no more. There are certain things those in our organisation do not want you or any of the... runners to know.” He paused. “It is one of those I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you moments. You understand?”

 

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