by Mark Tufo
The captain shuddered. If the most powerful weaponry known to mankind didn’t faze a mere probe, what could they possibly do against the mothership? They were up against a master race of aliens and had no idea what they were here for. Were they to become their slaves or worse, food? No scenario the captain came up with sat well with the dinner he had eaten earlier.
CHAPTER 19 – Journal Entry 15
A light sheen of sweat covered my body. I felt confident I had made peace with myself, but was I ready for a person seeded number 310? More to the point, was I ready to die? He would have to be fairly big and intelligent, that new thought broke a brand new sweat across my brow and a failing sense of confidence in my heart. When I saw my opponent step forth from his side of the stadium, my worst fears were realized. Dan was huge; he was almost the same size as Durgan. At one time Dan Sterns was probably considered a good-looking man, but those days were over. This man was now a walking wound. Whoever had faced this man previously had almost completed the job; a foot long gash across his shoulder glistened with pus. And by looking at the sweat on his forehead I could tell he was burning with fever. He was hours away from dying from infection, but that was too far away to do me any good. It did, however, give me a chance, and a chance was all I needed. He also had a disfiguring facial wound that went from ear to ear making him look like a horribly mutilated clown out of a Stephen King book. It was hard not think of him as simply smiling widely—very widely. But the misery in his eyes made it clear that was no natural smile. There was a dark stain over the left knee, a wound that was the source of this man’s limp. All I needed to know. The field was one of small rocks and stony clumps, clearly designed for the very mobile and sure of foot. One thing I was certain of was my competitor was no longer either of those things.
The crowd cheered at our entrances and our fates were sealed. Well, as I had learned from my baseball coach, to be truly competitive one must think like his competition. His motives, his desires, and even his fears. This wasn’t baseball but the advice fit. Although I was only a pawn in a much larger game, I had no intention of sacrificing myself for the common good. So I thought like a wounded animal. Hurt, cornered, defensive. That’s it, I shouted in my head, he’ll definitely be on the defensive and what better weapon to use on the defensive but a bow and arrow. Although I wasn’t physically intimidating he was in no shape to battle anyone hand-to-hand. He had not received those wounds from long range and he would be severely gun shy of another frontal assault. The odds were on my side this man was right-handed, in fact my life depended upon this assumption.
Yes, I thought, I know all about assuming things. I was now going to feel my prey out. But first, I got the necessities out of the way: I threw up, nausea striking my stomach more effectively than a fist. Was I starting to like this? No, I answered myself. It was a question of survival. Pull it together, Durgan would have already buried the hatchet by now. Get it together! With that sobering thought in mind, I started out, a taut grin stretching over my face. Halfway across the arena I went to the right side wall and grabbed my weapon of choice for the evening, a mace. It weighed more than it looked. I was going to have to be careful I made contact on the first swing as it would be difficult to bring it back around with any true speed or precision. Even halfway across the arena floor I had yet to feel true fear regarding Sterns. I was certain he had holed up in a somewhat secure and sheltered area and was going to wait until I was in full view before unleashing his hopefully non-lethal volley of arrows. I traversed another twenty-five yards through some short scrub grass and stones. It was now time to begin employing tactics. I had to be closing in on his firing zone, unless I had made a horrible mistake and he had circled behind and was now ready to cut my throat. I spun around, expecting him to be bearing down on me, and there he wasn’t.
My nerves were primed, I was on edge. I had to stick to my game plan; it was time to play cat and mouse. The first thing I had to do was find out where the very large and dangerous mouse was hiding. This cat was going to be very cautious. ‘Curiosity killed the cat’ crossed my mind more than once. I looked across the surface of the remaining twenty-five yards or so and could see nothing except rocky crags and grassy outcrops. This place reminded me of a miniature Maryland with its rolling hills and green grass. There were dozens of places he could be holing up. My first break came and the smile I was wearing got even bigger. The place where the bow and arrow had hung in my last round was bare. I was right and Hank Sterns, whether he knew it or not, was as good as dead. The best he could hope for at this distance was one shot and one shot only, or so I hoped. I got down into a kneeling position and picked up a grenade-sized stone and hurled it side arm ten or fifteen yards back into the middle of the arena. Sure enough, his dark curly-topped head jerked up and he peered about looking for me. His eyes no longer appeared to have agony in them; when he realized he had exposed himself for a mere rock, his eyes took on the look of a trapped animal and terror reigned supreme. My stomach convulsed again. Being raised as a Catholic, I should have been helping a man that looked that desperate, but instead I was planning ways for his untimely demise. God forgive me. Thankfully, I had nothing left in my stomach to bring up. After a few seconds, the feeling passed. It was him or me and I didn’t know him. I grabbed another rock and hurtled it almost directly in front of his hidey-hole. In a panic, he stood up and fired blindly, luckily blindly because it still came dangerously close to the left side of my head. I swear to this day I heard that arrow whistle by over the roar-hiss of the crowd. I jumped up from my crouching position and halved the twenty-five yards in NFL record style. It was then the world slowed down to a snail’s pace. No! I screamed to myself. This can’t be the time to have one of those crippling dreams. I took a step, he brought an arrow out of his sheath. I took another step, bringing the mace up, he began to notch the arrow. I took another step and brought the mace back beyond my shoulder, he fully notched the arrow and pulled back on the bow.
Damn, I thought, how the hell did he load that thing that fast? Was I running that slow? I took another step and brought the full splintering force of the mace down on the top of his head. The mace shuddered in my hand as the steel made contact; his skull snapped like a dry branch underfoot and brain matter flew everywhere. So this is what it feels like to be Gallagher, I thought nonsensically. Sterns crumpled like a Coke can under a car; his knees seemed to have blown out at the sides as his head and neck skewed at right angles to each other. The mace had buried itself a good five inches into his skull so the ball was resting directly above his now empty eye sockets. My first impression was that sweat had stung my eyes and filled my mouth but upon closer examination the metallic taste in my mouth would not go away. I spat, I heaved, and then I collapsed. The bastard had gotten the shot off and it had struck true. The question now was how good of a shot had it been? The pain in my side was searing. Damn, I thought, I’m going to die by the hands of a dead man. I guessed that was what poetic justice was all about. Blood flowed from my wound, a deep crimson red; even I knew this was no superficial wound. In those old John Wayne movies, I always thought when the cowboy got shot with an arrow and they showed him holding onto it, they just did that for dramatic effect. But that wasn’t the case. My mind just couldn’t grasp the concept I had this foreign object inside of me. The first inclination I had was to just wrench it out, but the slightest movement of the shaft sent agony blistering through every nerve ending so I basically just put my hands around it to keep it from moving around. I stayed there for a few minutes not really having any thoughts other than if I would be admitted into Heaven after today’s festivities. I thought not, but how bad could Hell be after this little jaunt in the park? Then I died.
CHAPTER 20
“How go the games, Krulak?”
“They go well, my Supreme Commander, the hu-mans are even more cruel and savage than we had originally thought. But for a few rare cases they have no regard for other hu-man lives.”
“It is amazing that t
his species has survived to this juncture in their evolution. Apparently, we will only be speeding up their demise by a decade or two.”
“I agree, Commander, and the entertainment is just what the populace needed after the last buckle we completed.”
“Yes, that was a particularly difficult space traversal. Are the Genogerians behaving?”
“Yes, oh Great One, but all the killing has made them a little more unstable than usual. A couple of fights have broken out amongst the crew but only two deaths and five serious injuries.”
“Maybe, my dear Krulak, we should have done on our planet what these Earthlings did on theirs.”
“Sir, by wiping out Cro-Magnons, these hu-mans have ridden themselves of a valuable asset. Now they have to do their own dirty work.”
“You are right, my dear Krulak. If we had destroyed the Genogerians, we would have succumbed long ago to the Fregtew. I still have a hard time believing we have any commonality to the beasts, though.”
“Sir, we have as much in common with them as a piece of steel does to a sword. We are of similar material but we have been worked and honed to be a thing of beauty and power.”
“I agree. As always, Krulak, your faith has never wavered, old friend. Please let me know when Round Two has been completed. You may go.”
“By your leave, sir.”
CHAPTER 21 – Journal Entry 16
I thought I had died. Apparently, I had just passed out. I had some sort of strange wrappings around my wounds. I was pretty sure Heaven wouldn’t need any type of gauze to keep me from bleeding out. Unless God had a strange sense of humor, which by the way he probably did. But for good or bad, I was alive to fight another day. How hollow had those words sounded a lifetime ago, now they rang as true as the Liberty Bell. I stood up from my bed and flexed my bad side. I felt remarkably well. The aliens must have had some super-Neosporin, either that or I’d been out for a long, long time I crossed the room to turn on the ‘Kill-O-Vision’ as I had affectionately begun to call it. No battles were being waged at this time so all that appeared was a static list of the remaining contestants and their respective rankings. At first I thought it was a misprint. I had beaten Sterns, ranked at 310, and my rating by comparison had dropped. I was listed at number 812. That meant either the competition was that difficult or Sterns’ injuries had severely hampered my chance at a better rating and an easier challenger next round. I stared at the screen in horror and dismay. I had hoped I would have a relatively easy opponent next round, but the aliens had seen it differently. I had faced a man who had been close to death and I had almost joined him. How was I going to beat this next person? I was shaken out of my stupor when a countdown clock appeared to announce Round Three was about to get under way.
I had five hours to prep myself for another battle, how long was I out for? Well, I had five hours to fully recuperate, and depression had settled in deeply. I was thinking it was time for a nap. Backing up toward my bed, I put an arm out to guide myself down and touched something warm. At first I thought I was still dreaming, so I moved my hand back and forth a little without turning around. I was afraid to see what was there; I slowly turned, half-expecting to be face-to-face with Mace Head. The thought of him coming at me, brain matter still oozing out of his gaping maw, almost made me double over in fear. It was then that a high shriek brought me back to reality. The woman in my bed, upon opening her eyes and seeing me, recoiled in terror. She pulled the blankets around her and got into one of the tightest fetal positions I had ever witnessed. After the initial shock and surprise of finding another warm-blooded creature sharing my abode, I wondered what caused that reaction. I may not have been Tom Cruise but I wasn’t the Hunchback of Notre Dame either, what gives? The whole situation might already have been somewhat humorous if I hadn’t been as startled as her and fallen backwards, lightly brushing my head against the table, but more ridiculous than that was the sound of my pride making a solid thunking sound as my backside hit the floor. I could do nothing more than laugh. Her eyes shifted from terror to bewilderment. As my laughing increased her eyes became even softer. I thought for a moment through my tears of mirth I witnessed the beginning of a smile. Still trying to wipe the tears from my eyes and holding my stomach from splitting, I continued to laugh and to my amazement my new roommate joined in. After a few more moments the merriment of the situation came to a drawn out finale. The wariness began to creep back into her eyes. So I spoke to try to calm whatever her fears were.
“Please,” I whispered, “don’t be scared. I don’t know who you are or why you’re here but I’ve done nothing to you so far and I don’t plan on starting now.”
She looked me over carefully and must have decided I was telling the truth, as she loosened her death grip on the blanket and actually stretched out her legs a little bit to relax the fetal position.
“Who are you?” I queried. “And what exactly are you doing here?”
“You mean you really don’t know?” she uttered skeptically.
“I don’t know much of anything right now other than the fact I’m being held captive in an alien ship and so far I’ve killed two other human beings and more than likely my time left alive on this ship is measured in hours as opposed to days, plus that was the first good laugh I’ve had in what seems like decades.” She winced when I mentioned the part about my death, but I didn’t know her from Eve, so I don’t think my passing would greatly affect her.
“I’m a gift.” She seemed to have almost gagged upon that last word.
A gift? I thought, all I could think of was birthday presents.
“You’re a gift, as in spoils of war?”
“That’s it.”
“But that’s crazy!” I said.
“This whole thing is a little crazy, wouldn’t you agree?”
We both almost started the whole laughing bit again, but the pain in my side abbreviated that.
She continued. “We, meaning the remaining women, are made to watch all the matches as they are waged. We are awarded to the winner and he does with us as he sees fit.”
“You mean you have to clean this place if I tell you to?” I said jokingly. But then it struck me, if this girl was somebody’s girlfriend, that meant Beth could possibly be with another man right now. My heart almost derailed, it hammered inside my chest as if it were trying to get out. She must have seen the concern in my eyes.
“What’s the matter?” she asked with true empathy.
“Someone I care about is out there.” I swept my arm across the expanse of the ship.
“I’m so sorry, I know how it feels.”
“How could you possibly know how it feels?” I shot back angrily.
“I also went to the concert with a loved one and then I got to watch him die a horrible death in the first round. At least your girlfriend may still be alive.”
“I am so sorry, I’m such an idiot. I’ve been alone in this room, it’s like I don’t even know how to act around people anymore. I am truly sorry for your loss. It wasn’t me, was it?”
“What? No, it wasn’t you, but it doesn’t matter now anyway.”
“Sure it does. How could I possibly face you if I had killed your boyfriend?”
“Fiancé.”
I shut up, she truly did have me bested. My girlfriend was at least on the ship, but her fiancé had departed for a better place, or at least I had to believe that, because he was dead.
After a few moments of a drawn out and awkward silence, she extended the hand of friendship.
“What’s her name, or better yet what does she look like? I might know her. They let us stay together in one huge communal room.”
I began to give her a description of Beth and the more descriptive I became the more I noticed the light of recognition on her face. Hope surged. I was almost afraid to get any news because my mom always used to say ‘no news is good news’ and thus far in my life I had no reason to dispute that. Well, I thought, now is not the time for the faint of heart. I said her fi
rst name… and my new friend said her last.
“You know her?” I asked incredulously. “You truly know her?” Here was a person who had been in contact with her, most likely just yesterday.
“Not really, but I know of her.”
I don’t understand what you mean.” I was now grasping at straws, I just wanted to hear anything about Beth.
“She is the Goddess of the Arena.”
“What is that?” All the goddesses I had ever read about were always sacrificed for some stupid reason or other. This twist couldn’t be good.
She cringed at my outburst but continued anyway. “She was chosen to be the most desirable among all the women here.” She huffed as if to say ‘What am I, chopped liver?’ “And it was decided by our glorious hosts that she will be given to the winner of the entire tournament.”
The image of that animal Durgan with my girlfriend did nothing to ease my nerves. The questions I had for her came out in rapid fashion.
“Please, I will answer all your questions as best I can, but please give me some time.”
“That’s the problem,” I noted as I pointed to the screen where the third round had just begun. “I don’t have much time.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’m sorry. By the way, my name is Debbie. Debbie Carody.”
“Pleased to meet you, Debbie.” And under any other circumstances I would have been truly happy to meet her. She was around five-foot three with long blond hair, green eyes and a complexion that belied her hair and eye color. She was actually a little darker than I was and considering I had some Italian mixed in with my English heritage that made her look all the more exotic. She looked a lot like Michelle Pfeifer with a great tan and she had the body to match the face.