Grandpa Greg smiled toward Gayle next. “So, it seems our PPRE couple has invaded Orns. Helping your online fling out? Or are you running from Thrive? The potential of this story is endless. You all will make me very wealthy indeed.” He leaned in toward Gayle but spoke loudly enough for all to hear. “Call your PPRE mate, Gayle. Tell him to come out of his little cage. Did he tell you I used to lock him in a closet and make him beg…?”
She spat. “No, pig.”
“None of you will help me. You don’t want to play along.” Grandpa Greg’s voice changed pitch, and he looked hurt, actually hurt, at the rejection of his offers. He danced into the center and waved around him. “Am I not a senator of progress? A pillar of this world? A god among slaves?”
The guards began to chant in response. A chorus of worship.
“You are the mighty manager and the god of slavery,” the voices began to chant. “God of slavery. God of industry. God of power.”
David felt chills down his spine that had nothing to do with the night breeze, the thorns in his side, the caked blood on his face, or his broken arm.
The purple-robed man closed his eyes and swayed back and forth. He shouted to the pillar that rose above the hellish scene. “I’m more than a man—I’m a transcendent manager. Now a god in this place of history.” Then he opened his eyes and waved until the chanting stopped. He bellowed, “Let’s add some drama to this evening’s already-full agenda. Let’s get some more motivation out for our hidden rats. A surprise for David’s companion, our internally divided Sonz warrior.” He signaled to a guard near the cliff building. “Bring out our warrior Moonz girl.”
David looked at the warrior next to him. Phel gasped, and he almost jumped into the clearing when he saw Jillian being dragged out by two guards. Her hands were bound in front of her, and her leather armor was battered. Her long blond hair was in a disheveled partial braid.
“Truth befuddle me. She was sold out,” Phel whispered. “You were right, David.”
“Watch her, boss. This one is dangerous.” The guard pointed to a fresh wound across his face.
“Give me her now!” Uncaring, Grandpa Greg screamed and grabbed Jillian by her fair hair.
“Not like the other ones. This one can fight,” the guard warned. “Easy, girl,” he said, backing away tentatively.
Still holding her by her hair, Grandpa Greg pulled her onto her knees in a fit of managerial rage. He ignored the advice of his plebian guard. Phel instinctually loosened his sword strap and tightened his grip on the worn handle. He quivered with rage as the manager shouted to woods, “Treacherous Sonz warrior, come out from hiding, or I’ll gut and rape your Moonz affair!” Greg smirked. “Then I’ll leave you like a broken, discarded orphan on the steps of the Alexorian castle. Returned to the masters you betrayed.”
A wild warrior’s rage filled Phel’s eyes. He mumbled a mantra of battle. “My soul shall become the fierceness of the night to be the instrument of death for eternal glory.” He swallowed air like a drowning man and straightened his back, a killer emerging from within. “May my sword shine through the enemy with the victory of the sun.”
A torn man with two destinies and mantras, David noted. Fate playing with the mind.
In a low, guttural voice, Phel whispered to him, “By the god, the sun, and moon. How does this complete stranger know about me? It’s as if my soul has been bared to the winds for all to know and taunt me.” He frowned at the sky above them. “What a nasty trick of fate.”
It must be strange having all these random people taunting him with his life story with no idea he’s being watched in the real world. David thought of telling him the truth, but he remembered, The truth will not set you free but bind you with restraints of reality. It wasn’t the time for the truth, he decided. It would never be a good time to tell these people the truth. It would break them. Instead, David said, “Don’t be foolish and selfless, you idiot. Live to fight another day.”
“Follow me into the fight, and find a way out if we are still alive, David. I will kill this fat pig of a man.” Phel was shaking in rage. “The heartless stand aside while advantage is being taken of friends.”
Searching for a rebuttal, David tried to stop the warrior from his foolish attack. “There will be a—” He never finished his sentence, because Phel leaped from the woods with his sword whirling like a demon from battle games. Moving with lethal intent, he cut down a black-robed guard with a twist of his double-sided blade and then stooped, rotated, and pierced a second. A beautiful dance of death began.
“Oh my manager…” Shaken, David whispered in awe. His feet didn’t move. He seriously considered fleeing with his life. He wanted to flee, knew he should, but the tug of his friendships held him helplessly in place against his intuition.
“Reflect the moon!” Phel roared. The first guard fell silent instantly, and the second toppled and screamed, grabbing for his ankles. Responding like a battle-hardened veteran, Gem jumped forward to engage Phel as the knight danced onward, curved blade leaping from her robes. Only moments later, the scarlet knight hoisted his enormous double-handed sword, roared, and charged. The three clashed in the bonfire light. Sparks flew, and the clangs reached the heavens, the twirling death match a thing of beauty and terror.
“Hush, oh fate of death. Come, oh guide of earth, judge the invader.” The slavers formed a circle around the battle and began to chant, “The path to death. The staff of pain. The path from life. Hush of fate. Come, oh power.”
Overcoming his better judgment, David finally gathered his courage, more due to shame than bravery, and ran toward the fight, his bound arm flipping like a chicken wing. But he was met by a black robe and a whip that whirled toward him, whip cracking like lightning in his ears. The lightning was aimed at his unprotected face, but he tripped, the weight of his sword throwing him off-balance. He landed in front of Gayle and Tara. “I’ll save you,” he grunted from pain as his arm popped, but a heavy foot landed on his back and pinned him down. He cursed.
“Oh, really? Who’ll you save?” A voice laughed with evil intent. The boot pinned him harder. David squirmed like a trapped mouse, to no avail. “Stock, beg me to release you!”
David knew that voice, and he collapsed in panic. The elated manager screamed in delight at his victims, one foot on David’s back and one hand grasping Jillian’s hair.
“Beg me, David-23. Let me hear it.”
“No, never.” But David knew he would beg. To his shame he knew. A tear filled his eyes. Gayle smiled sadly at him, pushing her chin high, encouraging him to do the same. She didn’t judge his failure.
Though Grandpa Greg still gripped her hair, Jillian moved faster and more violently than the manager expected. She screamed and pulled her head down hard, and at the same time her knee came up and crashed into his knee. Greg toppled. Her bound hands twisted him around and pinned him to the ground, using his off-balance weight to make him release his grasp of the crossbow at his waste. She grabbed a bolt, quick as lightening, holding the sharp end to his throat.
“Desist! Everyone stop!”
But the fighting continued, and the clamor of swords filled the air. The chant continued: “The path to death. The staff of pain. The path from life.” The ring of slavers around Phel, Gem, and the scarlet knight roared.
Jillian pushed the arrowhead against the squirming manager’s Adam’s apple.
“Stop, all of you. Stop now!” Grandpa Greg screamed hysterically, even Gem and the scarlet knight heard the hapless scream. “I’ll fire you two if you don’t stop fighting. Instantly!” He was desperate, demeanor shifting significantly. The dance of death ceased, the contestants sweating and bloodied, panting hard. Jillian signaled to Phel that she had things under control.
“Phel, release the prisoners while I gut this swine.”
Phel walked over to her, his arm bleeding from several deep cuts. He sawed the ropes around Jillian’s wrists. Phel picked up the crossbow and pointed it at the red knight with the whip crest.
Released, David squirmed up to his knees as Phel pointed at him to start freeing captives.
Phel freed Patrick and the children who were still alive from the chain. Logan and Carolina Brac quivered from fear at the sight of him. Domin and Frank were among the survivors. Eric and Danielle, weak from bondage, staggered toward Phel.
David cut the bonds above Tara, but as she came free, she kicked him hard in the groin and kneed him in the face. “Patrick, get the others and run from these monsters!”
“What are you doing?” Patrick ran up to his wife. “He is my friend. We came to free you.”
Tara kicked at David. “Murdered my father,” she screamed.
Watching the guards intently, Jillian screamed at Tara. “Fool! Pull yourselves together. Isn’t the time to fight among ourselves—not if you want to get out of here alive.”
Phel moved over to the fallen David and helped him up. Keeping his sword hand free, he warily watched the black-robed slavers as their fingers began to twitch for action. “You’d better get your people out of here. Kidnapping this fat freak will only hold the slavers off for a little bit. They’ll attack at any moment. Flee to the mountains, and try to lose them. Split up. Jillian and I will hold the fat man and then run for it.”
“Tara,” David said, standing up and trying to calm her. “I am sorry for our differences, but I’m on your side now.”
“He is a slaver,” she insisted to her husband. “Worse than these pigs.” Patrick held her in his bleeding arms, shocked at the reaction toward David.
I should have told him the entire truth, David thought, guilty. He saw the confusion in Patrick’s eyes. I betrayed him by lying. “Tell her I am on your side, Patrick,” David begged. He cut Gayle free with his good arm.
Gayle joined in on David’s side to convince the hysterical Tara to move along. “Gotta get out of here, Tara. We must get as many of these slaves out of here as possible.”
Domin approached. “Where should we go?” Then he turned to Patrick.
“Patrick, he’s an evil man,” Tara insisted, but thankfully she began to assist in the escape. “We cannot trust him, or we will all be slaves again. He tried to rape me. He killed my father.”
Patrick looked at David with distrustful eyes, looked once at his wife, and then punched David in the jaw before David could say anything to defend himself. But the punch faltered, and Patrick stumbled, weak from his wounds. David caught him before he fell.
“Sorry, friend. I’m on your side. I’ll help you too. Sorry I didn’t tell you.” He hoisted Patrick up. “She was a slave. I owned them all as part of my project. But I see that it’s wrong.” The man looked into David’s eyes. “You see, I was a different person.” David signaled for Tara to hold him up. “We must work together, or we will all die. Let me prove I am on your side, or that monster will win.” He pointed at Grandpa Greg.
Tara nodded. “For the sake of the others.”
Gayle put her hand on David. “There must be a train tunnel to Orns nearby that Grandpa Greg and Orns used to access this location. Another access location.”
Catching on, Tara pointed to the large wooden door the size of a drawbridge gate to the right of the stone building against the gray cliff. “That’s where they brought me into this world. They use it to access their center.”
“You people are crazy. Never get cornered in a cave. Dead ends are traps,” Phel said. “They will burn you out or have you trapped inside.”
“It is our only chance,” Gayle huffed. “No time to explain.”
“Get moving. We can’t hold them much longer,” Jillian yelled. She pushed the blade against the manager’s neck again. “Order the slavers to step back.”
“Back, back. All of you!” The slavers in the robes inched forward. Phel shouted as he waved his sword and the crossbow.
David explained to him, “Phel, we think there’s a tunnel that’ll get us to the other side of the cliff and toward our farms. Need to risk it.”
“Burn it down when you get through. We go another direction.”
“We will.”
“Until we meet again on the other side of the sun.” Phel gave David a traditional warrior’s departing thump with his fist.
Domin, Patrick, and Tara pointed the non-Dwellers to the wooden door. The Medieval Storyworld prisoners began to flee into the woods, Danielle and Eric leading the way. The crew from Xchange and Tri-Coalition headed toward the tunnel.
“You’d better be right, Tara,” Frank said. The children, Domin, Tara, Frank, and Gayle ran toward the door.
Grandpa Greg shouted to David before Jillian silenced him, “Leaving me to victory, weakling.” David turned at the taunt; the sight of his tormenter filled him with hatred. He took a step toward the fallen man.
“Flee, David,” Phel demanded. “You’ll ruin the escape.”
The rage roared through his mind; David didn’t listen. “I will have my revenge in this world or in Nnect.” David looked at his enemy, blood boiling. “You will beg for mercy before the CEO.” He took another step.
Gayle screamed, “Leave him, David. Now is our chance.”
The guards edged in closer; David didn’t see. Gayle. He looked at her. Revenge. He looked at Grandpa Greg. Rage drove his indecision, pent-up and ugly.
Letting the crossbow tip drop, Phel turned and shoved David. “Fly from here. Gods take you. Goooo.”
Grandpa Greg taunted David again. “The CEO will know of your shame. You are mine. I win.” Jillian nudged the obstinate prisoner with her knife point, which Phel had returned to her. “Silence, or I’ll cut you.”
“You wouldn’t dare. No one would dare.” Fire returning to his voice, Grandpa Greg waved at the slaver at the door; it slammed shut in front of the fleeing group. Voices of despair filled the air.
Gayle screamed at David, “It’s not too late, but Greg has an electronic key.” David looked at her, the rage quieting as he watched her. She cared about these people. He tried to care, push his rage down, push his fears down, resist the desire for revenge for those he cared about. For his friendship with Patrick. For redemption.
Tearing his gaze away from the source of his torment, David yelled to Jillian, “That man has a magic key for the door.”
“Oh, do you?” Jillian asked Greg, as she pressed the knife into his throat. This time Grandpa Greg got the message and began to beg her to stop. “Open the door, sorcerer.” She screamed, watching the guards coming closer.
It worked. Greg waved his arm again. The gate opened.
“Gayle, let’s flee!” David raced toward her, the spell of foolishness released. He looked behind him, and to his dismay, Gem and the red knight broke the standstill, rushing toward Jillian and Phel. The other guards followed suit; whips and swords converged on Phel and Jillian.
Phel swung his sword and screamed a battle cry as they rushed him, trying to get beyond to the prisoners fleeing toward the gate. Two slavers set upon Jillian.
“Do you know who I ammm, gurr-owwh.” Grandpa Greg gurgled against the blade at his throat. Jillian didn’t hesitate and slit Grandpa Greg’s throat, pushing his body toward her assailants.
The body of David’s tormenter toppled, lifeless. David stared, frozen in disbelief. It’s over…or just begun.
“Run, David!” Gayle, her blond hair streaming behind her, tugged him along. As they reached the fleeing Tri-Coalition slaves, Logan, the freckled teen, tripped and fell behind.
“Sir, help!” Logan screamed. David noticed the wound from Grandpa Greg’s bolt still stuck in the youth’s leg.
Gayle turned to help; David reprimanded her. “Stop, Gayle, don’t save the weak!” She looked askance at him and began to move back down the path. This isn’t happening, David thought. I don’t help people. His brand stimulated in that moment, almost knocking him to his knees with pleasure.
Carolina Brac, seeing her friend fall behind, ran after Gayle. “Logan, I’m coming,” she screamed.
Enough is enough, Davi
d told himself. I will not be a coward. All those around me, even this girl, Gayle, the gimp, Patrick, and Phel can help people. I need to try. Just try. Panting and fighting the sudden pain from the brand, David blocked Carolina by grabbing her wrist. She tried to escape him. “Gayle, I’ll get Logan. Take Carolina.” Thank the stock, she heard him. Gayle put a hand on David’s cheek in gratitude, grabbed Carolina, and pulled her up the trail to the door to escape.
“Sir, help, ohha.” Logan stumbled again. The slavers were only twenty feet away. David reached the boy and hoisted him on his back with his one good arm and ran, stumbling up the path.
“Take him out,” Gem screamed at the guards closing in on David. David imagined that Gem and the scarlet knight were locked in fierce combat with Phel and Jillian. Heart clenching inside his chest, lungs bursting with fire, David ran for all he was worth, slavers hot on his heels, screaming bloody murder. When Domin saw the robed assailants gaining on Logan, Gayle and David, he stopped and bravely rushed back down the stone pathway to protect those already through the door with his body. Tara and Patrick screamed at him to come back, but then noticing Logan and Carolina had fallen behind, they yelled at David with encouragement as he stumbled toward them.
“Save as many as you can, and lock the door!” Domin replied bravely, gimping as fast as he could past Gayle and David. Gimp gave David a nod, a look of tranquility on his face that he had never seen before. Resignation and love. With determination, Gimp picked up a staff and swung it like a spear at the foremost predators. He stopped the group from reaching Logan, Carolina, David, and Gayle, giving them a chance to escape. The youths screamed as Domin yelled at them to flee. Domin defended the path, but the attackers battered him to the ground mercilessly. He rose, bloodied again. They battered him to the ground again. Domin rose again.
“We must close this door and lock it!” David yelled as all of them made it through the door, panting hard.
“There had better be a tunnel here, or we are all dead,” Gayle screamed.
“Domin isn’t through yet!” Frank yelled, but they knew it was hopeless for him. “Oh my God, Domin. Why?” The slavers battered him to the ground again. He rose a third time, swaying on his feet.
A Tale Of Doings Page 63