The Artful (Shadows of the City) (28 page)

BOOK: The Artful (Shadows of the City)
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The audience broke into a fit of laughter that broke Randy. He glared at the crowd, yelling and making angry gestures. Finally, unable to quiet his tormenters, he went for the weapon. Samsung still had his back turned, hands covering his eyes, hips swaying back and forth. Something came over Randy; his shoulders dropped, and a shadow grew over his face. He raised the knife, blade held down, and ran at Samsung. Watching him close the gap was agonizing. My heart thundered in my chest.
Would he make it?
.

Finally, as Randy approached, ready to stick the blade into warm, naked flesh, Samsung spin around, catching him, holding tight to the knife wielding hand, while unloaded a series of blows with his free hand until it seemed like Randy’s head would explode. He fell to his knees, a wobbling mess, but still trapped in Samsung. I’m almost certain the moment was filled with regret, before Samsung swung Randy around and brought the blade down with vicious force into his obese belly. Randy’s body fell to the floor. He rolled on his back, and still he struggled, until Samsung brought down a heavy boot over the knife, driving the blade and hilt into his stomach. Porky fell to the floor a lifeless husk, while the audience cheered.

“Samsung, oh, Samsung.” Chrysler was on his feet, leaning over the balcony railing, while another leather-clad female held a microphone to his mouth. “Splendid job as usual, my champion.” Applause and whistles filled the stadium. “However, I ask of you a favor. You see, as everyone can imagine, this last match was a special event. I found out a great wrong was done to me by my most trusted lieutenant. Crimes cannot go unpunished. That would just lead to anarchy, now wouldn’t it? The purpose of my arena is to measure a man’s worth. Our dear, dead friend Randy betrayed me, so I had to think to myself, was he worth redemption, was he worth the time and effort, was he worth forgiveness, what was he worth? Well, obviously from the display he just put on, he wasn’t worth a damn, now was he!” He gave a bark of raucous laughter, loudly echoed by the audience, who listened attentively to his every word. “So now that that’s been dealt with, I have the need to test the worth of two others. This again would be a special case; you see, on the one hand, I feel I owe a bit of debt to these two individuals. On the other, I am filled with disgust, knowing I have to interact with them, these worthless outsiders!”

“Smith,” I said, my heart pounding, hands moistening. “Smith, we gotta get out of here.”

“So what better way to solve my problem,” Chrysler continued, “than to test the worth of these two?” Chrysler looked into the camera. He knew his eyes would somehow find their way to mine. “The two of them will take on Samsung; if they win, they will be accepted into Brooklyn with open arms. If they lose, well then… they just weren’t worth the effort. Is this all right with you, Samsung? Are you willing to fight another fight? Do you think you are worth this handicap match?”

The crowd went crazy. Samsung held out his massive arms and bolstered the crowd. It was hard to hear him without a microphone, but it was clear he was yelling, “Bring it!”

“Okay.” I shot to my feet, searching the room for a means of escape. “This is not good. What do we do?”

“What do we do? You came to rescue me, remember!” Smith’s face mirrored my own, a look of pure terror and desperation. We weren’t fighters; there was no doubt about that. Dodger was the one always willing to jump into scraps; I wasn’t ashamed to say my strongest muscle was my brain, which was currently drawing a blank.

“Find something, anything we can use as a weapon.” I picked up a chair, intending to break one of the legs off, making a crude club. But, before I could even begin, the door opened, and three leather-clad guards marched in, guns drawn and aimed steadily at our heads. There was no fighting or escaping this. We had no choice for the time being.

They led us out into the dimly-lit corridor that reminded me of the dank, hopeless tombs of the underground world I was used to, except these tunnels had smooth-tiled walls, and the echoing clank of our feet reverberated throughout like a clock ticking down the time of our death. Smith was silent; he seemed lost in thought, focused on each step ahead. At the end of the hall, the elevator waited. Another armed guard held the door. We all stepped in and waited as the doors closed. My stomach dropped as the elevator rose. Had I not been ready to die of a heart attack, I would have been curious what they used for a power source. They all seemed far more advanced and frivolous with their technology. But I didn’t have time to wonder because the higher we got, the louder the banging grew. At first I thought it was my racing heart. But, once the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, I realized it was the sound of banging feet. The walls and ceiling vibrated with the increasing drumming. We marched to a death sentence, and the audience banged in anticipation.

We walked further down another corridor, at its end stood a double door marked
exit
. Two guards stood at either side; they smiled as we approached, looking giddy with anticipation. They opened the doors, and the pale fluorescent lights shined in, illuminating our faces with a false sense of hope and security that washed away as we stepped out into the arena. Men and women cheered with excitement, some standing up and applauding. I looked around at hundreds of faces staring at me in delight. Sickening. We were led to the barbed wire fence we saw earlier on the TV, the same one Randy struggled tooth and nail to not be thrown over. I refused to fight though. I caught Gia’s eyes. She and her father were high up on a second level dais in the VIP section. She looked unmoved as I offered her a pleading look.
Had she really betrayed me?
If this was the case, and she really was against me, I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of watching me struggle. I walked into the arena with my head held high. Smith followed my lead, walking a step behind me, but he did not offer a fight.

We marched into the center; the gate was locked shut behind us. Samsung was doing pull ups on the basketball hoop furthest from us. Disoriented by the crowd hooting and hollering all around us, I felt like a tiny ant being scrutinized by children with magnifying glasses, ready to set us ablaze with the sun’s rays.

“Please.” Chrysler was on his feet again, and he pointed to an area before him. “Welcome to the fights. I hope we find you in good health.”

“The food was good.” Smith rubbed his stomach with a smile. “But this, I don’t know about all this. We had a deal, remember?”

“Yes, yes, we did.” Chrysler seemed pensive. For a moment he didn’t speak at all. “But as it stands, the law is law. Before I can even begin to consider our little situation, you have to prove your worth. Whatever deal we have struck, you are still filth that has come from the depths of Manhattan. This, of course, in itself is unforgivable. If I were to let you walk around here of your own accord, surely my people would rip you to pieces. But prove yourself here in the arena and they will respect you and know you deserve a place here in our great city.”

“Wow,” Smith said. “Just, wow. That sounds like a whole lot of crap.”

“And me?” I asked, not taking my eyes off of Gia. “I protected your daughter. I saved her, and this is the thanks I get?”

“You are a very special case. As you can see… “ Chrysler pointed at Randy’s prone body, still lying in pool of his own blood. “Matters were dealt with in the case of my daughter, and I owe you a great debt for your part in rescuing her, not to mention returning her home unharmed. However, it still remains that you come from the same dwellings as the man beside you. You overstepped your boundaries. Do you think I did not take note the circumstances in which I found you and my daughter?”

“Oh boy,” Smith whispered under his breath. “Were you banging her?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” I shouted.

“Maybe that is what you think, but someone of your stature, has no business… caressing my daughter.” He had to force out the last bit. It really bothered him that we had been holding each other
. Good thing he didn’t see what we were doing before.
“But the fact remains that, were it not for you, my child would be in a great deal of danger, so I extend to you the chance to prove your worth, and, as you both have done me a favor, I will return the gesture by giving you both the opportunity to fight together. Surely two against one are odds in your favor. Beat my champion, and you both shall be welcomed into Brooklyn with arms wide open.” He looked up to the crowd, raising his hands out as if embracing them. “Am I not fair?”

They responded with renewed strength. Their shouts of joy seemed to engulf the world. I looked at Smith. There was a chance we could do this. Chrysler was right. We had an advantage. I only hoped Smith shared my resolve. I needed him to be at a hundred percent.

“Smith.” I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to focus him. “We got this.”

“Damn” was all he had to say.

“Let’s get this started.” Samsung somehow silently crept behind us, startling us with his strong hands on each of our shoulders. “Don’t worry, fellas. If Chrysler feels he owes you a debt, I will repay it kindly, by making your deaths swift and painless.”

“Screw that,” I said, swiftly kicking him in the balls.

He went over in a heap of curses; luckily, Smith followed my lead and swung his fist, cracking the side of Samsung’s head. He didn’t go down, so I ran behind him, kicking the back of his knees while Smith pounded away.

“Crap, man,” Smith yelled, using his left hand to continue his barrage. “I think I broke my hand. That hurt like hell.”

Samsung was down to his knees. It was like we were chipping away at a tree with our bare hands. We could win. We were actually winning! Until Samsung had enough of us. He punched Smith in the stomach so hard he almost threw up. Poor Smith crumbled in on himself, falling to the ground, gasping for air. There was no time to react before Samsung was on his feet, staring down at me.

His eyes raged with fury, spit flew from his mouth. “Now that you have thoroughly pissed me off, I will make sure to stretch this out as long as possible.”

The punch was so hard I thought my neck had snapped; his fist connected full on with my face, spinning me around and knocking me to the ground. I tried desperately to stay conscious. My mouth filled with blood, and what I could only guess was a tooth clattered around inside. I had enough time to spit crimson saliva and let my tooth dribble out the side of my mouth before Samsung kicked at my side. For a moment, I wondered who was screaming so loud before I realized it was me. I dug my fingers in the ground and tried to pull myself away, searching for escape. I could hear Samsung’s smug laughter as he brought a heavy foot down hard onto my back. Things went hazy, and sound became distorted like listening to something underwater.

I won’t go down like this!
I pushed myself up, first crawling to my hands and knees, then up to one foot. I would face him like a man. I looked up toward Gia for a brief moment, and her face was unchanged. That hurt the most. I didn’t think anything in the world could hurt me as much as her indifference to my suffering. I was wrong of course; Samsung’s knee to my face won out in the end. The snapping of the bone in my nose was horrendous. I fell back, landing on something soft. I was barely able to turn my head to see I had crumbled on top of Randy’s body.

It was agonizing to breathe; my throat kept filling with blood, and my nose seemed all but destroyed. I watched as Samsung approached; he enjoyed every bit of it, he coming in for the kill, taking in all my pain and agony.

“I’m going,” I couldn’t stop myself. Something inside kept up the fight. “To kill the hell out of you…”

“You silly little―” Before Samsung could finish, Smith was on his back, arm wrapped around his neck while his free hand raked across his eyes.

“Twist!” Smith yelled, as Samsung swung him back and forth, trying to dislodge him. “The knife! Get the knife!”

I was still in a daze. I had no idea what knife he was talking about. Instead, I watched dumbfounded as Smith attacked the giant’s head and tried to claw his eyes out. Blood was pouring from numerous scratches and his left ear, where Smith hammered. Most importantly, though, was the wheezing sound of Samsung struggling for air. Smith’s right arm was like a tight vice that never once left Samsung’s neck.

“Big ups to me, I know. Come on man, get the knife!” Samsung was down on his knee again, trying to swing behind him. Smith easily dodged his wild arms. Now, close to the ground, he found leverage and locked in a sleeper hold, while kneeing Samsung in the ribs.

The knife, the knife… oh, that knife!
I turned on my belly, looking for the knife Samsung killed Randy with earlier. There was no sign of it. My heart dropped. There was only a gaping wound in Randy’s robust belly, blood pouring out the sides like an erupted volcano. I remembered Samsung had stomped it all the way inside. I pulled myself closer, inspecting his wound; sure enough, I could see the wooden handle jutting out at an angle. At first I tried using the tips of my fingers to fish it out, but I couldn’t get a good grip.

“Hurry up, man!” Smith was trying to force the giant to the ground. Samsung had managed to gain a handful of Smith’s shirt and was pulling wildly. I went back to work on Randy. A sour stench crawled its way into my nose from the wound. It made my stomach turn, but I had no choice. I thought of it like the Lady of the Lake giving Excalibur to Arthur. I stuck my hand into Randy’s stomach, warm blood and gook squishing around my fingers as I gripped the blade and pulled it free in an arcing spray of gore.

BOOK: The Artful (Shadows of the City)
5.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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