The Reckoning - 02 (51 page)

             
The Boss was standing out of reach of the bars. He was dressed much the same as before, with the only difference being the color of his polo shirt. His bodyguard was in her usual place, too. Her face was a purple swollen wreck, though. Both eyes were black and her nose was crooked with tape on it. Her lips were swollen three or four times their normal size and I could see she was missing several teeth. I couldn’t help but smile.

             
“I see I’ve improved your looks,” I managed to say, sitting painfully up on one elbow.

             
I could tell that she wanted to say something, but stopped when the “Boss” raised his hand. She bristled, but stepped back and didn’t speak. Her eyes glared hate and promises of a painful death at her hands, though. I was going to have to be careful how far I pushed her. She’d kill me, given half a chance. I was just going to have to be ready when she tried. It might just be my ticket out of here.

             
“Where’s Wilder?” I said, my voice growing stronger.

             
I rolled over into a seated position and drew my knees up in front of me, resting my forearms across them. My arms still hurt, but at least I could use them. I felt weak from not eating and from the beating I’d taken, but I was still defiant. I was still planning my escape. I had to get out and save Spec-4.

             
“Specialist Wilder is still not recovered enough to join us,” replied the Boss. “All in due time, Sheriff.”

             
“I want to talk to her,” I demanded.

             
“Go thuck youthelth,” mumbled the she-beast.

             
I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. Before she could do or say anything else, the Boss stopped her.

             
“Why don’t you take a walk,” he said, gently. “I’ll call if I need you.”

             
Once again, she glared hate and venom at me, but did as she was instructed. She kept looking back over her shoulder at me as she stomped off. I started laughing all over again, which only served to make her madder.

             
“What’s so funny, now?” asked the Boss, calmly.

             
“Have you ever seen that classic bigfoot film?” I asked.

             
“The Patterson-Gimlin footage,” he said, nodding.

             
“Yeah, that’s the one. Well, that’s exactly what she looks like stalking off like that.”

             
The Boss turned and watched her walking away. Just then, she half turned back and glared at us. She had to move her shoulders to turn enough to see us. I couldn’t have framed the image better if I had tried.

             
“Oh my,” said the Boss, chuckling. “I believe I see what you mean. The resemblance is uncanny.”

             
“I told you so,” I said, wiping tears out of my eyes. “Your bodyguard is a bigfoot.”

             
“It would appear so,” he said, smiling. “Be that as it may, we have more important things to discuss.”

             
“I’m not telling you anything,” I replied, my tone suddenly serious.

             
“I can see you’re a man of strong convictions,” he said. “However, you will learn that I am, as well. Everyone has a breaking point. Even you do, Sheriff. It’s just a matter of time before we find it.”

             
His words were chilling. I could see the fanaticism in his eyes. He would stop at nothing to break me. I had to do whatever it took to escape before Spec-4 recovered. I wasn’t sure how much I could take of watching them torture her in front of me. I knew it was just a matter of time before they tried it. They needed her to recover first. You can’t make an unconscious person scream.

             
“Give him some clothes and bring him to the circle,” he said, and walked away with his hands clasped behind his back.

             
One of the guards walked up and tossed my pants, socks, underwear, boots and t-shirt on top of the cage. He was careful to stay out of arm’s reach. Word of what I’d done to the others must have spread. That was good. I wanted them to be afraid of me. It wasn’t much of an advantage, but it was better than nothing.

             
After I was dressed, they covered me with rifles while three of them played rock, paper, scissors. The guy who lost had to unlock the cage. I knew that they weren’t supposed to shoot me, but I also knew that the average
Freeman
didn’t have much in the way of discipline. I decided not to see how far they were willing to obey the Boss. I just watched warily as he cautiously crept forward and unlocked the door.

             
As soon as it clicked, he jumped back like he was afraid I’d be on him in an instant. I just smiled at him, which made him swallow hard and take another step back. As I stretched and climbed out of the cage, I felt my muscles screaming in protest. I was one mass of bruises and injured flesh. My back, ribs, arms, stomach and chest hurt like I’d gone ten rounds with a heavyweight boxer, and lost.

             
The men kept their distance from me and prodded me in the direction they wanted me to go with gestures from the rifle barrels. No one spoke directly to me. Hel, most of them wouldn’t even make eye contact. I decided to go along with whatever was happening, because getting shot didn’t sound like a lot of fun.

             
They guided me about fifty yards to the back side of the larger of the two barns. Behind it, I could see where bleachers had been erected and there was a ring cut into the ground. It was circular and about four feet deep. Close to fifty of the
Freemen
were gathered around it, in expectation of whatever was to come. I suddenly felt like I was being led to the slaughter.

             
When we reached the edge of the circle, I saw that wooden steps led down into it. There was a large Neanderthal looking individual in the center of the ring. He was wearing combat boots, camo pants and the rest of him was covered with really bad tattoos. Even his face was covered with a crude design that was supposed to look like a wolf. He stood close to six feet six inches tall and weighed in the neighborhood of 300 lbs. Needless to say, he dwarfed me.

             
The Boss was seated in a chair on a dais above the rest of the men. He had a feral gleam in his eyes that looked altogether unhealthy. For me, that is. I was figuring out fast what they had in mind. I was being tossed into the gladiator pit for them to beat on for a while. I assumed they thought it was going to make me talk. I looked at it as the opportunity to hurt or kill some of his men without getting shot.

             
I could see Patty, that was the nickname I’d tagged the big bodyguard with because of the famous bigfoot film, was seated close to the Boss. She looked like she could almost smell blood in the air. There was electricity in the air that was almost infectious. Even I felt my blood rising. If they wanted blood, I was more than happy to oblige. I just hoped that it wasn’t
my
blood.

             
Kong was glaring at me as I descended the stairs into the ring. He had his enormous fists clenched and held against his thighs. Other than breathing, he wasn’t moving at all. He was just waiting for the word to try his best to kill me. I was going to be more than happy to disappoint him. At least, I hoped I was going to disappoint him.

             
The Boss stood and the crowd fell silent. All eyes were fixed on the two of us in the ring, but you could have heard a pin drop. He paused for dramatic effect and held his hands out to his sides with his palms up. A roar rose from the crowd and continued to grow louder, the higher he raised his hands. When it had reached a crescendo, he held it for a few seconds and then let his hands drop to his sides. Silence fell over the crowd, once more.

             
This little display told me volumes about them. For one, they followed this guy with a devotion bordering on fanaticism. It also told me that we were far enough from town and the defenses were strong enough that they didn’t care how much noise they made. Both of those tidbits added up to nothing but bad news for me and my people.

             
“Free men!” he began. “Soldiers of the New World Order! Sons of the Apocalypse!”

             
A cheer erupted from the crowd. He let it go for a second before gesturing for them to cease. They instantly complied.

             
“We have before us the instrument of our oppression,” he yelled. “One of the government lackeys who would deny us our birthright!”

             
The crowd again howled with bloodlust. They fell silent once more at his command.

             
“This man has killed many of our brethren!” he cried. “Destroyed much of what we have worked to achieve! Slaughtered the faithful to our cause!”

             
He was a hell of a speaker, though. Hel, even I was starting to hate me. He was working the crowd into a frenzy.

             
“Now we have the chance to put this man to the test,” he called, somewhat quieter. “We will put his strength against our mightiest warriors. He will learn what it is to face the Sons of the Apocalypse! He will face the vengeance of the
Freemen!
”

             
The crowd howled their approval and started stamping their feet on the bleachers. It was loud enough to carry a long ways. I wasn’t sure how far we were in the country, but I sincerely hoped it attracted the attention of every zombie within ten miles. If I was going to die, I would go with a smile on my face knowing they all went with me.

             
The big Cro-mag started cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders. Then he started popping his knuckles. It was about to begin. This guy was one big mass of muscle. Unlike the pet Sasquatch that served as the bodyguard for the Boss, this guy’s stomach could have been used to wash dirty laundry. He looked like he could bench-press a truck. Yeah, this was going to hurt.

             
The
she-squatch
in question signaled the beginning of the fight by knocking a tire iron against a hubcap three times. Instantly, the caveman behemoth launched himself at me with his hands outstretched. He rushed at me like he was going for my throat to simply choke the life out of me. I had other plans that didn’t involve me choking. The one thing that worked to my advantage was that as a CO, I trained for ground fighting.

             
Just as he got within a foot of me, I launched myself to the side and lashed out with a savage kick to the side of the knee. I felt metal beneath those fatigue pants. He was wearing knee braces. So much for a fair fight. Well, fair-ish. He was still twice my size, without the knee armor.

             
He swung a vicious backhand at my head, but I was already moving. Mobility was life for me, right now. He didn’t connect with my head, but he still managed to hit me in the shoulder. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. I was knocked to the edge of the pit and slammed into the side with enough force to knock the breath out of me. I just managed to dive out of the way as he crashed into the spot where I had been.

             
I forced myself to my feet and tried to put some distance between us. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have had any trouble outrunning this guy. The problem was I wasn’t in very good condition at the moment. I was already hurting from the captivity. I was hungry and weak, but I was also desperate. I wanted to live. I knew that if he got his hands on me, it was over. I briefly considered kicking him in the gonads, but decided against it. If he was wearing knee armor, you could bet he’d armored the jewels, too. Instead, I kept moving.

             
As he came lumbering towards me, I took two running steps and placed my foot on the side of the ring. Then I launched myself into the air and spun towards him. He was coming right at me like a juggernaut when I landed possibly the best punch I’ve ever thrown in my life. I was in mid-air when I struck him in the mouth with my entire body weight and all the strength I could muster. The force of the impact made my arm go numb all the way to my shoulder. My right hand felt like it might be broken. I knew that punch had to have put him out for the count.

             
I heard the crowd gasp when I hit him, but I watched in horror as he merely rocked back on his heels, and stood right back up. His lips were bloodied, but other than that he looked completely unfazed. My mouth must have gaped open at this. I was completely stunned. Before I could react, he grabbed me and pressed me above his head like I didn’t weigh an ounce.

             
Then he took two steps and threw me across the ring like a pro-wrestler, only this fight wasn’t choreographed. I hit the front row of spectators on the bleachers. They might have cushioned the landing, but it still hurt like hell. Several of them took the opportunity to punch or kick me before shoving me back into the ring. I fell to the floor of the pit, bleeding and barely able to use my right hand. I was coughing up blood and spasms of pain lanced through my body. I was in trouble.