Outlive (The Baggers Trilogy, #1) (34 page)

BOOK: Outlive (The Baggers Trilogy, #1)
2.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

             
As Emperor Daman had said in the fight introduction, Umu was the most victorious fighter of all time. He had fought in a total of fifteen fights, winning all of them. Many people asserted that Umu’s time in the Colosseum was illegal; they said that a man who couldn’t talk didn’t understand the contract he agreed to. Despite these protests, the man kept being taken to the Colosseum.

             
The HoloVision Box shifted from a street-fight to a close up of Umu’s face, which was covered in scars. In an expression more typical of dogs than humans, the man began to snarl and bark at the camera. The applause sign went up again and then the HoloVision Box went clear in preparation for the fight.

             
The food, candy and drink vendors stood up again and began to call out their food items to the audience. The crowd began to murmur and then talk as the gladiator fight neared.

             
“Remember!” A Colosseum security officer shouted at the Outlive contestants. “After this fight, we’re taking you lot to get ready!” Baggs looked back at the officer who was smiling and wearing reflective sunglasses. He had an assault rifle in his hands; it was pointed at the ground.

             
Baggs didn’t need a reminder and as he looked out over the other teams of Outlive participants he doubted that anyone else did either.
How could we possibly forget that we’ll be walking out onto the arena floor in about an hour?
The custodians had removed the corpses, but the sand was still stained with large puddles of blood.

             
“Baggs, I’m scared,” Larry whispered from his right side. Baggs could see it in the man’s expression; his face was pale, his lips were slightly drawn back and his eyes were wide.

             
“I know,” Baggs said back. He would have said, ‘me too,’ but he was conscious of the fact that other teams were seated behind them. He didn’t want to show weakness.

             
“Will you stay with me when we get in there?”

             
Baggs looked at Larry’s face. “Hang in there, buddy. I’ll stay with you.”

             
Larry was trembling all over as though he was cold. He lifted his face to the sky and cackled, startling Baggs. “I thought that I would be okay, you know? No one wants to die, but I thought I could do it. The wifey, she needed the money and I entered.” He shook his head; hot tears were filling up his blue eyes so that they sparkled. When he spoke his voice was shaking. “I entered. I did. I thought that I could do it.” He shook his head again as if answering someone’s question and then whispered, “but now I don’t know. I’m cracking up, Baggs.” Tears spilled out over his cheeks. “I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t want to die.”

             
“You won’t die, Larry,” Baggs said; it seemed like the right thing to say.

             
“You don’t know that,” Larry snapped. “You don’t know if I’ll die, or you’ll die or if our whole damned team will die.” He cackled queerly again and then dropped his head between his knees and sobbed.

             
Baggs turned away and didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say, Larry was right. There was no way to know who would die. Denying this was lying.

             
A few heads turned at the sound of Larry sobbing, but no one seemed too startled by it. He wasn’t the first Outlive contestant to start crying spontaneously; Baggs had seen people doing it through the morning, and had heard some weeping last night when the lights went out in the dormitory.

             
The crowd began to cheer wildly and temporarily drowned out the sound of Larry’s sorrow.

             
The gladiators were taking the sand.

 

 

3

 

             
The gladiators each walked out with two referees in togas flanking them.

             
Umu came from the left, his yellow wolf-eyes staring straight ahead beneath maps of pumping veins that covered his forehead. His scalp and chin were now cleanly shaved, making him look slightly more civilized; someone might mistake him for a normal citizen if they didn’t look into his eyes. Umu’s eyes conveyed intense concentration, and he walked robotically, without hardly any wasted movement. Jon Isaac came out of the right wall with the exact opposite demeanor as Umu. He was jumping, pounding his chest and yelling things at the crowd that Baggs couldn’t hear. He waved his arms and gave someone in the front row the finger.

             
They walked with the referees beside them until they stood ten feet apart. Both men wore the same thing—leather skirts and sandals. The skirts were belted below each man’s belly button and went down to the knees. Often times, gladiators wore different colors so that the audience could tell them apart. This wasn’t necessary for the fight between Umu and Jon Isaac. Jon Isaac’s skin was a dark brown—almost black—whereas Umu’s was a light olive color.

             
Instinctually, Baggs turned his head and looked at Tonya Wolf, who was sitting two seats to the left. Her eyes were wide and she licked her lips. Her piercings glinted in the afternoon sunlight.

             
She loves watching this,
Baggs thought. He tried to remember exactly what she had said in her Outlive commercial, but couldn’t.
It was something about how she enjoyed watching people die.

             
Baggs believed it, not only because Tonya Wolf was a convicted murderer, but also because of the way her eyes lit up when one of the gladiators died. She seemed to become more animated, more alive when people were dying. Baggs couldn’t help but wonder if this love of violence was caused by her genetics or if something had triggered it.
Maybe if she hadn’t grown up in New Rome where the most popular thing on the tube is
a death match she wouldn’t be this way.

Studies suggested that exposing children to violence such as that seen in Outlive and gladiator fights did not cause them to grow up as more violent people than they would have been otherwise. Baggs was skeptical of these results. He didn’t have to dig into the libraries too extensively to find that Emperor Daman had scientists on his payroll.
Am I supposed to believe that it just so happens that Daman profits from the Colosseum’s success and that his scientists say it’s not causing harm?

             
In the middle of the sand, a referee stood between the two gladiators with his arms raised. He stood like that for a few seconds and Baggs leaned forward a bit. His handcuffs were still bothering him.
They’ll be off soon enough and you’ll be down there with a sword in your hand,
Baggs thought. He pushed the idea out of his mind and watched. The referee dropped his hands, signaling the beginning of the fight.

             
Weaponless, Jon Isaac and Umu circled each other. Baggs looked up at the HoloVision Box, which was displaying a huge hologram close-up of Umu’s face. Beads of sweat lined his brow. His jaw was clenched and tucked slightly toward his chest to make his neck harder to reach. His arms were tightly coiled beside his body; as they circled, only his legs moved. Jon Isaac, on the other hand, was moving a lot. He was swaying side to side with his fists in front of him. He bounced on the balls of his feet, readying himself for action.

             
Umu took two steps forward and then his head lunged forward and he barked like a dog. In spite of himself, Jon Isaac’s eyes opened wide. There was a close up of Isaac’s face on the HoloVision Box. His eyebrows were furrowed in uncertainty as he looked at the dog-man he was about to engage in combat.

             
Baggs appraised each fighter. Umu was heavier, but Jon Isaac had a much longer reach. He couldn’t decide who he thought would win.
It’ll probably be Umu. Jon Isaac likes to act cocky, but he’s scared.

             
Isaac took a step forward, making it so that they were now almost arms-length away from each other. The crowd cheered and stomped their feet, demanding blood.

             
Umu charged.

             
The dog-man snarled as he ran at Jon Isaac. Jon Isaac was ready for this attack; he remained cool and threw a quick jab into Umu’s face. This didn’t slow Umu in the slightest, though. Instead of rolling with the blow, he ran into the fist and a spray of blood leaked out his nose as he continued his relentless charge.

             
He just broke his nose and it didn’t slow him down,
Baggs thought.

             
Umu wrapped his thick arms around Jon Isaac and the two men struggled on their feet for a moment before Isaac was brought to the ground in a cloud of displaced sand. The referees circled in closer, ready to stop the fight if it got out of hand. In Ancient Rome, referees stopped gladiator fights before they led to death, if possible; the two gladiators then presented themselves before the emperor as victor and loser; the emperor then had a decision to make—thumbs up meant that the loser lived and thumbs down meant the loser died. In some battles, like the ones on the levitating platforms, this scenario was impossible to recreate. However, in most on-the-ground gladiator combats, the participants were brought before Emperor Daman so that he could decide whether or not to spare the loser.

             
He usually had him killed.

             
As Baggs watched the plot that was unfolding on the arena floor, his hand instinctually went to his mouth. Larry had stopped sobbing beside him, but still kept his head between his knees, looking at the floor.

             
So much for the Colosseum adding ‘other factors’ in the middle of this fight. It’s pretty much over.

             
Both men sounded like dogs now. Umu was atop Jon Isaac, growling and snarling. Umu had Isaac’s cheek clenched in his teeth and was snarling and shaking his head, trying to rip his opponent’s face off. Blood sprayed in his face and Umu’s broken nose was still leaking down onto Jon Isaac below him. Jon Isaac was whimpering and yelping as he struggled frantically to get Umu off of him. However, Umu was too strong. He had both of Isaac’s hands pinned to the ground as he tore at the man’s face with his teeth. Umu was trying to get to Isaac’s neck, but Isaac had his chin planted onto his chest, trying at all costs to conceal his airway and jugular.

             
Baggs glanced up at the HoloVision Box to see a close up of Umu’s teeth gaining purchase with Isaac’s ear. He clamped down hard, and then Umu yanked his head backwards; his neck strained with bulging, corded muscles. Umu’s head shook back and forth violently. Isaac’s ear stretched out an unbelievable amount before tearing from his body. Umu spat the ear out and then savagely bit at Isaac’s face again. Umu’s mouth was coated thickly in blood. Isaac yelped and struggled; Umu continued to snarl.

             
This probably isn’t how the emperor thought this fight would go on. He probably expected a long battle between two evenly matched competitors. This is simply a torture show.

             
Finally, the referees stepped in. Two grabbed Umu by the back of his arms and yanked him upward. Umu resisted for a moment, ripped another chunk out of Isaac’s mangled face, and then allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

             
Isaac was still on the floor, hands over his bloody face, screaming and crying.

             
He knows what’s coming,
Baggs thought.

             
Umu lifted his hands to the crowd and smiled with a face covered in blood. The crowd screamed and cheered, showing their approval of the mutilation they had just witnessed.

             
Behind Umu, the referees were getting Jon Isaac to his knees. Isaac was compliant; when losers refuse to get on their knees and surrender to the sword, the emperor never showed mercy on them. Ever.
At least this way there is a slim chance,
Baggs thought. Even on his knees, the former basketball player was as tall as one of the referees.

             
Emperor Daman’s face came on the HoloVision Box and this time it took less than five seconds for the cheering crowd to go quiet. Baggs looked down at Jon Isaac; his white eyes were shifting back and forth in his bloodied head. His nose and right ear were missing. His eyebrows were drawn together and his arms were crossed, as though he was hugging himself.
This looks like a different guy than the one that gave the crowd the finger a few minutes ago.

             
“Give our victor a sword,” Daman’s voice boomed through the speakers. The
APPLAUSE
sign came up and the crowd let loose with a roar of excitement.

             
One of the referees pulled his robes aside to reveal a curved sword in a scabbard. He withdrew the weapon and handed it to Umu, handle first. Umu took it in his hands, gazing up at the crowd that was now shouting, “KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIM,” in sharp unison. Umu lifted the blade up to Jon Isaac’s neck and ran it along his skin.

Other books

Ghost Detectors Volume 1 by Dotti Enderle
Wiped Out by Barbara Colley
The Leisure Seeker: A Novel by Michael Zadoorian
The Captive by Victoria Holt