RecruitZ (Afterworld Series) (7 page)

Read RecruitZ (Afterworld Series) Online

Authors: Karice Bolton

Tags: #dystopian action, #fantasy about zombies, #postapocalptic, #dystopian apocalyptic, #apocacylptic, #fantasy contemporary

BOOK: RecruitZ (Afterworld Series)
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“Flesh Eater,” I began to chant as the new fighter was slowly led down the corridor. I only saw the feet slowly marching in as the guiders walked by. Instead of tapping on the guy’s shoulder who was in my way, I pounded on it. He let out a grunt and stepped to the side, allowing me to see my worst nightmare unfold in front of me. Gavin’s brother was the new fighter.

 

 

 

The crowd was going insane as both fighters appeared in the ring. My screams couldn’t be distinguished from anyone else’s as I fought my way through the crowd.

“Peter,” I hollered. I was only ten or so feet away from the cage. I could make it there with just a few shoves. I elbowed the man to my left as I heard him insult my brother-in-law.

“What was that for?” the man yelled, but before I could respond, Preston came up behind me and cupped his hand over my mouth.

“Not here and not now,” he hissed in my ear.

He slowly guided me back through the mass of people so that the crowd swallowed me into the safety of obscurity.

“Let the match begin,” Brenda hollered, as I worked to get away from Preston’s tight grip.

“Don’t do it,” he whispered. “They’re watching you.”

His words went off like a stick of dynamite in my psyche. I had to get a grip. I straightened up and began cheering, but I was unable to take my eyes off Peter. I watched as the guiders released the chains, signaling the start of the show.

“This is considered to be the oldest spectator sport,” a drunk guy next to me slurred. He winked at me and burped.

“I think you’re thinking of cockfighting,” I replied, not taking my gaze off the ring.

“Same thing. Just with a modern twist,” he laughed.

The green and blue lights switched off, turning the tent pitch black. Preston’s hand ran down my arm and into my hand. I glanced at both zombies who stood motionless—hunched over—in the shadows. Nothing was happening. What were they waiting for? Just as I silently asked my question, red lights flashed quickly on and bounced off the sides of the tent. Apparently that was what the zombies needed. The crowd went silent as Curly reached his arms out for my brother-in-law; his mouth looked like a gaping, soulless cavern as my brother-in-law dodged his attack. Zombies weren’t thinking beings.

But that took some thought.

My brother-in-law reached for Curly and grabbed his neck, ramming him into the chain-link fence. My stomach turned as I watched shredded pieces of Curly fall to the ground. But at least it wasn’t pieces of Peter. I cringed at the last thought and began not-so-silently rooting for my brother-in-law.

This was what my world had become.

“Rip into him,” I yelled. “Don’t let him get away.”

Curly reached up and grabbed Peter’s shirt. His fingers clung to the fabric as Peter pushed Curly to the floor. My stomach was in knots as if my brother-in-law was actually fighting for his life. I had to get ahold of myself. My heart desperately wanted to believe it was Peter, but my mind knew better as I watched Peter punch his fist into Curly’s chest. My eyes moistened and I blinked back the tears.

A wave of nausea rolled through my body, and I turned away as Peter stood up holding something in his hands and then threw it at the crowd. Pieces flew through the fencing, and the screams from the crowd rivaled a rock concert. I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to last.

Peter grabbed Curly’s hand that was attached to his shirt and squeezed it so tightly, I heard cracking noises drift over the speakers. The audience roared in delight, and Peter turned around slowly, gazing at the crowd of people on the other side of the fence—his mouth open, jaw slack.

For a fraction of a second, I locked eyes with Peter. I wanted to believe more than anything that I saw a flicker of recognition behind his grey stare, but I’d be lying to myself. And that was too dangerous. I watched him turn back around and dive into Curly, evidence of his victory splashing into the crowd. I turned away in disgust, and listened to the crowd’s recount of the next several minutes of Peter’s victory as I attempted to steady my breath, body, and sanity. Preston’s hand was still in mine and I didn’t let go. The red lights were exchanged for the blue and green lights and the fight was over.

My brother-in-law won.

He would live another day to fight to the death.

That was today’s victory.

That was tomorrow’s defeat.

“Let’s give a round of applause for our newest champion,” Brenda’s voice broke over the speakers.

The crowd erupted into applause, and I felt like my world had gone into slow motion as the people around me pulsed their fists into the air. Was this what humanity was left with in the Afterworld? I thought back to Abby and how simply she looked at our new world. But maybe that was what she had to do to survive.

I had that choice this very moment. I could turn my back on finding out what was going on, or I could continue to fight for the truth—Gavin’s truth. He deserved that and so did his brother.

A familiar tingle began in my fingertips as I thought about how good it would feel to expose what was going on. I wanted to find out how these zombies were being trained to behave like this. Something in my gut told me that Gavin’s death and this were related, and it was time for a little retribution.

“What should we name the victor?” Brenda continued, scanning the crowd.

Men and women began shouting names as the guiders reattached the chains to lead Peter out. And that’s when something inside of me snapped. I couldn’t be like Abby. I couldn’t act like this wasn’t happening in our world. I needed answers. I needed payback. I squeezed Preston’s hand and let go.

“Payback,” I hollered into the tent.

The crowd went silent as Brenda followed the voice to me. She smiled and her brow rose slightly as she considered my offering.

“Payback,” she cooed into the microphone. “I think we have a winner. What do you all think?”

The crowd cheered and began chanting Payback.

If only they knew.

“That’s right. This is payback to all the vicious creatures that stole our loved ones away,” Brenda said, playing the part of a mournful citizen as she scanned the audience. “This is the people’s Payback.”

No, bitch. This was my payback. I smiled back at Brenda and felt Preston’s gaze on me as I stood taking the scene in. I would take this down, somehow, someway.

Brenda continued igniting the crowd, fueling the hatred, pumping more money from the audience members as she spoke. That was how they were able to play on these people. They were making the vulnerable feel like they had a say in the fate of these creatures…as if they had power over the situation.

I watched Peter slowly walk down the path as the guiders led him back the way he came. I fought the lump in my throat when I realized I might never see Peter again—my last connection to Gavin. But what saddened me even more was that I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

“You okay?” Preston asked. “You look like you want to kill someone.”

“I just may,” I shot back, watching Marcus speaking to Brenda as the arena was prepared for the second fight of the evening. My fight was next and I didn’t even care.

“Have a drink with me later,” Preston said, grabbing my arm so I’d look at him.

“No.”

“I’m not asking,” he replied, his eyes flashing between Marcus and me.

I shook his fingers off my arm and crossed my arms as I turned to glare at him. “I’m not sure what you’re after, but I don’t have time for it.”

I heard the rise and fall of the audience as Brenda turned back to the microphone. “Ready for Wave Two?” she asked the crowd.

In a daze, I watched as the two zombies were moved into place. My bet, Jared, was one of them. Even in the shadows, he looked as agitated as he did earlier in the cage. The lights changed to red and once again, the zombies began their assault. This fight was more vicious—messier—as the zombies tore into one another. I took a step back as flesh and bits sprayed into the crowd. Thankfully all the large men in front of me blocked me from the mess.

I couldn’t actually tell which zombie was winning. Only so I could get my money back, I hoped Jared was in the lead, but I really didn’t care. I felt a set of eyes on me from the far corner and lifted my gaze to see who was watching me. It was Marcus. Discomfort lodged into my gut as I turned my attention back to the fight. I needed to get out of here as soon as the fight ended.

“Better step up your game,” Preston murmured. “Or you risk exposing more than you realize.”

I had no idea what Preston was talking about, but his tone told me one thing. I wasn’t alone. I threw my fist into the air and attempted to shout at the correct times and cheer my bet on. I watched the zombies with careful consideration and one thing was for sure. These weren’t anything like the zombies that we had grown to fear during the apocalypse. These held something deeper and more mysterious for us to fear. I just wasn’t sure what.

Jared wrenched the head off the other zombie, ending the match, and I looked away as I tried to regain some sort of stability. But my mind flashed to Gavin as he was hauled out of the car, and I couldn’t catch my breath.

I needed air.

A victor was declared.

I needed out of here.

Intermission was announced as Jared was led out of the tent and the chain-link barrier leading him away from us was torn down.

“About that drink?” I asked Preston.

He nodded and led me out of the tent.

“I need to go get my winnings,” I whispered.

“You bet on Payback?” he asked.

“No. Jared.”

“Too bad. Your payout would have been huge on that new one.”

My stomach twisted into knots as he spoke about my brother-in-law. There was no way for Preston to know, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

He guided me to a tent that I hadn’t noticed before.

“Where is everyone?” I asked.

“Most continue to bet up until the end and don’t cash out until then,” he answered.

I gave my ticket to a woman who was standing behind a makeshift counter. She nodded and glanced at my outfit.

“First time here?” she asked, counting out my winnings.

I nodded.

“What did you think?” she asked.

“Don’t know if I quite have the stomach for it.”

She counted out the small stack of hundreds. “Twelve-hundred.”

“That might make me learn to love it,” I lied, flashing her a grin.

“Always does,” she said, recounting the stack in front of me.

“Thanks.” I grabbed the money and stuffed it in my bra.

I noticed Preston’s gaze drop to follow my fingers, and then he looked away quickly.

As we made our way out of the tent, Brenda was already outside making the rounds, drumming up business for the second half.

“How’d you like it?” she asked, waving at us.

“I don’t quite have the stomach for it, but I might learn to love it.”

“That’s the spirit.” She winked at Preston. “You two leaving?”

“I think it’s best,” I said. “I don’t want to become the main event when my stomach turns.”

Brenda laughed and nodded in agreement. “Don’t blame you. It takes some getting used to and that last one was pretty rough. Gotta get back at it, but I’m glad you came out tonight, Rebekah.”

“Thanks.”

I watched her walk away and waited for Preston to say something. He didn’t. Instead, I followed his gaze and saw Marcus talking intently to one of the TRAC members.

“Well, you ready? I’ll pick the spot and you can follow me there. Not that I don’t trust you but—”

“I get it,” he said smiling, returning his attention back to me. “You like to take the lead.”

I rolled my eyes and walked down the driveway with Preston by my side.

“I just like to stay alive. Where’d you park?” I asked.

“To the right. You?”

“Same.”

“So are you going to let me in on what you’re really doing here?” he asked, his voice low as we walked onto the street toward our cars.

There were no streetlights so this section of roadway was quite dark until Preston turned on a flashlight.

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