gotta find a way out of here…
“Did I pass the test?” I shout in the direction I think Mondello is. Hard to say with the lights blinding me.
“Test, Mr. Stanford? This isn’t a test,” Mondello replies. Still can’t see the fucker. “This is a show. These people work hard all day long and deserve some entertainment. You’ve done a fine job so far.”
“But there’s more, right?” I ask. “The evening is still young and all that. The show must go on. Is that it? Haven’t you heard the saying ‘leave them wanting more’? I don’t mind postponing the rest until tomorrow night. You should see me when I’m rested. I’ll do this again and then you can let me and Leeds go. How’s that sound? Two nights for the price of one.”
“No, no, I don’t think so, Mr. Stanford,” Mondello laughs. “This is a one night engagement. You should feel honored; you get to perform in front of the President of the United States. Not many get that privilege.”
“Oh, I’m not sure I call this privilege,” I reply. “So what happens now? You keep sending Zs at me until I die, and then it’s Leeds turn?”
“Why wait?” Mondello says. “I think Captain Leeds should have a turn now.”
Good. Some backup. I could use it. Maybe while we fight the Zs together we can come up with some plan to get us the fuck out of this shitty situation. Come on, it can’t end like this. Not fighting Zs like post-apocalyptic gladiators. I always thought I’d die in a blaze of glory, sacrificing myself to save my family. That’s the way to go out, not this shit.
The chain link rattles and Leeds is shoved into the arena with me.
“What? He doesn’t get a weapon?” I shout. “Afraid he’ll use it against you once we’re done killing all the Zs you throw at us?”
“You want him to have a weapon, Mr. Stanford?” Mondello asks.
“Uh, yeah, that’s what I just said.”
“Fine, he can have a weapon,” Mondello says. “How does that sound, folks? Should we give Captain Leeds a weapon?” The crowd erupts into laughter. What the fuck are they laughing at? Is it some inside joke that I’m missing? “Sounds like they want Captain Leeds to have a weapon too, Mr. Stanford.”
A large pipe is tossed into the arena, just feet from Leeds.
“Thanks. It’s appreciated,” I yell then look at Leeds. “Grab that, Captain. You’re going to need it.”
I grip The Bitch and wait for the next round of Zs. And wait. I look over at Leeds and see he’s hanging his head and hasn’t even moved an inch towards the pipe.
“Dude, grab that shit and get ready,” I call to him.
Pain erupts in my right shoulder and I look down to see a crossbow bolt protruding from me. I pull it out and toss it onto the gravel. The wound isn’t deep and the bolt wasn’t barbed, but it still hurts.
“What the fuck, Mondello? Didn’t think I was wounded enough?” I yell at him.
“Oh, I just needed to motivate Captain Leeds,” Mondello says. “They can get so confused when they are fresh. That bit of humanity that still lingers in the synapses.”
“What the hell are you…talking…about…?” I say then look closely at Leeds.
His head was hanging down, but as soon as the crossbow bolt hits the gravel, it snaps up. His grey eyes lock onto the bolt then he starts to sniff the air. I look at the stain of blood on my shoulder then back at Leeds. His grey eyes are on me.
His dead, grey eyes.
“No, no, no,” I whisper. “Please no. Why? Why him?” I begin to shake, a fury like I’ve never felt before growing in me.
“YOU FUCKS!” I scream. “YOU CRAZY FUCKS! NOT HIM! HE WAS THE GOOD GUY!” My chest hitches as I struggle to get control of myself. “He was my friend…”
And my friend is hungry. For me.
Leeds sprints towards me. He doesn’t shamble or shuffle, but sprints. I guess that’s what happens when a trained soldier is freshly turned. His body hasn’t had a chance to atrophy and rigor mortis hasn’t damaged the muscles
“Did I pass the test?” I shout in the direction I think Mondello is. Hard to say with the lights blinding me.
“Test, Mr. Stanford? This isn’t a test,” Mondello replies. Still can’t see the fucker. “This is a show. These people work hard all day long and deserve some entertainment. You’ve done a fine job so far.”
“But there’s more, right?” I ask. “The evening is still young and all that. The show must go on. Is that it? Haven’t you heard the saying ‘leave them wanting more’? I don’t mind postponing the rest until tomorrow night. You should see me when I’m rested. I’ll do this again and then you can let me and Leeds go. How’s that sound? Two nights for the price of one.”
“No, no, I don’t think so, Mr. Stanford,” Mondello laughs. “This is a one night engagement. You should feel honored; you get to perform in front of the President of the United States. Not many get that privilege.”
“Oh, I’m not sure I call this privilege,” I reply. “So what happens now? You keep sending Zs at me until I die, and then it’s Leeds turn?”
“Why wait?” Mondello says. “I think Captain Leeds should have a turn now.”
Good. Some backup. I could use it. Maybe while we fight the Zs together we can come up with some plan to get us the fuck out of this shitty situation. Come on, it can’t end like this. Not fighting Zs like post-apocalyptic gladiators. I always thought I’d die in a blaze of glory, sacrificing myself to save my family. That’s the way to go out, not this shit.
The chain link rattles and Leeds is shoved into the arena with me.
“What? He doesn’t get a weapon?” I shout. “Afraid he’ll use it against you once we’re done killing all the Zs you throw at us?”
“You want him to have a weapon, Mr. Stanford?” Mondello asks.
“Uh, yeah, that’s what I just said.”
“Fine, he can have a weapon,” Mondello says. “How does that sound, folks? Should we give Captain Leeds a weapon?” The crowd erupts into laughter. What the fuck are they laughing at? Is it some inside joke that I’m missing? “Sounds like they want Captain Leeds to have a weapon too, Mr. Stanford.”
A large pipe is tossed into the arena, just feet from Leeds.
“Thanks. It’s appreciated,” I yell then look at Leeds. “Grab that, Captain. You’re going to need it.”
I grip The Bitch and wait for the next round of Zs. And wait. I look over at Leeds and see he’s hanging his head and hasn’t even moved an inch towards the pipe.
“Dude, grab that shit and get ready,” I call to him.
Pain erupts in my right shoulder and I look down to see a crossbow bolt protruding from me. I pull it out and toss it onto the gravel. The wound isn’t deep and the bolt wasn’t barbed, but it still hurts.
“What the fuck, Mondello? Didn’t think I was wounded enough?” I yell at him.
“Oh, I just needed to motivate Captain Leeds,” Mondello says. “They can get so confused when they are fresh. That bit of humanity that still lingers in the synapses.”
“What the hell are you…talking…about…?” I say then look closely at Leeds.
His head was hanging down, but as soon as the crossbow bolt hits the gravel, it snaps up. His grey eyes lock onto the bolt then he starts to sniff the air. I look at the stain of blood on my shoulder then back at Leeds. His grey eyes are on me.
His dead, grey eyes.
“No, no, no,” I whisper. “Please no. Why? Why him?” I begin to shake, a fury like I’ve never felt before growing in me.
“YOU FUCKS!” I scream. “YOU CRAZY FUCKS! NOT HIM! HE WAS THE GOOD GUY!” My chest hitches as I struggle to get control of myself. “He was my friend…”
And my friend is hungry. For me.
Leeds sprints towards me. He doesn’t shamble or shuffle, but sprints. I guess that’s what happens when a trained soldier is freshly turned. His body hasn’t had a chance to atrophy and rigor mortis hasn’t damaged the muscles
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