12. Over Whose Dead Body?
12
Over Whose Dead Body?
T itan
My tongue not only got me into trouble, but it hurt Blaze. I’d just hoped… I don’t know what I’d hoped. That an above-average gladiator could change the galaxy? That my words would make people realize one person owning another is wrong? It’s like pissing into the wind.
I crouch next to Blaze, waiting to give her a hand up. Not that she needs it—or wants it. She’s probably pissed at me. That shock had to be at least a four, maybe a five. And she’s so tiny. I wonder if the shocks hurt her small frame more than they hurt me.
“We’re fucked,” she says through a raspy throat.
“What?” I don’t know why I ask. We’re in the middle of a bombed-out desert with no food or water, and all we have to look forward to is fighting enemies until we die.
“Look at the tote board.” She motions with her chin.
I watch it scroll. We’re down to 26 contestants. Contestants, that’s an odd word. A contest should be fun. This is life and death. Then I see what she was referring to—neither of us have any credits. No credits mean no food, no water, and certainly no weapons.
“One more minute,” she says as she massages under her slave collar. Then she gets to her feet, pointedly ignoring my offer to help her.
A lizard scurries across the path a few feet from us. I give it no thought, but Blaze is fascinated. She doesn’t tear her gaze from it. Is she afraid? Is it possible a female who demanded to go into battle against three armed seven-foot Halckons fears a little red lizard?
She must not be afraid of it, she’s following it.
“We need to head north,” I say.
“Actually, we need water,” she replies as she follows the reptile.
Did I not lay down strict rules last night before we left the holding area? I told her she needed to follow me. Now half the galaxy is watching me follow her like a small canine as she strays from the path.
The terrain dips down into a gulley. As soon as we crest the ridge, I see a narrow stream snaking through a marsh below. It’s interesting how you’d never see this from the barren wasteland up above, but it’s lush.
“Halt!” I tell her as she picks her way through the yellow scrub bushes.
She stops and straightens her back as she turns to me, eyes wide. Perhaps she thinks we’re being attacked.
“We’re not the only animals who will be getting a drink here,” I say as I approach her.
She has the sword firmly in her grip. I have the spiked bat. We make our way to the water with no other problems.
“Well, who’s the guinea pig?” she asks, her gaze flicking between me and the stream.
“What?”
“Who drinks and possibly gets poisoned?” she asks as she continues to scan the landscape.
I point to a little mammal about thirty feet downstream, leaning to take a drink. “That’s the ginn-ee-peeg,” I say.
The moment she realizes the stream is safe, she limps to it, kneels, cups her hands, and brings water to her mouth. She gulps greedily, two, then three, then four handfuls of it. After pulling off the shirt she’d wrapped around her head, she dips it into the water and then stands.
“Your turn.”
While I was drinking my fill, she must have taken off her shirt, because when I turn around, she’s wearing just her bra and is wiping herself with the wet cloth.
“It must be a hundred, maybe a hundred and twenty out here,” she says as she squeezes the last drops of water out of the fabric onto her face.
I’m glad I stole that Halckon’s pants, because my cock is hardening as I watch the droplets shimmer in the sunlight as they snake down her upturned cheeks.
It’s funny how fast the mind can think. In the span of two seconds, I envision an entirely different life than the one I’m living. I see myself stalking over, tossing the wet shirt onto a bush, and then folding Blaze into my arms.
I lick one of the glinting rivulets from where a drop trembles on her jawline, threatening to fall off. Tracing its path up the soft curve of her cheek, I stop when my tongue hits her hairline. She giggles and slaps me away in a manner that beckons me to continue.
My mind is brilliant. In my imagination, it’s equipped me with a thick blanket we’ve already laid at the water’s edge. It takes no effort for me to carry Blaze there, rip off her black bra, and set her down.
My body must not be able to tell the difference between fantasy and reality, because my cock acts like I have her in my arms. In my mind, the sweet smell of the tiny scarlet flowers near the water has become Blaze’s scent.
My palms have no idea they’re not actually sliding down her damp flesh. It’s as if they’re holding the scant weight of her breasts. My mouth aches to take possession of her again, like I did last night.
I snap back to reality when I hear her admonition echoing in my ears—that we weren’t to even speak about what happened in that bombed-out building last night.
She returns to the water’s edge and drinks her fill again, then wets the extra shirt, lifts her long brown hair, and wipes the back of her neck.
My cock is hard as polished stone, kicking against the front of my pants. I take one more moment to drink in the sight of her as she stands tall, wrapping the damp shirt around her head to keep the sun out of her eyes.
The gods are fickle—if there are gods. Maybe my friend Rencelus was right. Perhaps they don’t favor you if you don’t pray to them well or often enough. I told him that any god who needed praise wasn’t worth praying to. Maybe I was wrong. Because certainly the gods are punishing me.
If being abducted at age fifteen and forced to fight to the death wasn’t harsh enough, then being put into this game with 99 to1 odds should have been a clear message. And to put Blaze into The Game with me? For me to develop an attachment to a female for the first time in my life and then be pitted against her? The gods don’t just have weak egos, they’re downright cruel.
Her head is wrapped in that ridiculous rag that would look like shit on anyone else in the galaxy, but somehow makes her look more beautiful. She glances at me out of the corner of her eye, then gives me her full attention.
“Want me to show you how to do this?” She motions to her head. “It felt great to wipe off the dust.”
“It would be put to better use if we laid it on the ground so you wouldn’t get scratched by brambles when I sheathe myself in you.” My tongue got me into trouble for the second time in an hour. Zedd was right when she said I don’t have the brains of a rock.
Instead of scolding me or walking away, though, Blaze flashes me a naughty smile.
“If we’re still alive tonight, Titan, you and me and the entire planet can have an instant replay of last night.”
Blaze
I’ve lost my mind, but heck, what have I got to lose? If we make it to tonight, I deserve one more trip to paradise courtesy of my titanic friend and his gargantuan and talented cock. I like him far more than I should. Far more than is safe.
The little red six-legged gecko thing that led us to water is about a yard away. He must have already drunk his fill because he’s not drinking, he’s absorbed in looking at me. He’s standing perfectly still, not seeming to move except for slow blinks over enormous blue-slitted eyes.
“Hey, fella.” I’m an idiot, I know. We’re on a life and death mission and I’m taking time out of our busy schedule to chat up a lizard.
What do you know? He inches toward me.
“Come on,” I urge. He comes closer. Interesting how he moves with all six legs working at once.
I’m waiting for Titan to tramp closer or make a loud noise or poke fun at me, but when my gaze darts to him, I see he’s frozen, not wanting to spook the critter.
There’s something heart-clenchingly sweet about the huge gladiator allowing me to have this tender moment. I don’t know what the real tote board says, but he just went up a hundred points on my personal tote board.
I crouch down and keep crooning to the little thing. It’s maybe eight inches long and quite pretty. Its red scales are interspersed with tiny blue dots that match its expressive reptile eyes.
Finally, he comes over to me, stands on my boot, and looks at me. All of a sudden, I remember I’m on an alien planet. This little guy could suddenly morph into a fire-breathing dragon or open its mouth with a million wiggling teeth and eat me up. The fact that Titan is a few yards away, sword in hand, gives some comfort.
The deciding factor, though, is that the little guy crawls up my body and perches on my shoulder.
“Holy crap,” I say as I turn my head to look at him. He just seems to hold on with all six legs, giving me the go-ahead to get on with our trek.
When we take a few steps toward the incline we need to climb to get back to the path, my drone eases closer. One of the techies at the station must have noticed our little reptilian moment and thought the audience would enjoy it.
The screen on the drone still has me at zero points. Suddenly, I have a flash of inspiration so brilliant that if it works, it will be the smartest thing I’ve ever done.
“Look, honey,” I say loudly, pointing at the drone, which of course is also the camera. “It says I have zero points. How will we eat? How will we get water? How will we survive?”
The last time I performed in a play was in fourth grade when I played the part of a Native American during Thanksgiving. The reason I haven’t been in another production since then is that I have no talent. That doesn’t stop me, however, from putting on the performance of my life.
Looking straight at the camera, I say, “Did you all like watching Titan and me last night? Come here, honey.”
I look back at him and see he’s stripped off his shirt, soaked it in the cool water, and is using it to wash himself from his head to his waist. He shrugs his wet shirt back on, then jogs over so we’re in the same shot. Perfect.
“Scooch closer, babe,” I say as I slide my arm around his waist and pull him tighter. “How about we challenge the viewers at home?” As I flash them my best smile, I wonder if this is live or if we’re on a time delay.
“I promise.” I do the cross-my-heart motion that I’m certain none of the viewers are familiar with. “I promise that my handsome guy and I will give you all a show tonight. A better show.” I cup his crotch fondly and am unable to keep my mouth from flying open in surprise as my hand discovers he’s hard as the Statue of Liberty and almost as big.
“Oooh, see that, folks? He’s ready, willing, and able.” I wait and wait until the drone tips slightly. I assume it’s panning in on my partner’s junk. There you go. Let’s whet their salacious appetites.
Two can play. I pull my stretchy sports bra lower to show the smallest half-moon slivers of my brown areolae.
“We’ll give you a show. When you donate credits to me ,” I emphasize the word ‘me’ because if the credits are split, I won’t be able to afford the laser rifle I need to stay alive. “If you donate the credits to me, Slayer, I will do a striptease and if you want, I’ll ride the big guy tonight. Let me know if you want me shot from the front or the back. Hell, I’ll do both.”
I can practically hear the network execs stop counting their money long enough to sing hallelujah, yet I don’t see the tote board racking up a single point next to my name.
“When I get ten thousand credits and the laser rifle is in my hand, you’ll get your show.” I repeat that for good measure, so everyone gets the message. Those motherfuckers aren’t going to cheat me out of that rifle a second time.
Titan leans down and kisses me right on cue. I wonder if in addition to superhuman night vision this male possesses magic. I’ve never been so attracted to anyone before. Certainly not enough to forget the drones are filming our kiss. Not enough to ignore the subtle whirr of their motors as they move in for a closeup. Not enough that in front of half the planet I widen my stance and urge him to bend his knees so I can ride that iron monster hiding under his pants.
I break away, panting, so weak in the knees I’m gripping his forearms to make sure I don’t fall. Luckily, the little lizard scampered down when the drones came so close I thought their rotors might give me a haircut.
Leaning down, Titan nibbles a path from my mouth to my ear and then says, “When you offered to tear off your clothes for them, to fuck me in front of them for show, I thought you’d lost your mind. But you’re not crazy, Blaze, you’re brilliant. The network is too greedy to pass this up.
“Before they wiped all your credits, you had over ten thousand. Do you think that’s all the viewers pledged to you? They’d probably pledged hundreds of thousands, maybe millions. And all you were going to buy with that were a few overpriced trinkets.” His eyes are narrowed in anger at their greedy behavior.
“They won’t be able to pass this up, Slayer. They’re going to have to give you that rifle because you won’t perform without it. You just might—”
He stops abruptly, stands tall, and starts his way up the ravine.
He didn’t have to say it. We both know what he was thinking. If I earn that rifle, I just might win The Game . And he’s right. I might. And winning The Game means it will be over his dead body.