Chapter 18 #2
Other guards surrounded her, spears and knives pointed her way. She sank into a fighting stance. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted Niklas close by, his big body tense and ready to fight.
The Sapa called out, and reluctantly, the guards lowered their weapons. The Rumin leader shot Nera an inscrutable look. Then she waved her hand to the guards.
One guard stepped forward and dragged the body of his dead friend away. Another, rather warily, ushered all of them to a small area right above the pit. They were pushed to their knees on the dirt floor.
Niklas shifted until he was pressed close to Nera. “What do you think is going to happen?”
“Nothing good.” She eyed the energized crowd. “These people have survived a long time doing things their way. I don’t think they’re interested in what we have to offer, or in letting us go.”
He nodded, his gaze brooding.
The Sapa stood and clapped her hands. Nera stared at her.
The woman was really beautiful—with a round face, straight nose, and deep, dark eyes.
The old woman was standing behind her, swaying, an eager light in her eyes.
Two men joined the leader, sitting down on nearby piles of furs.
They, too, were handsome and well-built with strong jaws and thick, dark hair.
Niklas was studying them. “I bet that’s how they select their leaders. Those who are the least deformed, the most physically strong, healthy, and attractive.”
Nera raised a brow. “How you look has nothing to do with how smart you are, or if you’d make a good leader.”
“They may not believe that. They obviously see some pretty terrible birth defects, and a lot of their babies must not survive. To see one arrive in perfect condition…it must be special to them.”
Guards moved out of a neighboring tunnel, dragging a bound man between them. His head was hanging low, and his shoulders sagged.
In the crowd, a woman stood and cried out. She started yelling. She hugged a small girl with no arms to her ragged skirts.
The man lifted his head, looked at the woman and child, heartache etched on his face. Then the guard shoved him, and he stumbled over the edge into the sunken pit, sprawling onto his hands and knees in the dirt.
The woman started wailing and turned her daughter’s face away from the pit, pressing it into her skirts.
A second later, Nera heard the zombie. Four guards escorted the creature, working hard to keep it contained. They all held long poles, with vine-rope loops attached to the end. Each loop was around the zombie’s neck.
At the edge of the pit, they slashed the vines confining it away and then pushed it in.
“Oh, gods,” Avril gasped.
“This must be how they punish their lawbreakers,” Niklas said.
The man and zombie looked at each other. The man’s face was covered in fear and resignation. The zombie’s eyes lit with a wild hunger. It shambled forward.
The man fought. He had no weapon. No hope. But he fought. Nera hoped the little girl in the stands remembered that.
Soon, the zombie slashed into the man, blood splattering onto the sand floor. And then the fight was over.
The zombie crouched over the man’s dead body, biting into his belly, and making horrible noises as it feasted.
“It’s like the gladiatorial combats of very ancient Earth.” Niklas leaned closer, his fingers brushing Nera’s. “There are partial e-records of the Roman Empire. They forced gladiators to fight amongst themselves. The public loved to watch the gory spectacles.”
Apparently not much had changed over the millennia. At the less-civilized edge of the galaxy, there were pit-fighting worlds where fighters battled against each other to the death. “But they didn’t make them fight monsters.”
“Not zombies, no, but they did put people in the ring with wild animals.”
Suddenly, another man strode out of a tunnel. He was tall and muscled, and with no sign of a deformity. He wasn’t quite handsome, but an air of confidence radiated off him. The crowd cheered.
He looked up at the Sapa and bowed his head.
Then he leaped over the edge and into the pit.
Nera leaned forward, watching intently. This was no cowed prisoner. The man had no weapons, but he wore some primitive armor. Scarred leather plates on his arms, legs, chest, and abdomen. This was a warrior.
The zombie lifted its head, its bloodstained face turning to the man. It straightened, obviously sensing fresh prey.
It attacked so fast it made everyone gasp. Nera wondered if a fresh feed enhanced the zombie’s reflexes.
It didn’t matter, because the man was ready. He kicked the zombie, making it stumble, and then brought a vicious chop down on its back. It hit the dirt, and the man kicked it again. Then he circled the pit, calling to the crowd, pumping a fist into the air.
The crowd loved it, chanting what Nera guessed was his name.
She watched the zombie and man fight again. She noted where the man hit. He knew the zombie’s weaknesses. She saw the way the creature’s left arm dangled uselessly, and realized their joints were weak.
Not long later, the man came at the dazed zombie from behind. He gripped its head, and in a quick move, snapped the creature’s neck.
The zombie fell in the sand, still twitching.
From above, a guard dropped one of their large, polished knives down to the warrior. In one smooth move, the man beheaded the zombie, then raised the weapon above his head.
The crowd roared in delight.
The man leaped out of the pit and strode up the stands. When he reached the Sapa’s platform, he bent down on one knee in front of her, his head bowed.
She reached out and touched his head, then gestured him to the furs beside her.
As the man grinned and waved again at the crowd, he settled in beside the Sapa. Two people hurried over to give him food and drink.
“Niklas.” Nera leaned in close to him, savoring the warmth and strength of him. “The zombie, it had weak points.”
“Its joints. Go for the knees and elbows.”
Of course he’d noticed. “Yes. Disable it and you have a better chance of killing it.”
He nodded.
The Sapa called out and the guards moved over, walking along their line. Nera forced herself to cower, clutching Niklas’ arm. He frowned down at her, but that just helped her charade. The guards eyed her, talking to themselves.
They’d seen her kill their guard, but a man was very different from a zombie. And she hoped they were out for some revenge.
“Leave us alone,” Nera called out, making sure her voice wobbled. She felt the confused gazes of everyone in their group.
“Nera, no,” Niklas said.
A guard butted him with the end of a spear. The guards gesticulated to her and to each other, then one leaned down and yanked her up.
She let out a frightened cry. It sounded pretty darn good, she thought. She heard the crowd titter with excitement.
The guards shoved her to the edge of the pit, holding her teetering on the edge. Another zombie was marched in and set into the pit. She eyed it. It was a big one, a male. It circled the pit, stopping to investigate the bloodstains where the body of its fallen comrade had lain.
Nera glanced back at Niklas. His face was set in hard lines, his eyes a mix of anger and concern.
She winked at him, and he froze.
Then, with a hard shove, she was pushed into the pit.