Page 18 of Once Upon an Apocalypse

“Stealing rations from the Praetorian Quartam.”

Two guards enter uninvited, one grabbing my arm, the other guard grabbing Jonah’s. There’s no chance for apologies. No trial. Just punishment. That means we are being taken to the Colosseum. I don’t put up a fight knowing I need to conserve my energy for whatever awaits us in Doctore’s arena.

We are ushered into an elevator which brings us up to the surface. My eyes strain at the harsh light burning down from a cloudless sky. I haven’t been outside since the day these assholes kidnapped me. For over a year I’ve been kept inside the bunker where there are no windows to the outside, only dim fluorescent lighting.

The guards throw Jonah and me unceremoniously into a black SUV. Once the doors slam shut, the vehicle lurches forward.

A few minutes later, we arrive at the Colosseum. It’s not what I imagined, but exactly how it was described to me. A high school football stadium. The exterior walls have been fortified, though I’m not sure if that is meant to keep things from getting inside or staying inside.

We pull up next to the fortified walls and a beat later, two armed guards open the car doors and pull me and Jonah out. The both of us go willingly enough that the force is completely unnecessary. But I get it. Show of strength.

Looking closer at the fortification, it looks like a complete addition on the side of the stadium. When we walk inside, I understand why. This is an armory. A gladiatorial armory. On the other side is a walkway that likely leads directly onto the arena floor, just like the real Colosseum.

Jonah’s hand wraps around mine, making me realize how badly I’m trembling. He doesn’t risk pulling me into a hug while the guards keep watch, just a quick squeeze to my hand. I can’t look at him. I can’t acknowledge that he is okay with this. Punishment. Because I stole some bread to feed hungry children. Because Jonah wanted a night alone with me. His girlfriend. Doctore’s property.

My bones rattle from the force of my trembling body. But it’s not just fear coursing through me. It’s anger. I feel like I could rip Doctore from limb to limb with my bare hands. This is the strength I hold on to as one of the guards tells us to pick a weapon for the arena. I grab a mace. It helped me in that cement box. It will help me again. Holding it in my hands emboldens me, making me feel stronger.Fight. Survive. Live.

The guards escort Jonah and me through the walkway. As I had thought, it’s a tunnel that leads out into the football field. Once my feet touch the gritty sand of this new arena, the doors close behind us with a loud bang. The stands are filled with living people, cheering to be entertained by witnessing death and dismemberment.

I think of the cement box where I defeated five zombies. I can do this. I will kill anything that Doctore throws at me. Then I think of Jonah. He’s strong. He can fight. But what if he gets bitten? I can’t let that happen. He’s all I have at the bunker. I don’t want to be alone.

The crowd quiets as Doctore begins his announcement. Jonah and I take a stance in the middle of the field–or rather, the arena.

“As many of you know, I have been developing a cure to the virus which has caused the end of civilization as we knew it. Through my research and experimentations, I have created something better. A gladiator.”

Oohs and ahs drift across the stands at Doctore’s words as he continues. “The girl you see before you is immune to bites. Perhaps another time I will give you all that demonstration, but for now, it is punishment she and her companion are in the arena for. They will fight to the death. Only one of them may leave this arena with breath in their lungs.”

“No,” I say aloud. Then louder, “No!”

I turn toward Jonah whose face is ashen with fear and tormented with agony. Acting on instinct, I drop my mace and close the distance between us with a few steps. Before he can react, I grab his hand–the one gripping a large hunting knife–and plunge it into my heart.

“Lori!” Jonah shouts. He tries to pull my hand from my death-grip but I won’t let go. Then I’m falling to the ground, bringing Jonah with me. He cradles my head as blood seeps through my gray shirt.

We stare at each other, neither of us able to come up with anything to say. What is there to say? I will heal. That’s my theory at least. But I won’t let Jonah remove the blade from my chest. Doctore won’t let Jonah live if I’m breathing, so I have to die. Temporarily.

A large shadow cascades down on us. When I look up, Doctore looks happy even though the crowd is booing and calling for more action. He moves his gaze to Jonah and demands, “Remove the blade.”

Jonah grabs the handle of the knife, pulling it out of my chest with no effort. I’m too weak to stop him. When I look at his face, I notice a tear escaping from his right eye.

“Now stab her again,” Doctore says as if he’s just asked for extra hot fudge on his ice cream sundae.

I try to lock eyes with Jonah, but he looks away from my face, raising the knife in his shaking hands. I don’t look away when the blade pierces my skin. It takes everything in me to not let out a scream. Not from the physical pain, but because my boyfriend, a guy I thought I loved, stabbed me. All because Doctore told him to.

“Again,” Doctore says. “Again. Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

A scream shatters the silent awe of the crowd. But it isn’t my scream. It’s Jonah’s scream as he stabs me over and over. I lose feeling after counting to twelve.

Chapter 13

Twoyearsgoby.I play by the rules. I give my own rations to the hungry children instead of stealing extras from the cafeteria. I keep my thoughts to myself. Jonah and I only spend time together when we are given permission. And yet I’m still forced to fight in the Colosseum. Not as punishment. I’m the main attraction now. Doctore’s favorite gladiator. Well, the only one.

Maybe it was all a trap set by Doctore. My first appearance at the Colosseum. Putting me against Jonah. A test to see where my allegiance lies; to myself or Jonah. I chose to save Jonah because he’s all I have left in this world, even if he isn’t the same boy I fell in love with.

Doesn’t really matter if it was a test. Every few months, I’m whisked away to the surface to fight hordes of zombies at the behest of entertaining Doctore and his minions while Jonah is back on track to becoming a legatus.

Sometimes Doctore throws in non-infected humans who’ve broken the rules in his empire. I’m forced to kill them when they are given a weapon to fight against me for their lives. It is my life or theirs. Unlike with Jonah, I’ve always chosen my own survival.Fight. Survive. Live.

Each fight is a test. Doctore is constantly testing my strength, my stamina, and how quickly I can heal from each wound. I’ve learned a lot from these fights too. That I’m fast. That I heal incredibly quickly, even when dealt fatal blows. And I’m strong. Maybe not super hero strength strong, but stronger than I ever thought I was, considering I don’t lift weights in the gym like Jonah does.

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