Page 48 of Faithless
Their fight had gone down mere feet in front of our VIP box, blocking our view of the rest of the pit. When the Animal and the underdog moved their fight along, it seemed we’d missed some other action.
The Hatchet was now kneeling in the center of the pit, with one of his own axes held against his throat by the other Maggot. As the other two fighters came closer, the man holding the Hatchet hostage said something to the Animal. It looked like a threat, ado-something-or-he-dieskind of command.
The Animal just threw his head back and laughed. “We’re all destined to die, you fucking worm! Kill him! Cut his throat with his own weapon! He won’t hesitate to do the same to you.”
That moment of distraction was enough for the Animal’s opponent to finish the job. He thrust his sword through the back of the veteran gladiator’s neck before he could say anything else. The Animal made a gurgling sound as blood poured from his neck, running down his chest to mix with the blood from the wound in his gut.
You could hear a pin drop in the colosseum as the Animal fell to his knees and then face-planted dead on the ground. Only after he fell did an uproar carry throughout the audience. They were an angry, yelling mass shouting and gesturing at the fighters below.
“Bet some folks just lost a lot of money,” Torr said.
The Hatchet tried taking advantage of the upset by the Animal’s death. He grabbed his captor’s forearm, trying to wrestle the ax back into his own possession, but the other man caught on. The Maggot wrenched his arm free and this time did not hesitate.
He buried the ax blade under the Hatchet’s chin, and pulled it across, releasing a river of blood. He must have gone deep, because the Hatchet died much quicker than the Animal.
The two men who had appeared to be on the same team now stared at each other across the sand.
“What happens now?” I asked. “Did they win?”
A new energy took over the crowd, starting as a low murmur but quickly taking over the whole colosseum. I even saw other resort guests in their VIP boxes standing up and pumping their fists. Within moments, a new chant emerged.
My blood ran cold as the horrific realization seeped in.
“There’s no ‘they’,” Torr confirmed with a bitter shake of his head. “At the end of a fight, there can only be one man standing.”
“Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!”
18
SANTOS
Icould only give a sad shake of my head from the sidelines. The baby gladiators, Maggots, as they’d been called, looked horrified at the realization of what they had to do. They’d stuck together since being shipped to this hellhole. Now one would have to kill the other.
If they refused, more fighters would be released onto the sands. One man standing was the only rule.
“I tried to warn ‘em,” the Ghost, Devin, said with a regretful tone. “After training yesterday morning, I pulled Animal’s killer aside and told him not to look too cozy with his boys.”
“They never listen,” I muttered. “They have to learn the hard way, like we all do.”
It still wasn’t easy to see. Part of, if not all, of your humanity was lost the moment you killed someone you once considered a friend. Even an acquaintance. Some of the kills that got to me the worst were the guys I had sparred with or just talked football with for a sense of normalcy. That was the main reason Devin and I acted like strangers in front of everyone’s eyes. We likely wouldn’t be able to bear standing across the sand from each other like these two were.
Both of the Maggots just looked at each other, not moving, until the crowd got bored and started throwing shit again.
“Glad I’m not going out there today.” Devin started flipping one of the many hidden knives he kept on him. “At least the Animal’s dead. Sick fucker.”
I grunted out an agreement, though the bastard’s death wasn’t all good news. He’d been a favored fighter for the gamblers and had been something of a cult leader among the gladiators. Not that he had any leadership skills to speak of,he was just big, mean, and a fucking ruthless killer. People didn’t want their skulls bashed in when he was in a foul mood, so they kissed his ass. His death created a power vacuum among his minions, and they’d be squabbling to take his place.
The seasoned gamblers would also be taking a huge loss. Even against four Maggots and the Hatchet, the odds had been highly skewed in the Animal’s favor. Now that precarious balance had been upset by a scrawny dude with a sunburn.
The dude could fight though, and he had my respect for that. But it was his first time on the sands, and he’d have to prove himself time and time again.
“Ooh, they’re arguing.” Devin sounded like he was watching a TV drama.
I crossed my arms, scratching the stubble on my jaw as I watched. The two guys were circling closer to each other, both of them red-faced with anger as they shouted. The Animal’s killer was repeating something like, “You ran! We were supposed to hold tight, but you ran and got them killed!” The sword was in a loose hold at his side, but his opponent clung tighter to the axes in each of his hands as he shouted arguments back.
The whole colosseum seemed to wait with bated breath, not daring to look away and miss who would strike first. In the end, it was the Hatchet’s killer who raised his weapons against his friend.
The Animal’s killer brought his sword up to block the attack. Metal sang as axes and sword clashed. Then there was a crunch and an “Oof!” as the Animal’s killer drove his elbow into his friend’s nose.
