Indian Hill (24 page)
“I think he’s coming to!” I heard from a galaxy far, far away.
“Someone get a wet cloth.” That galaxy didn’t sound so far away
as I had
thought.
“He’s opening his eyes,” a familiar voice said, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. I thought to myself, I hope my eyes aren’t open because I can’t see a thing. The world looked as if I was viewing it through an ace bandage. I could see shapes but no distinction whatsoever.
“I can’t see,” I mumbled weakly.
“And by the sound of it you can’t talk either.” A small laugh broke out among the women in the room but it felt more like relief than humor.
“We all thought that we were going to lose you,” a tender voice said. I could hear the strain in it.
The name Deb popped into my head long before I was able to associate it with the voice.
“How long?” was all I was able to mutter.
“You’ve been out for close to a month,” a voice unfamiliar to me said.
My face must have gone slack, but she still continued with the explanations even after seeing my disdain.
“Well dear sir, you got your lung punctured, and an artery to your heart was also nicked. The aliens are still in disbelief that you are alive. They are more than a little upset, by all of their scientific data you should have died the moment that your rib was broken.”
Well, that was all the information that I could handle for this month, I fell back asleep but not as deeply as before.
“Mike, can you hear me?” What a soothingly comforting and familiar voice I thought to myself. “I know it’s over between us.” I was about to reply but from her tone I was under the impression that she was talking more to herself than me; the fact that she thought I was sleeping did not deter her from her speech. “I know the comfort we brought each other was temporary. It was just our way of coping with this insanity and the stress. Only I didn’t know that I was going to fall in love with you. To be honest I didn’t even think that you were going to live past the first round I saw you in. And I think maybe that you had the same thoughts and maybe you felt it would be better to at least go out with a smile. But now I think you’re going to survive and I think that you also believe that you are going to make it through this nightmare. Nobody could’ve done what you’ve done so far. Granted your strategy has been superb, your stamina incredible, but ah my love, your luck has been…”
“Has been guided by the hand of God,” I rasped.
Deb gasped in amazement that I was awake. “You bastard, you let me go on and you were awake this whole time!” she yelled.
“Well, even us heroes need ego boosting every once in a while,” I murmured.
“You … you…” her face reddened with the prospect of using the appropriate terminology. Before she was able to find and use the sailor’s vernacular, I spoke.
“Deb, I love you.”
“But?” Wow, she did know me well.
“But Beth is and always will be my first love, and I think my soul mate. You were there at a time when I so desperately needed someone. You made me happy and kept me going especially when I didn’t think that I had anything left in me. But I truly feel that the end is drawing near, whether it is for my victory or my ultimate
end
. I can feel it in my bones; in my very soul I can feel it. And because of that I have to be true to Beth and myself. Being with you now would only be selfish.”
“I know,” she said softly. “But I’d rather have a small piece of you than no part at all.” She left the room before her watering eyes began to tear.
After a brief reprieve Tanya came in, more breathtakingly beautiful than I had remembered, but alas I had no time for such frivolous thoughts anymore.
“They have a fight slated for you two weeks from today,” she said bluntly.
“That’s just dandy, I can’t even leave this bed right now to take a whiz, but in two weeks I’ll be back in the arena fighting.”
Her entire demeanor reeked of concern. Although I know she cared for me I was under the impression that she was more concerned with her own well being than with mine. And that was completely understandable; I didn’t fault her for that at all.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m sure that I’ll be able to piss by myself in two weeks.”
She laughed and I laughed and damn it, it felt good. Up until the time my ribs said otherwise.
The aliens had held off on the ratings until they were sure that I was going to pull through. My survival was probably going to set off a shit storm, because a lot of contestants were more than likely studying the opponent they would next meet with me out of the picture. So they had in most cases wasted a month of studying time on an opponent they would not be facing. Thoughts of Beth filled my head constantly, life without her seemed incomplete. Debbie had become solemn and withdrawn over the last few days; unfortunately I couldn’t afford to be good company to her. I didn’t feel that I had the capacity for it.
No. 2, I thought to myself. Not bad, not bad at all. But with 74 other competitors left that meant that Durgan was going to get another bye, which meant the rest of us were going to do our best to kill each other while sustaining grievous injuries and he just kept getting stronger. Apparently God, or at least the aliens, didn’t like that scenario either. The aliens wanted to see the gruesome Durgan at work so they revoked his bye and were going to randomly assign it. I was under the suspicion that ‘random’ was too strong a word. These aliens probably had ties to the mob. I was convinced that my number wasn’t even included in the randomization process. And there it
was
, No. 13 got the bye. Well, on to the task at hand.
My next opponent, No. 74, Shawn Timmins,
Albert Timmins older brother
,
was one of those rare individuals that prove that you can’t judge a book by its cover. Especially when the cover weighed in excess of 360 pounds. He was about 5’10” or 5’11” and fat, not big and bulky, just plain fat like his brother. If I ever got off of this ship would I be able to go to the
Timmins
’ household and look their mother in the face? And tell her what, that her boys had died valiantly, at a stupid alien contrived event? Shawn was huge like his brother, but all similarities stopped there. He moved effortlessly and with a precision that a figure skater would
have
be
en
proud of. I had no clue how this incredible bulk of a man had made it this far. I watched all of his previous clashes and discovered that I was going to be truly saddened by killing him. He was one of the few contestants left that was worthy of living. By all accounts, he never let one of his competitors suffer needlessly, and it appeared that the women were relieved when he won. They obviously knew their fate with him would not end up with torture and death. However I might feel about him, I still had to look out for number one, or in this case No. 2. I deserved to live just as much as the next guy and I was not going to let those feelings disrupt my ultimate goal, which was to get off of this ship and give these aliens some payback. This man was blessed with a grace that belied his enormous size; he must have lulled all of his competition into a false sense of security. He had to have a lot of muscle mass to move that much weight around that fast. He, unlike me, did not make it to this level on luck alone. He was skilled, but I found a chink in his enormous mass. And I planned to exploit it for all it was worth, and in this case that meant his life. My competition was in two days and I did aerobic exercises almost that whole time, I had to regain some of my former strength. I said nothing more than the precursory niceties to the girls. Deb had withdrawn from our makeshift family, she did little more than eat and sleep. I felt concern but it was buried deep, it was more like a back burner type of concern; if I wasn’t actually looking at her I didn’t think about it at all. By the time my front door dematerialized I was able to, as promised, take a piss on my own. Also, due to the expert care of our hosts, I felt almost 70 to 75 percent back to my normal self.. Not as high as I would have liked it to be, but a lot better than dead, I reckon
ed
. For once I actual entered the arena with no fear, whether it was pure folly or total confidence, I’m not sure. It finally felt good to not want to heave at the beginning of a bout, but the flip side of that was I was about to kill a man and I was not concerned about that little tidbit at all. I was saddened at the prospect of never again being that boy who had come onto this ship. Would my own mom even recognize me? I seriously doubted it.
The battlefield this time was a mockup of a department store. It looked just like Wal-Mart, there was a produce section off to the right, sporting goods straight ahead, a row of registers to the left. Sporting goods, huh! What are the odds they’d have rifles there? I didn’t think that would happen but it might be worth a jaunt down that aisle to check it out. First I grabbed a spear and then I strode up one of the aisles. Much to my chagrin everything was merely a mirage, unlike previous scenarios all of the goods in this store were nothing more than smoke and mirrors. The floor and the shelving felt real enough but if you tried to pick up a bottle of Wisk your hand would pass right through it. So even their computers had limitations. It was good to know that this opponent was not omnipotent. Well, so much for a rifle, I might as well go to the task at hand. And there he was, entering the same aisle that I was in. We had about twenty-five yards of distance to close on each other before we clashed. Alright, time to put Plan A into effect. This had better work because there was no Plan B. Mr. Timmins seemed pleased that I was headed straight for him, apparently looking at him gave people the misinformed notion that he could in no way move his bulk quickly enough to strike or even repel an attack. I picked up my pace a little and brought the spear up over my head and threw it for all it was worth. Well, I’m not Swahili and he was fast. He dodged it with little to no effort whatsoever. I stood for a second as if dumbfounded. I let him go on the offensive, something I knew that he was not used to but would do if the cards favored it. He ran at me, sword upraised. I stayed as long as I dared, he moved fast, faster than he even looked on the tapes. I heard, hell, I
felt
the tip of the sword as it cut a six inch swath through the back of my shirt as I hauled ass away. Smelling fear and blood he chased me. I made sure to stay close enough so that he wouldn’t give up the chase but far enough so that I didn’t become his next victim.
M
y legs burned, it had been a long time since I had sprinted; my lungs ached for air. But I could hear
Timmins
laboring, he sounded like a bulldog on a 95-degree day. He was panting and snorting and I bet if I had big enough balls to turn around he would have been drooling like one also. I could sense he was falling further and further behind. I sped up and then slowed when I felt the distance was right.
Timmins
was hunched over with his hands on his knees breathing for all he was worth; catching his breath was becoming an exercise in futility. Well, time to up the ante. I sprinted to the end of the aisle and cut up the next one running for all I was worth and circled back to the far end where I had first spotted him. Poor bastard, he was still hunched over gasping for air. I halved the fifty yards in eight or nine seconds, scooping up my spear as I ran. He was possumming! He stood, twirled and ran right at me at full sprint. I again chucked the spear at him but this time he was more like a charging bull than a dancing pony. I scored a par
tial hit; blood welled up from a
wound in his side but he never slowed. This time I had no time to feign surprise, my forward momentum had brought me to within inches of his sword. I did not have enough time to turn tail, I ducked down and dove to the right.
Timmins
’ bulk brought him another twenty feet before he was able to get his mass moving in another direction. I scrambled for a few feet on all fours, I wasn’t trying to look pretty I was just trying to escape. Every moment counted, he was again right on my ass. If he had a spear I would have been impaled a long time ago. My legs were throbbing, I had a stitch in my left side, but I was not going to slow down to resolve that problem. After another twenty-five to thirty yards of him pursuing me I could tell he was dropping off again. I felt confident enough to take a glance over my shoulder and yes, he had stopped and was once again hunched over hands on knees, but this time his shirt was soaked through. Sweat was dropping into his brow and off his chin. I would remember to be careful of the puddle he was making lest I slipped on that. I figured I had more time but I had no desire to prolong this, I once again grabbed my spear.
Timmins
lifted his head just enough to eyeball what I was doing. He knew, he eyed me and smiled.