“Keep looking for him.”
I skimmed the stands, but could not make him out amidst the crowds. He might well be there, tucked away under a baseball cap…or maybe he wasn’t there at all. What if he’d been caught? What if he couldn’t bring his gun?
“Opponents!” the announcer crowed. “Claim your rewards!”
The survivors looked toward our side of the arena. A couple of soldiers had marched themselves out of the dugout, and they held out sticks—no, swords—oh, how nice, weapons for the combatants. The girl took a step back. The boy swung around and tried to sprint toward the soldiers, and instead ran straight into the hungry arms of a zombie. Even from my spot behind the wall I could see blood fountaining out of his throat.
He went down screaming, attracting the remaining ghouls to him.
The girl paused to see if the dead were occupied. Then she zipped right over to the soldiers, accepting the bladed weapon shoved into her hand.
She lifted it into the air. The crowd went ballistic.
“Game on!” the announcer exclaimed.
I guess I could have cheered for her. It would have been polite.
She didn’t go dashing off into the group of ghouls, though. She instead was offered a bottle of water, and followed the soldiers into the doorway in the wall.
“Where’s she going?” I asked.
“Bathroom break,” Renati said. He rubbed his knuckles, then cracked them.
“What a performance! One for the ages!”
I hoped Logan shot the announcer first.
“Lara Lexington will be your round one champion! And now, my friends, before we begin the next round, I have a little story for you.”
He knew when to pause for effect, I’ll give him that. The crowd quieted.
“Once upon a time, there were some fellows who thought the endtimes should be welcomed. That the dead should inherit the earth!”
Scattered booing broke out.
“They conspired to bring down the barriers that keep this city safe!” the announcer hollered.
The booing increased. They couldn’t possibly believe all this, right? Despite Keller’s best efforts, Hastings was hardly Rome, and you couldn’t turn average American citizens into bloodthirsty spectators in just a few months…could you?
“What is this?” I whispered.
“Not so different from that wrestling stuff,” Renati said. “A bit bloodier. Fewer structured storylines.”
I seized that thought and clung to it. Maybe they all thought this was staged.
Where the hell was Logan?
“Fortunately they were caught by Captain Keller and his men—just before they could let the living dead overrun the city!”
The booing gave way to wild cheers. Oh, holy guacamole, this was bad.
“How can they believe this?” I whispered. “They’re just…believing it…”
“What else would you have them do? They haven’t been outside. They don’t know what it’s like. They’re safe here.” Renati turned to me. “They have no reason not to believe Keller.”
I spotted movement to our right. Two people came out of the home team dugout.
I stood up. Renati grabbed my arm and jerked me back down. “Don’t. React.”
My heart thumped wildly against my ribcage. Tony and Dax stopped just outside the dugout and had to be shoved forward by the soldiers guarding it.
“At least they gave them swords,” Renati said. “Wait. It looks like Dax has an axe.”
“They don’t know how to use either of those things,” I whispered through a dry mouth. “I mean. I don’t think they do. There isn’t an Eagle Scout badge for disemboweling your enemies, is there? Where the fuck is Logan?”
He didn’t answer.
Our plan—our shitty, shitty plan—was about to fail before it even began.
Renati took my hand. “They can handle a few zombies,” he said.
Another door opened in the wall opposite us. The place must have been riddled with ways to get in and out—what better way to craft dramatic entries and exits?
After a few seconds, several figures came staggering out.
The crowd quieted.
“Oh, my goodness!” the announcer exclaimed. “This is exciting! Behold! Keller has harnessed the power of the undead!”
The revenants waved their hands around. More bladed weapons tied or grafted on to dead limbs. Sure—that was harnessing the power of the undead. Why not?
I searched the stands once more for Logan.
He wasn’t there.
Chapter Twenty-Six
If you’ve never seen a zombie with a sword, you’re missing out.
I don’t think you should recreate it on your own, of course. If you want to see it at a zoo or something, that’s on you. I could see where it would be kind of amusing, provided it was viewed from a safe distance.
Even Holy Ezekiel, the dead Mennonite himself, would probably think this was too much.