Chapter 17: Cage Match

Ash stared at the wild face of Smiles. This was the second time he had to face this bellicose old man. This time, however, Ash felt more confident. When he first loaded into Psychontech’s The Wasteland, he didn't expect to be launched into the middle of a bar fight. Ash had never been in a fight before, never made anyone angry enough to fight him. Things had changed.

Ash paced around the holding cell, keeping his eyes on Smiles. He traced a circle within the barred enclosure, letting his left foot cross over his right and his right over his left. Since their last confrontation, Ash had shot and killed a pronghorn deer, shot and killed an armed gang member, dodged blades from a pair of tattooed women, and even been caught in a street fight. He touched the sore mark on his face. Micah had left a nasty bruise. The purple around his eye socket continued to darken, but he knew within a few more days, it would become a sickly green. Still, it was a mark of experience.

Ash ignored the crowd of guards on the other side of the barred cell. When he fought Micah, the crowds were loud and rowdy, and Ash had no desire to fight. He was frightened. He was scared that the mighty baker’s son, a man taller than him, wider than him, more muscular than him, was going to kill him. Smiles, on the other hand, looked like a haggard man who had withered in size since their last confrontation.

Ash was not scared. He was ready to fight.

Smiles slapped himself in the face in order to induce greater battle-fury. His mouth already foamed, just as it had within the first hour of playing this game. Smiles stalked the circle like a crazed wolf, waiting for the slightest opportunity to lose himself.

Ash eyed the wound in Smiles’ neck. ‘I did that,’ he thought. ‘I nearly killed this man once before, and, if I have to, I’ll do it for real.’ Ash could feel his heart beat in his chest. He could feel the nervousness, but nerves did not mean fear. Violence was no longer unknown to him. The Wasteland began to mark him as its own. Ash’s lips pulled into a slight grin. ‘When I level up, I’m going to need to put a few points into unarmed.’

After a full rotation within the cell, Smiles had enough. With a roar, he closed the distance between them. Ash, instead of trying to catch and fight his foe, stepped out of the wild man’s charge with the grace of a bullfighter. He grabbed the torn shirt of his opponent and swung him around in a small circle.

Smiles broke free of the young man’s grip. He yanked his shirt back into place and shot a fist to Ash’s head.

[Agility Check Passed]

Ash ducked the blow and, bending lower, threw two body shots into Smiles’ stomach. Smiles staggered back and charged once more, a flying fist hitting Ash in the same place Micah had. While the hit stung, Ash brought his arms in front of his face and absorbed the other headshots Smiles tried launching. Blow after blow, Ash protected his head with his forearms.

“That’s the spirit!” one of the guards shouted.

Ash felt heartened by the comment. The speed of the attacks slowed slightly, and Ash peeked from behind his protective arm. As he dropped one of his forearms, he did so at a bad moment. Smiles took the opening and hit Ash square in the nose. Blood began to pour from his nostrils.

“First blood!” Smiles shouted in the holding cells. A few of the soldiers hooted and hollered. The female soldier said nothing. She observed the fight with a completely neutral face, her arms crossed over her chest.

Ash swiped the side of his nose with his hand. Blood coated the top of his hand. He tried cleaning a little more from his face, feeling the blood trickle over his lips. He licked them and tasted iron.

“Let’s go, boy!” Smiles adjusted his stance. His combat madness slowed into a more thoughtful trance. This time, the old man waited for Ash to strike. Ash took the prompt. He wanted to start this round. Bouncing on the toes of his feet, Ash closed the gap. Smiles took a wild swipe, but Ash remained out of reach. Ash bounced a little forward, knocking another flying fist with a gentle swat.

Ash stepped forward and immediately back. The feint drew Smiles close enough for Ash to step back into combat. This time, instead of throwing a fist, he brought his knee into the old man’s ribs. Ash thought he heard a crack. Smiles stumbled to the ground, but Ash continued his assault. Punch after punch, he struck the old man around the face and neck.

‘Enough,’ Ash thought. He moved to the other side of the holding cell. He knew he was a man and not a vicious beast. He refused to continue the beatdown when his opponent lacked the position to fight back. ‘An act of mercy.’

Smiles struggled back to his feet. One hand descended to his rib cage, cradling his injury.

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“There’s the spunk I know.” Smiles flashed his teeth. Blood decorated the grooves between them. Smiles began to bounce in place. “Yes!” he shouted. “Yes! Yes!”

Smiles moved closer and closer. The vigor of his body increasing after his injuries rather than slowing him down.

[Unarmed Check Failed]

Ash threw one of his hands into the air to block another face blow, but the strike was a feint. Smiles had tricked him. Before he had time to react, Ash felt a punch bury itself into his stomach. Ash dropped his hands low, only to feel a strike at his face. Smiles played with him, throwing punch after punch, sometimes real, sometimes false. It seemed Ash could only block or react to the false moves, suffering real blow after real blow. The flurry of hits drove Ash against the walls of the holding cell, squirming against his confines. His shoulder found the bar. Ash realized he was in a corner. Punches continued to flow from the old man, although he seemed to grow tired.

Ash, looking for a respite, dropped his guard and grappled around the old man’s shoulders, one hand finding its way to his neck. Ash felt the puckered wound he had made with a pool cue and pressed into the healing hole. Smiles roared with agony and struggled to break free of Ash’s grip.

He let the old man get away, pushing him against the bars of the cell. Smiles used one hand to press over his reopened scar and another on the iron bars to hold himself upright.

Ash took a deep breath. He felt exhausted. This match had been his longest in prolonged combat. Most of the fatigue, however, was mental. Casper had seven points allocated to Endurance. Ash’s body could give and take a lot more punishment. Only his mind held him back.

Ash felt confident. He could finish this match in the next bout. He was tired. He was hurting. But he felt good. Ash put his fists in front of himself. ‘This round will be the last,’ he thought. ‘I’m going to finish it no matter what. No mercy this time.’

He watched as Smiles steadied himself against the iron bars. The old man coughed a little. Ash watched the old man’s chest heave with a mighty breath, a breath to unleash the most noisome roar, but as the old man began his charge, Ash noticed movement along the ground.

Kiara, kneeling behind the bars, had reached between them and grabbed the old man’s ankles. As Smiles charged, his explosive power, rather than shooting straight for Ash, fell straight into the ground. Ash did nothing but watch the old man strike face-first into the concrete floor of the holding cell.

With a sharp crack, the old man lay sprawled on the floor, unmoving.

“What are you doing!” Ash yelled at Kiara. “I had that!”

“You did not!” Kiara shouted as the soldiers pulled her back to her feet. She struggled in their grips.

“Interference!” one of the soldiers shouted.

“The kid had him!” another one said.

The guards broke into a cacophony of comments and complaints. “Are you kidding me? The old wolf was ready to lay the whelp into the ground.”

“Are you blind?”

“Are you stupid?” a fourth soldier joined in.

The female soldier lifted her hand into the air. “Enough!” she yelled.

Everyone settled into a quick silence.

“Not the best entertainment, but enjoyable nevertheless.”

A few of the soldiers nodded in agreement.

“Who wants to see these two fight now?” The female soldier took Kiara by the arm and jostled her forward. The soldier with the cell keys opened the gate and pushed Kiara back into it.

“I’m not fighting him,” Kiara said defiantly.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna fight her,” Ash said.

“Well, we’ll see about that,” the female soldier said. She pulled back a sleeve and checked her watch. “Your friend still has seventeen hours. After this display, I think it might be a little fun to commute your collective executions into a gladiator match. Only one of you needs to die.”

Ash swallowed hard. He had no desire to fight Kiara, let alone to the death. Still, Kiara wasn’t real. He was. He tried to harden his heart. If he had to kill her, he would. It would be for his own survival.

“Consider it an act of kindness,” she said, looking at the body of the old man on the floor.

Kiara and Ash looked at the body sharing their close quarters. Ash crouched down to check his vitals. He pressed his fingers against Smiles’ throat, feeling a very slight pulse.

“He’s still alive,” Ash said. “Barely.”

“If he doesn’t die, I’ll simply have him executed before your match. He’s not the man I knew.”

“You knew him?” Ash asked, looking from the ground.

The female soldier flashed a small grin before suppressing it. She turned to her soldiers. “Enough loitering! Get back to your posts.”

The crowd dispersed from around the holding cell. She alone stayed.

“What are you looking at?” Kiara snapped.

The female guard said nothing. She turned on the heels of her boots and walked out of view.

“What should we do?” Ash asked, pointing at Smiles’ unconscious body.

“Leave him. It might do more harm trying to move his body than not.” Kiara went to the bench and sat down, rubbing her kneecaps with her fingers.

Ash felt his stomach grumble. After thirty-one hours, his stomach began to gnaw on itself. Smoking the cigarettes could only suppress their hunger for so long. Their rations of water did little to abate the feeling of emptiness in their stomachs.

“Are you hungry at all?” Ash asked, trying to make chit-chat.

“Don’t talk about food to me.”

“I just wanted to talk.”

“Don’t.”

“Are you worried about Lewis? He’ll show up. I know it.”

“Why do you have so much faith in him? Everyone I’ve trusted has turned on me in the end.”

“Even your father and your sister.”

“Don’t!” Kiara fumed. “I trusted the two of you because you saved my hide back at the gas station. You guys seemed different than the others, had a different creed. He paid for lodgings, paid for food. Gave me something to be excited about. But he’s just like the others.”

“Lewis will come back for us!” Ash said, more defensively than he intended.

“Of course, I will.”

Ash and Kiara looked from the floor. Sander stood at the front of their holding cell. A soldier unlocked the gate, waiting for the two to leave.

“I had to sell one of the motorcycles, but I got the funds,” Sander said cheerfully. “Oh, and I managed to find us a few jobs so we can restore our strength.” His eyes glanced at the old man slumped in the middle of the cell.

“Casper kicked his butt,” Kiara answered an unspoken question.

“That-a-boy!” Sander exclaimed.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Ash said, stepping over Smiles. “And get something to eat.”