The Duellist

She struggled to her feet, ducking back as the metal bar whirred through the air - felt it whistle past her face - punched him hard in the face, her long leg sweeping around to crash into the side of his head - he dropped. She grabbed his bar spinning to face the two new attackers.

A blow smashed into her head, clanging against the side of her helmet. Her vision faded, black creeping in at the edges. She felt the floor hit her hard in the side then a new pain as the bar struck at her body.

If she lay still she knew she would die.

She rolled, twisting sideways away from her attacker. More blows landed, drawing fire into her arms, her ribs, her thighs. Someone jumped on top of her, pinning her down, a second heavy weight landing on her legs even as the first struggled to pin her arms. She could hear their breathing, smell their rotten smell - more carrion than unwashed humanity.

Hands struggled with the straps of her helmet even as she futilely tried to twist free. They were done in no time, her helmet wrenched from her to leave her exposed. The cries around her were louder now, large numbers seeming to be closing on her.

Her attacker's hands closed on her cheeks forcing her head back, exposing her neck.

"Get the fuck off!" Screaming, desperately trying to buck him off. Felt fresh hands taking hers, pinning her down, fear flooding her body in a shaky adrenalin rush. More hands were fumbling at her armour, trying to get it free of her.

The man on her chest grinned, a remote approximation of a human expression, his rotten teeth filed to points, pressing his hands against her chestplate, where her breasts were hidden. Hands holding her head immobile, he opened his mouth wide, reaching for her neck. She flinched, struggling to pull her head free, his hands surprisingly strong, his grip like a vice on her cheek. Somewhere she could hear herself mewling, a pitiful sound choked with fear, her eyes twisted as far to the side as she could make them go, tracking his teeth's approach to her neck. She swallowed, her heels scrabbling helplessly for leverage under the weight of another assailant, the foetid breath of her attacker rank, disgusting, so close she could feel his breath on her skin.

His head exploded - brains and blood and tissue bursting upward in a macabre fountain - followed almost instantly by the boom of a duelling pistol, his lifeless body spinning away, dropping heavily to the floor.

She screamed, blood peppering her face. All at once her attackers flinched, releasing her in a mad rush to get clear. She shoved the dead body free, scrabbling out from under the weight, grabbing her assegai.

By this time Jay was already amongst them, his katana cutting one man down in a savage slash that opened his body like a melon, a second watching from a wary distance. All around them the cries reached a new crescendo, baying hungrily. Even as she spun about more figures emerged from the rapidly darkening ruins all about them. For a moment she was disorientated, looking for her helmet in the rubble.

"Niamh, leave it, this way..." Jay yelled, grabbing her hand when she made no immediate response. He dragged her a couple of paces before she woke up to her dilemma and put on a burst of speed alongside him.

"Fuck, Jay, you took long enough," she said, her breathing heavy, gasping, a weak relieved smile showing her gratitude through the blood staining her face.

"Yeah, next time I'll leave you there..." He broke the duelling pistol even as he ran, his breathing as laboured as hers, ejecting the spent cartridge, slotting in his one remaining round.

Two figures sprinted for them, coming from the darkness to their left, crude weapons raised above their heads, incoherent cries splitting the night. Niamh cut the first down, beating his bar aside and stabbing the haft mounted blade into his face, twisting so that his body slipped off the mound they were on. Jay took the second, his assailant's bar ringing hollowly against the katana's blade before Jay sliced his body open with a low cry. Even as they fell, more were emerging behind them.

"Shit," Niamh said. "What now?"

"The hotel," he said, pointing ahead. "If we can make it there, we may be able to defend the first floor staircase."

Niamh glanced at him, her eyes catching the last fading light. "Great, more running," she said, gasping for breath.

Together they stumbled and staggered down the rubble mountain, struggling to keep their feet. Behind them they could hear clear sounds of pursuit, feet scrabbling on the fallen masonry. Cries and calls were echoing from all around them now, barking and shrieking madly. Over it all a single word could be heard being repeated over and over again: "Kill!"

Eventually they staggered onto the open space before the hotel, holding on to each other as they shuffled barely faster than a walk towards it. Jay gasped for breath, his limbs were all burning, his chest felt wet - every breath threatening to break off into choking or coughing. With Niamh practically holding him up they fell into the cleared space inside the hotel, shuffling into the almost pitch black lobby.

At the door and windows behind them faces appeared, hands reaching in, figures climbing through the gaping apertures. Without light they picked their way tentatively back towards the staircase, both of them with their duelling pistols in hand, warily observing the figures as they crawled in behind them. There seemed to be at least a dozen, more faces appearing at the windows even as they counted. A slow, low chant was sweeping amongst them, rolling rhythmically over the two of them as they retreated: "Kill! Kill! Kill!"

"Jay..."

"Uh-huh."

"Don't let them take me," she said, glancing sideways at him. "If it all goes wrong, don't let them have me, okay. Promise me."

For a second he looked at her, met her eyes. He nodded, said, "Promise." He slid the duelling pistol back into its holster. She smiled her thanks.

With a last squeeze of her hand, he let her go, backing away to give himself room to use his katana. Niamh did likewise, freeing her assegai. All the time they backed towards the stairs. The first step took him by surprise, causing him to stumble backwards onto the floor. The figures surged a step or two, their triumphant roar turning quiet as he hastily pushed himself upright, his sword gleaming in the faint light reflecting through the window.

"What now?" Niamh said, voice low, barely more than a whisper.

"Keep going up, narrow the space, hope there's nobody behind us."

She nodded, working her way upwards beside him.

******

Emma watched the lurid green glow of the cameras' night vision, picking out Jay and Niamh in the Stygian interior of the hotel. The room was absolutely packed, everyone was on their feet, even the commentator seemed to have forgotten his stage voice, his accent coming through more strongly as he spoke. Somewhere in the past minutes the whole thing had ceased to have the air of a sporting event and had taken on the tone of a current affairs bulletin.

"...no idea what this represents. The duel has been called off and a police intervention team is on its way to the location now. The pictures you're seeing are live from the ruins of old New York... Let me reiterate, this is new territory for us, this is something we've never seen before, something new in the ruins of Earth..."

Wim squeezed her hand. "He'll be okay, Emma. He's nothing if not tough, eh?" he said. She nodded, grateful, but didn't take her eyes from the screen.

******

The first rush occurred on some pre-arranged signal that neither of them discerned. One minute the hunched figures were crowding the bottom of the staircase, warily marking their retreat, the next an incoherent cry of rage ripped from their throats and they were surging upward, metal bars, pieces of glass mounted on crude hafts, crude clubs all brandished aloft.

Jay didn't hesitate. He rushed forward with a scream, striking overhand with the katana into their midst, slashing right and left. He'd timed it right, they hadn't expected him to take the initiative, he was above them, their weapons weren't ready. The sword sliced wetly into one, two, three figures - sending them spinning down into the surging mass of their comrades - before the crowd broke behind them, shuffling back in panicked flight. Jay didn't push his luck, stepping clumsily up to rejoin Niamh, breathing harder than ever.

"Fuck, Jay, you scared me," she said, smiling. He returned the smile, then a sudden coughing fit overtook him, bending him double, retching and hacking. Below them the crowd had recovered their composure. "Keep moving," she said, taking his arm, pulling him upward.

It was pitch black now, barely enough light to be able to make out one another in the dark.

"Don't get separated, Niamh," he said, holding her arm as they moved up. She nodded.

"This far enough?" she said. As far as she could tell they were about halfway up to the next floor.

He looked up and down. "Good enough."

"Now what?"

"We wait."

"Wait for what?"

"Help of course. The cameras are broadcasting this live back to orbit, they should already have sent assistance."

She nodded. "How long?"

He grimaced. "Six hours or so."

"Fuck."

The figures hadn't made any move, watching warily from below. They were probably a few under a dozen in number, still too many, but not so many that survival was impossible, he thought. He strained his eyes, looking up and about. It was too dark to see anything at all.

"What do you think about moving up, trying to find a defensible location, a room or something?" he said.

"We can't stay here for six hours."

"Agreed." He took her hand, the pair of them re-commencing their upward movement at a halting pace, feeling for their footing on the dark stairs.

"Spaceman," a groaning voice, rough as gravel but clear enough that it could be understood, speaking from the back of the crowd, hidden in the darkness. They stopped, staring. "Spaceman, we not want you, we want her. Give her us, go free..." he said, his voice sibilant, indistinct - more a moan than clearly defined words.

The crowd breathed a collective agreement, a low moan of need that was more chilling than the chanting had been. They took a step closer, Niamh and Jayden feeling their way up another step in response.

"Oh, is that all you want?" Jay said. "You should have said earlier."

Niamh glared at him. "Very funny, Jayden."

Slowly the crowd parted, shuffling reluctantly aside to make way for the newcomer. "We want her. No leave here alive unless you give her us."

"Holy shit," Niamh muttered. Jayden stared. The speaker was huge, big enough to make Stanislav look small, Jayden thought. He towered over his companions, a long filthy coat hanging in rags about his huge frame, his enormous head entirely bald but for a small clump of yellow hair clinging stubbornly above his ears. In his hands, hands the size of hams, he held a long scaffold pole - rusty and thick, the ends beaten and sharpened into crude, axe-like blades.

"Me want her, you go," he said, his face contorting as he spoke, the words obviously unfamiliar.

"I tell you what, Goliath, how about you fuck off and we both go," Niamh said.

The giant figure chuckled, a strange hooting sound unlike any laughter Jayden had heard but identifiable in some human way as a crude kind of amusement. "How 'bout you be good fuck me woman..."

"Oh, he knows you, then, Niamh," Jay said offhandedly. "Old boyfriend?"

They worked their way up another step, the crowd following in their wake.

"What, you jealous, Carney," she said, laughing humourlessly. "Afraid he was better than you?"

"Where you go, spaceman?" Goliath said, walking up in front of the crowd. Jay put his hand on the grip of his pistol. "There nowhere to go we not follow."

"You still got a round?" he said.

"Yeah, I was kind of saving it..."

"Fight me, spaceman," Goliath said, turning to the baying crowd bunched close behind him. "Fight me here. If win go free. If lose I take woman."

Niamh squeezed his hand. "Don't even think of it, Jay. You're not leaving me on my own on this staircase with the 'Gang Rape and Cannibalism Society of New York'," she said quietly. The proximity chimes on both their suites went off. They shared a glance. Stanislav was close.

"Look we need to get some kind of advantage," he whispered. "We aren't getting that here and it's so dark I don't know what the hell we're walking into above us."

She turned, looking above them, swore under her breath. The staircase ran out into a pitch black corridor not more than half a dozen steps above them. "What are you thinking, Carney?"

Instead of answering her he shouted to Goliath, "I'll fight you, Goliath, but how can you guarantee we'll go free after I kill you?"

"'Guarantee'? What 'guarantee'?"

Jayden sighed. "Maybe I can out think him," he whispered to Niamh.

"Don't count on it, I've been carrying you for weeks..." she said nastily.

He glared at her, spoke to Goliath. "Like a promise, big guy, how do I know that your lovely friends will let us go if I win?"

Goliath chuckled again, hooting unpleasantly. "I promise. If you kill me, they let go free." He spun to face the crowd, yelling, "If win fight, spaceman go free, woman go free." He waved his pole at them, driving them back, cowering, barking submission.

"Fuck, he's stupider than a rock," Jay muttered.

"You're not trusting my life to that fucking promise, Carney," she said.

He looked at her seriously. "No I'm not. I'm trying to buy us time. Somewhere down there Stanislav is waiting, hopefully he'll be able to help at the best moment. We still have hours before any help arrives. If I can kill shit for brains that'll buy us a little time."

"Not if he kills you, Jay. Then all you've bought us both is a nice funeral..." She swallowed. "Maybe worse," she said with a glance at the crowd.

"You got a better idea, O'Hara?"

Niamh remained silent for a minute, watching the gathered crowd, as if she was weighing options. The crowd didn't speak, nothing so coherent as speech, but they made noises, guttural sounds, growls more appropriate for beasts that human beings.

"Jay..." she said, her eyes never leaving the crowd. "I don't want either of us to die here. This is not our place or time." She glanced at him quickly, eyes darting back to the crowding mob waiting for their reply. "Whatever you decide to do, don't fucking leave me here alone, okay?"

He smiled at her, barely visible through the slats of his helmet's faceplate, but she could feel it nevertheless. "I'm not leaving you, Niamh. Count on it."

She nodded, said, "I am, Jayden."

"Hey, Goliath, where we fight," he said, shouting. His voice dropped then to a whisper, said under his breath, "Stay close to me Niamh. You've got my back." He passed her the pistol, which she slotted into her belt next to the first.

The giant looked up the stairs, his face pale in the darkness. "Fight here. Fight now." He broke off, pointing into the empty hall behind him, hooting with his strange laughter.

"Yeah, fucking comedian," Jayden muttered, then called, "Get light, big guy, make fire, yeah. I can't see in the fucking dark like you."

Goiliath went on hooting but amongst the unsettling laugh lay some element of instruction, odd calls and strangled words. After a few minutes a flickering light was visible behind the crowd, dancing along the walls of the stairwell. Niamh looked at him. "Hope you know what you're doing, Jay."

Slowly the crowd moved back from the stairwell, making space. Goliath stepped away from the base of the stairs, moving into the cleared area. Reluctantly the two of them followed, picking their way with exaggerated slowness. In the main hall a number of rubbish fires had been lit in a large semi-circle about the open floor, much of the ruined furniture from earlier forming the base for the fires. They burned with an oily, black smoke, casting a flickering orange glow over everything and gradually filling the hall with acrid fumes. Around the perimeter of the open space the crowd gathered in a long unbroken line, their faces nothing short of ghastly in the dancing flames.

"Fucking hell, Jay," Niamh said, placing herself at the edge of the stairwell, her hand resting easily on the pistol grip, the assegai slung over her back. "Don't you fucking die on me, you bastard."

"Don't tell me you'd miss me?" he said, grinning.

"Actually, Jay, I would." She was looking at him with a peculiar intensity. "Just come back to me, okay?"

He pulled his helmet off, pressed his lips quickly to hers, kissing her passionately. "Like I said, count on it." He slid his helmet back on, tightening the chin strap. He turned away, the giant was facing the other way, grunting and barking at the crowd before him. "Okay, Goliath, how do you want to start this farce?"

Goliath spun about with an incoherent cry, swinging his pole with both hands like a bladed quarterstaff. In three surprisingly quick steps he covered the gap between them, the pole whistling for Jayden's head.

"Fuck!" Jay said, diving for the floor. He hit it hard, rolling to absorb the impact, sweeping smoothly to his feet. The pole caught him across the middle, its blunt centre sending him reeling back to floor, pain exploding in his ribs. Somewhere in the distance he could hear Niamh scream.

Desperately he scrabbled away, with a whirring whistle the pole smashed into the ground where he'd lain mere moments before. He felt chips of stone bounce off his helmet, kept moving. Goliath leapt again, screaming horribly, landing so that his legs straddled him. The pole raised to spear him, blade gleaming in the flickering light, his face contorted in a bestial shriek.

Jayden kicked his leg out from under him, rolling frantically away from the falling body. He staggered to his feet, his ribs felt as if they were on fire, his lungs hurt, he was struggling to breathe and Goliath was fast as well as big and stupid. Just fucking marvellous, he thought.

The katana slid easily into his hand as Goliath was struggling to his feet, his face twisted in fury. "Come on then, big guy, let's try it now..."

Goliath charged, his pole sweeping around in a savage blow. Jay blocked, metal ringing, the blow shook through his body with a shuddering force, threatening to knock the sword from his grip. He swung a swift counter cut and in a blur of movement the weapons rang with fury. Goliath hooted his delight, using both hands to swing alternately at him, his speed and power driving Jay back.

He gave ground, trading distance against the giant's power, feeling each blow he blocked like a sledgehammer slamming into him. He was tiring fast, knew he couldn't keep backing up forever. He risked a glance about, the perimeter hadn't moved, but he was in real danger of being forced into it. He didn't give much for his chances if he did.

He tried to manoeuvre back towards Niamh, but Goliath was wise to it, grinning mirthlessly as he blocked his escape. Another wild blow swung in, Jay barely managed to block it, jumping to absorb the impact, moving backwards away from the force. The giant allowed him no respite, driving forward with a further blow, cutting then stabbing with the pole's sharpened ends.

Again Jay was forced to give ground, each blow adding to his fatigue. He managed an occasional blow with the katana, but each feeble effort was easily blocked by the monster. He saw Niamh over the giant's shoulder, her face anguished, her hand on the pistol.

He needed an opening, needed to manufacture one.

Goliath slashed overhead, the pole spinning in his hand. Again Jay caught it on his blade, this time though the impact knocked him to his knees, grunting as he dropped.