The Dead World Ch. 14

Behind him, he heard the snarling desperation of yet another of the ten or so undead remaining, still rushing the meager handful of surviving inmates. One of the the fallen bodies slid into the dark red mud aside Achilles' boots, felled by yet another of Raven's arrows.

The warrior had far more pressing concerns. The monster had begun to advance, coagulated streams of blood spraying from the fresh gashes Achilles had torn in his neck. An arrow whizzed just past him, and much to the inmate's surprise and dismay, the monster had moved just in time to avoid the headshot while charging at him with an animalistic bellow. The fallen Hunter threw its entire weight upon him, and they crashed down to the muddy ground of the Pit, struggling violently.

Achilles had just caught the snapping jaws of the milky-eyed, bald-headed reanimate with one of the thin straight blades, desperately plunging the other into his cheek attempting to dig down into his brain. It was the last place anyone wanted to be, trapped beneath a snarling, giant cannibalistic corpse on the fucking ground.

The creature had seized one of his arms with very much the same intent of tearing the limb from his body as he had done to his murderer, and gritting his teeth, Achilles put every ounce of his strength into running the blade tearing into his face and clear through. With a strained yell he forced the straight edge upwards with all of his might, cleaving the undead Hunter's head clean in two. The ninjato blade tore through the biter's mouth and skull, sending blood, bone and brain matter raining down upon him.

His chest heaved, the massive corpse falling slack overtop him, the dull thud of yet another of Raven's arrows falling yet another of the reanimates charging toward the trapped inmate. He struggled under the weight and mass of the now still corpse, the searing pain of the arm the creature had attempted to tear from him rippling a surge of utter agony as he attempted to move it and pull himself from beneath the weight of the monstrous biter.

All at once, he felt the weight shifting as Raven planted a boot against the fallen Hunter's shoulder to try and shift it from atop his companion. Achilles dropped the ninjato, his bloodied fingers grasping the gloved hand of his companion as he hoisted him up from the puddle of blood and red clay.

"Achilles! Achilles! Achilles! Achilles!"

The uproarious crowd fell on deaf ears as Achilles clutched the dislocated arm, listening as Raven nocked another arrow, and effectively took down the last of the biters to ecstatic applause and cheers from the crowd. Bloodied and covered in mud, the Asian man set his sights on the younger male, who nodded his head knowingly and slowly moved into position. After slinging his bow over his own shoulder, he took the other man's wrist while placing a broad palm at his dislocated shoulder.

"On three..." He didn't count. The sudden jerk of a motion sent a streak of pain that caused Achilles to groan miserably aloud as Raven shifted the ball of his shoulder violently back into its socket. All the same, the younger man couldn't help the relief on his features as Achilles sucked down the pain, his miserable expression mellowing to low irritation, using his left hand to draw his shirt up and wipe away the infected blood, mud and rain from his face.

Raven retrieved his fellow inmates' blades from where they lay, using his boot to free that which had become lodged in the expired reanimate's head before swiping the other from the muck as the sound of the chain link shifting alerted them to the ladder being lowered into the Pit. He offered the weapons back to Achilles before hastily discarding his sullied gloves to the mud beneath their boots, not at all wishing to even risk holding onto or attempting to clean them of the infected blood. Replacing gloves was a small price to pay when his comrade had put in most of the work bringing down the behemoth.

Of the ten men who had entered, Raven wasn't shocked to see that only two of the other individuals had managed to survive. The two remaining inmates sprinted for the ladder in panic-stricken desperation, and he clapped the other man upon the back good naturedly.

"You're one crazy motherfucker, Ace. I'm glad your ass is on my side at least. C'mon... let's get the fuck up outta here."

Above them, the crowd raged on.

"Achilles! Achilles! Achilles! Achilles!"

Achilles slowly calmed his breathing, and cast his gaze up through the harsh floodlights and heavily downpour of rain, up toward the booth. He could just make her out there, standing beneath the flow of water under the shelter of a wide umbrella as rain poured from the darkened sky. He could all but feel her bitter resentment as the death match concluded and he rose victorious, once again. With a coy smirk, he turned his back to Viper, and slowly made his way up the ladder. He had barely gotten his feet beneath him at the top before the overseers snapped the shackles back around his wrists and soon after, his ankles, relieving him of his favored weapons before ushering him back toward the prison transport.

He settled sorely just across from his rain soaked companion, who leaned his head back against the hard surface of the bus chair as the overseers filtered onto the bus, laughing eagerly and clapping their victorious Champion upon his injured shoulder.

"Shit, I pulled two hundred credits off tonight's match, you're a fucking goldmine Achilles!"

"I low-balled it, Wolf was a giant sonofabitch, I figured they'd spent more time running from that fucker, ahahahaha! You probably made enough for that one to walk the mids for the week... bet you're sure excited about that, eh, Achilles?"

He was exhausted... but all the same, he flashed a languid smile and nodded his head gently as he slowly closed his deep brown eyes. He hated playing kind to his captors, even after years of knowing them, but the latter option was to be on the receiving end of their cruelty. They congratulated Raven as well for his marksmanship, gossiping amongst themselves on how the pair of men had managed to escape the Pit once again with their lives while they sat in silence as the prison transport slowly shifted forward... and just behind them, the low violent coughing from one of the other survivors had drawn Raven's attention.

"YO... you fuckin' bit back there?!" He couldn't stand, not chained in place, but the overseers had certainly taken notice of his accusation. The half-hearted protests of one of the other surviving men was cut short when he fell still, slumping over against the window of the bus abruptly... and only seconds later he began to snarl and rip against the chains with violent intention. A set of well placed shots rang out, two to the head, inspiring Raven to shake his head bitterly and turn his face into his arm to shield his nose and mouth from possible blood spatter in the air as he muttered lowly to himself.

"You're a lucky son of a bitch that you can't get sick by this shit anymore, Ace. Fuckin' wild how fast motherfuckers turn these days... tch. Yo--dude driving! Get me the fuck off this bus, man--drive fuckin' faster or somethin'."

The ride was short. Achilles had all but dozed off when the bus lurched to a stop, and first and foremost the overseers ushered the surviving inmates off before calling for quarantine on account of the ill-fated survivor. The armed men guided them through the heavy metal doors into the Inmates barracks. The building itself doubled as the station for the overseers, officers and deputies under the Peacekeeper. It had been a highschool, a very long time ago. It was now essentially a prison.

The shackles at their feet were removed once inside, the scanners drawn out to the same effect as always. Achilles' temperature scanner set off... as did the mutation scanner inserted into his neck to draw his blood. They bypassed protocol, because it had never been any different when confronted with this particular man. He was a carrier, and as such, under expressive protection. They gestured him down toward the showers before scanning in Raven, who was more than grateful he hadn't set off any of the scanners.

With a sigh of relief he was pressed on after Achilles, accustomed to several overseers at their backs. They made their way down toward the repurposed gymnasium that served as the sleeping barracks for the inmates. With five rows of thirty bunks designed for housing two per unit, they had ample room for anyone who went against the laws of the Three Rings of Hell. Less than half of the bunks were occupied. Longevity was not a common trait of most inmates.

Both men gathered their sparse toiletries before beelining for the hall leading down to the showers, the usual stationed overseers they passed along the way fresh and alert after the late night shift change. They offered ample congratulations to their resident "celebrity" inmates as they made their way into the wide shower and chose opposite corners before starting the water and peeling free from their filthy clothing.

"Y'know... I swear she sent that big motherfucker down just to kill your ass. Ain't no way that was just about the Hunters killing each other over petty change--the fuck you even do to piss that crazy bitch off, anyway?"

"...Blew up her fuel depot."

Raven raised both brows before laughing to himself, clearly impressed. The other inmate had never been a particularly chatty individual, far more the brooding, sarcastic type who seemed rather comfortable to suffer in silence. Achilles focused on rushing the soap over his scarred, toned torso and shoulders, the pranging ache of his previously dislocated shoulder easing into nothing beneath the lukewarm spray as he watched the rust colored water melt down the drain with melancholy interest.

"Her brother died in the blast, along with the rest of his team. Six men. When I came to, they already had me handcuffed in the back of a humvee and were making their way down the bridge..."

"Shit luck, my man. I can't even lie, though... if your crazy ass wasn't around I don't know what the fuck I'd do in here alone, on God. I'm surprised I've made it as long as I have." Raven shook his head, hurriedly rinsing the soap from his body before the overseers could come along to rush them out. Even celebrities had someone to answer to in this place. With old worn towels looped about their bodies the pair moved on rapidly to the lockers, fetching unsecured belongings from their designated store spaces. They began to dress hurriedly, unsurprised to find one of the overseers lingering between the rows not long after.

"Achilles. Visitor."

His narrow eyes shifted over his shoulder as he was caught in the process of drawing a clean, dark gray cotton crew neck shirt over his scarred torso. It was late... well after curfew at this point. The Pit would have been well on its way to clearing with the overseers dishing out hefty citations to any denizens caught loitering or wandering where they shouldn't be.

His thoughts flickered first to Sweetheart, but dismissed it as quickly as it had formed. She wouldn't have the pull for such a late calling. He couldn't for a moment imagine who had clearance or desire to visit so late, but all the same... it meant he couldn't simply turn it down, either. Whoever had come was someone of authority. The overseer wouldn't allow him to dismiss it.

With a wordless nod, he drew a pair of loose black sweatpants up his legs before sliding his feet into a worn pair of black sandals, pushing both mental and physical fatigue to the back of his thoughts before approaching the overseer who secured a set of shackles around his wrists.

"Catch ya on the flipside, Ace." The parting statement of his comrade was met with a lazy salute as Achilles threw up a set of fingers to the younger black man, now taking his time to dress and unwind after the harrowing ordeal of surviving another night in the Pit.

They were slow moving back through the halls... he noted several other overseers had joined his procession down the white washed walkways with its glaring fluorescents beaming down on the polished tile, on toward the designated office space for the overseers and officers. It was unusual to be brought to the interrogation room. Typically the visiting area was a room that had once been the highschool cafeteria, with tables and chairs allowing visitors and inmates to sit across from one another and enjoy their hour permitted to talk and socialize in relative leisure.

He was brought into the nearly empty room, and his shackles attached to the metal table before he was told to sit, in a similarly styled chair of plain and rigid function. It was cold, and uncomfortable. He might have been nervous as he glanced toward the two-way mirror, certain someone of importance had called upon him... for what purpose, he wasn't entirely sure. The last member of the Council who had met him had been a man they called War a year ago, who wished to petition for amnesty in his stead... he believed he would have been a valued asset to the Hunter party not only for his immunity to the undead but for surviving for as long as he had when the fatality rates were so astronomically high for inmates in the pit. Achilles sharply declined that offer... and every offer War approached him with after.

The doors were opened, and before all else, one of the Hunters had entered. He recognized him almost immediately; the tall, formidable blonde who wore his hair in long, thick locs. His hardened gray expression and the weapon he carried were un-betraying of his namesake. Alpha.

He wasn't the slightest bit surprised when she was soon to follow, still dressed in that immaculate green gown of silk. Her heels clicked, an ample distraction, the luxurious fur staving off the winter chill settled lazily low on her shoulders exposing her lovely collarbones and luscious bust. The strapless gown left little to the imagination, hugging every curve of the dark goddess' body in ways that were difficult to ignore... or would have been, for most men. Achilles looked at her with sullen disinterest, leaning back when he realized his unexpected visitor would have been best ignored, no matter the offense it would have inspired.

"Achilles, proper show you put on! What's the rate for an execution like that these days? Bonus points for a bloody monster like Wolf? 'Round six hundred credits, innit? I hope you put something up on the books in your favor, you're making a right killing these days." Viper's rich alto tones were almost musical, everything from the way she laughed to her mirthful delight as she moved to sit across from Achilles, who avoided her gaze with expressive disinterest.

"I'm not permitted to gamble. What is it you want, Viper?"

"Oh, a smidge of respect when you address your Superior would be a wonderful start, pet. I only came to congratulate you, after all... what with three full years of prime entertainment under your belt, you've become such a delight to watch in the games. Mm... pity you won't consider any offers to step back into society. I could use a man of your expertise." She tilted her head to him, her long arms resting on the arms of the metal chair, cushioned by that of the thick black mink coat coiled around her. Alpha shifted at her back, his steely gray gaze settled on the bound inmate, who had grown increasingly agitated. Achilles' dark eyes settled on Viper pointedly.

"I'd rather die in the Pit than be your little lap dog..." His eyes flickered to Alpha, "That aside, I don't think your cult-boys would take too kindly to an outsider joining their ranks."

"They'd see it as barely an inconvenience. You put in your time and have paid restitution for the lives you took ten times over with the dead you've felled. To make it a year equates to a life sentence when most don't make it to the end of a week... I'm willing to let by-gones be by-gones. I would think you miss being able to come and go as you please, don't you? Wouldn't you like to venture out beyond the walls again?"

He set his eyes on her in a deadpan stare, almost certain that Viper didn't mean for a moment anything she said. She stared right back at him for what felt like the longest time before she slowly began to laugh, shaking her head as she drew her long, thick braids over her shoulder.

"You're a right stubborn prat, d'you know that Achilles? Very well. I suppose I wouldn't say I'm entirely over our differences, in any case... I much prefer you to die in the Pit, myself. I much prefer you to suffer every day of your pathetic life."

"I'm curious, Viper... did you ever see a real life for yourself after you brought down the cannibals... a husband... a family?" Again, his eyes jumped to Alpha, who's grasp upon the AK-47 tightened harshly, "Before they turned you into a fucking monster?"

Achilles' low taunt had caused her eyes to narrow dangerously. The flash of anger over her placid, beautiful features--the way her neatly groomed dark brows knit together and her little button nose wrinkled in absolute anger were only accented by the fact that she was on her feet and flinging the heavy metal chair across the room at him in only a matter of moments.

The brunt of the heavy metal projectile was deflected by his hands, pushing the viciously thrown metal chair as it flew through the air to avoid being struck full on with the object, even with his hands bound and attached to the metal table. A cool smile had pulled at his lips as he dug deep beneath the Superior Elect's skin, and without a moment more of hesitation she set her sights on the door. Alpha trailed along after her, his stormy eyes casting a harsh look of distaste toward the captive inmate.

"Every... day... of your pathetic fucking life... I mean to see you suffer. I'll find a way... mark my fucking words."

"There's not shit you can do to me that you haven't already. So either take aim and pull the trigger yourself, or stay in your fucking booth and sulk about it. I'll survive everything you throw at me... just to fucking spite you."

Alpha had held the door from the other end as she exited, but she was not at all pleased until she had slammed it shut behind her, leaving Achilles to muse with devious satisfaction over winning the game of words, this time.

----------

The sweeping storms offered small comforts. A minuscule window of time. There was no telling if they'd stretch over the week, but Slash was hopeful.

It wasn't ideal to be out over muddy terrain, but the rain would help wash away tracks, and the less than favorable conditions might slow down any scouting parties the rival group had sent out. Not knowing anything about them made things increasingly tense, but all the same... an unsteady calm had settled over the group. Skully had gathered the men, all but Oz, the very next morning to dictate their next course of action. He made no mention of Dog's unsuccessful attempt on his life, nor did he think to call Judgment against him for it, despite Dog's anxious anticipation over that.

It wasn't comforting in the slightest. When Skully was not outright with his punishments, he was underhanded in them... to say the youngster felt an impending sense of dread was very much an understatement. Being choked within an inch of his life should have been enough, but his paranoid doubts in that had spiraled to nauseous heights. He couldn't wait to be free of the gathering and put as much distance between himself and the new group lead as humanly possible.

Skully wasted no time turning his attention on their most pressing matters; preparing the vehicles for travel was first and foremost. Packing up anything they meant to take and securing valued assets such as food and ammunition in the event that they had to leave in a hurry could be the difference between life and death on the road. The watch shifts were split, and he was certainly pleased when Ruthless and Diablo conformed effortlessly to his suggestions.