“Wouldn’t what?” Afzit the elder said, at my side now.
If he got swept any further behind me, they could attack me from both sides. Then my job at self-defense would be infinitely harder.
Once they were done with me, they would go to my cell and…
I didn’t want to think about what might happen to the little human lady waiting there, trapped alone.
I stepped back until I came to the crossroad that led to the hall where my cell was located. I couldn’t let them follow me back. I couldn’t let them corner me. I’d end up trapped in my room with no way to escape.
“I don’t have time for this,” I growled.
I calmed myself with breathing exercises, knowing I was less likely to get out of this situation if I gave in to my desire to smash these creeps into bloody, pulpy oblivion.
“He looks nervous,” Afzit the elder said. “Don’t you agree, Afzit?”
“I do, Afzit.”
“Look guys, I don’t want any trouble,” I said.
“I think it’s a little too late for that, don’t you?” Afzit the younger said.
He removed the shiv from his pocket and spun it in the air, moving so fast it was a blur.
Slow and dimwitted they might be but their bodies operated on another plane. They were lightning fast.
I reached into my pocket and dug out a handful of credits. They were part of the winnings I got for the earlier fight. They would usually need to last me until my next victorious fight for necessary luxuries but I needed to survive that long first.
“We’re not interested in your money!” Afzit the elder said.
Afzit the younger pulled up short.
“We’re not?” he said quizzically. “Then why are we doing this?”
“It’s to lower his defenses, you half-wit!” Afzit the elder snapped.
“Oh.”
His ugly fat lips curled into an atrocious snarl. Drool seeped from the scarred corner of his mouth.
Over his shoulder, the dancer continued to perform his merry jig to no audience.
“Hey!” I said to the dancer. “Here’s a tip!”
I tossed the coins to the floor. The more adventurous ones rolled, making their escape.
“Well, thank ye!” the dancer said, dropping to the floor to hastily gather up the coins.
The twin’s eyes bulged at the sight of their quarry being scooped up by the mad dancer.
I took the opportunity firmly by both hands.
I swung my length of bed iron around and found Afzit the younger’s gleaming dome. Then I spun around and, knowing the second brother would expect the same to happen to him, I angled the pole down and struck the back of his knee and swept his leg out from under him. I moved with the momentum and brought the pole around.
I thought his head would have lowered due to taking out his knee but that hadn’t turned out to be the case.
Instead, I found his arm. It absorbed the entire blow and knocked him off balance. He hissed through his teeth and pulled his knife arm back.
I blocked it with the pole, then snapped the end of the bludgeon to one side, smacking his cheek. With him dazed, I raised the pole high over my head. Doing so left me open to attack but it would also be the final blow I needed to send him sprawling to the floor.
It worked. The twin struck the floor hard, his blade escaping his hand and skittering across the concrete.
I turned to face the other brother but he was still out cold.
I backed away from the scene, leaving the brothers unconscious.
I hope they stay that way.
I ran to my cell. It opened automatically and I stepped inside. I almost leaped out of my skin at Agatha’s scream.
“W-What’s going on?” she said.
“It’s a riot,” I said. “It’s a riot and the entire prison has gone to hell.”
I didn’t stop moving. I dropped to my knees in front of my bed and reached for the plastic box underneath. I pulled it out and, relieved to find nothing had happened to my beloved device, scooped it up in one hand and moved for the door.
I grabbed the bloodied iron pole in my other hand and made to leave.
Then I caught Agatha’s eye.
The poor thing was terrified. I pushed her from my mind and made to step outside.
I had a much better chance if I went alone. No one to slow me down. No one to get in the way.
But I hesitated.
What would happen to Agatha if I left her here? There was no doubt in my mind.
She would be fucked to within an inch of her life—and that was if she was lucky.
She wasn’t my responsibility. She was a Prize and a fate not much better than the aforementioned awaited her at the end of her long servitude in this place.
And yet, I still didn’t step through that doorway.
There was something special about her, wasn’t there?
The reason I’d chosen her before, the reason I chose any of the Prizes in the past, was due entirely for the accessories they wore. I needed them for the device I clutched in my hand.
Now it was complete. I needed an opportunity to use it and I had it in the form of the riot taking place right now.
The window would not be open forever.
Who knew when I would get a chance like this again?
Try never, the cynical voice in the back of my mind said. Leave her here. She’s a grown woman. She can take care of herself.
But I couldn’t do that.
I couldn’t leave her because after I chose her—no matter the reason—she was now my responsibility. She wouldn’t have been in my room otherwise. She would be in someone else’s or at the Prize Pool.
Would her fate be any better in those places? I didn’t know.
I doubted it.
Not that it mattered. She was here.
And she was a historian. I couldn’t let anything happen to her.
In my mind, I made a slight alteration to the course I needed to take. It wouldn’t take more than a handful of minutes to return her to the Prize Pool.
