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The Empire After The End Of Civilization
by phair
Chapter 17

Jaimy sat chewing on a blade of grass. Orr was squatting next to her. Both sets of eyes were fixed on the slaves’ infirmary. Other than the yelps and whimpers, the boys made when the guards dragged them inside, no sounds emerged from behind the shut door. The guards, initially, were casually leaning against the wall on either side of the entryway after they finished restraining the boys. However, the longer the time dragged on without cries of pain the more restless the men became.

“We should be hearing all sorts of commotion by now,” Orr muttered. “There’s something up, for sure.”

Jaimy squinted over at him and gave a shrug but offered no explanation. She planned to keep her theories about the silence to herself.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Dr. Adams screamed as she flung the door wide open.

Guards jumped to attention. The senior man snapped a sharp salute.

“Beg pardon, ma’am. Meaning of what?”

Adams snarled and strode within a breath of the man, “Those bucks are malnourished! They must be lacking protein. As soon as they saw the needle, they passed out! Every one of them is out cold. Still!” She made a great show of pointing at Orr and Jaimy, “You two, gather a few others and haul those bucks back to their beds or whatever the likes of you sleep on. Keep their wounds clean. Be sure they get fed and watered before anybody else; guards included. Senator Goode’s team counldn’t win a three legged race with a stable in this condition.”

“Ma’am, I don’t know what you mean,” the guard began.

“Save it! I’m a doctor. I know when I see inferior stock. Those bucks have potential to harden up but not without the proper feeding, watering, and grooming. Now, I’d put myself on report if I were you soldier. You’ve failed the Senator. I have every intention of seeing to it you get your stars busted into bars! Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the guard saluted again but somewhat sluggishly. “You heard the doctor, get to it.”

Orr and Jaimy were on their feet before the words were out of the guard’s mouth. Several other slaves hurried over to assist them. None of them spoke. The group moved passed the incensed doctor without raising their eyes. As they crossed paths, Adams reached out and snagged Jaimy by the arm.

“Not so fast.”

Jaimy stopped immediately. She kept her gaze fixed on the ground. Adams roughly took hold of her chin and tipped her head up.

“This is the one with that nasty ass infection,” Adams tisked. “I might as well check it before I leave. Go on, girl, get inside.”

Adams shoved Jaimy toward the doorway and followed two steps after her. The pair waited outside until the slaves finished carrying the unconscious boys away. The push on her shoulder moved Jaimy forward and into the building. She didn’t stop walking until Adams slammed the door shut behind them.

“Thank you,” Jaimy hushed without turning around.

Adams wrapped her arms around Jaimy and kissed her neck. “For what?”

“For whatever you did. For scaring the guards so bad they’ll never realize the boys are drugged and didn’t just faint. For this,” Jaimy said as she turned in the embrace to face Adams and bestowed a feather light kiss.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, slave. I’m just examining you for a fever,” Adams stated between several more kisses.

“Are they going to be okay?” Jaimy asked and reached into Adams pants.

The doctor shivered when Jaimy’s cold fingers entered her. “Yes, they’ll sleep for a few hours. Make sure they have plenty to drink when they wake up. If any of them are slow waking up in the morning then walk them around for a half hour every hour until they get it together.”

Jaimy watched Adams bite her lower lip. The woman breathed in deeply through her nose. A soft grunt marked her climax. Jaimy cradled her as she shuddered in its aftermath.

“Thank you,” Dr. Adams whispered.

Jaimy had no worthy reply so she just caressed the woman’s warm skin with soft kisses.

* * *

Jaimy settled onto the hard bench nailed to the wall of the idling truck. She readied her D rings for the restraining chain, which would link her to the slaves on either side of her and hold the whole line in their seats. A middle bench separated her from the line of slaves bound to the wall on the other side of the truck.

They were unprepared when the guards herded them together before the morning meal was done. None of the slaves realized it was even close to time for First Eve. Jaimy was fairly sure the deadly event was still a month or so away. Pandemonium erupted once the slaves saw the truck backing into the compound. In the ensuing chaos, she lost sight of Atticus and Orr. She felt badly about losing them when all that remained of their lives could now be measured in days if not hours.

“There she’s at,” Orr’s deep voice rumbled.

Jaimy looked up and saw him with Atticus dragging behind. They were shuffling into seats against the far wall. She gave them a quick head nod. The pair grinned in return.

“Told ya she’d be sitting pretty when we found her, boy.” Orr said loud enough for her to hear. “Jaimy’s the one to watch in the games. Where she goes the win will follow.”

“Don’t bet your life on that, old man,” Jaimy warned. “I’m in the middle of the lot of you and we got no chance of winning nothing. ‘Cept maybe, a spot in an open grave.”

“See everybody, she thinks we’re gonna make it to be runners up,” Orr bellowed a laugh.

The macabre humor rumbled through the truck. Moans and chuckles followed. However, the group’s tension eased with the banter. They may, in fact, be heading to their deaths but they were among friends.

Once the chain slipped through Jaimy’s D rings, she leaned back against the wall. She shifted slightly to find some comfort in the tight and rough-hewn confines.

“Don’t want to look dead already when they unload us at Third Bowl Stadium. That would just ruin their fun of getting to watch us die.”

Jaimy’s sarcastic thought hit a nerve. She began to turn the idea over in her mind.

“Perhaps, just perhaps, this might be the last First Eve. Maybe the worst team ever can make it so,” her mind raced with the possibilities.

* * *

They stood in a loose huddle behind the bars leading to the gaping opening to the vast stadium. Many teams were already locked in large cages around the field. Many of the stadium seats were already occupied for this parade of the walking dead.

The chain fastened to them in the truck still linked them together. Even if they were free of it, they would have stayed in a close cluster. Jaimy was speaking but her voice was pitched low. The message was just for them. It was the makings of their plan. They were fermenting a revolt.

“None of us,” Jaimy said, “or any other slave out there stands a chance to live. Even if by some miracle you survived and won this fight, our Mistress would just keep training you. Next year you’d be in the exact same spot. It ain’t living like that. It’s just breathing.”

“So, what’ll we do? Walk out there, drop to our knees, and give ‘em our throats to cut?” One of the men asked bitterly. “I ain’t saying you’re wrong but to just give up and get slaughtered…,”

Jaimy shook her head. “We ain’t giving up and we ain’t talking about being slaughtered.”

“Then what are you talking about?” Atticus asked.

“The first four rounds are just hand to hand. We need to get the word out to the other teams about the plan during the first two rounds. Round three they’ll let us draw blood. Round four they expect deaths. Round five they demand genocide.” Jaimy explained. “We need to be sure not one drop of blood is let in round three. Nobody hits anybody. If we refuse to fight then it’s over.”

“They’ll kill us,” the woman cuddled in Orr’s arms stated the obvious.

Atticus spoke up. “We’re gonna die anyway. Do you want to die trying to kill somebody as weak as you or do you want to die saving your humanity?”

Jaimy looked at the boy in amazement. She was right about him. He’d never survive to see next summer. He was too pure to endure the horror of the games.

“It’s better to be a dead man than a desperate slave,” Atticus explained with a blush in his cheeks for the group’s undivided attention.

Jaimy gave a nod. “I understand it is too much to expect you to answer now. I’ll respect any answer I get. Everybody’s got to figure out their own path here. But, I’m not swinging at anybody. Coach was the last man I killed. I shouldn’t have done it. I should have killed the man who forced us to fight. I won’t kill again,” she grinned, “unless True Goode falls into the field. Then I’d have no problem snapping one more neck before my time is done.”

The group laughed lightly.

Orr finally spoke. “I didn’t know you were a dreamer.”

“Just started.”

“I’m with you. Your plan is as good as any. Anybody object?”

The group was silent.

“Spread the word any chance you get but keep the guards out of the loop. They’ll know long before we hit the field what we’re gonna do but they might try to stop us from getting to most everybody if they figure us out too soon.”

“Jaimy, they’re coming,” Atticus warned as the guards approached the bars.

“Look lively! The bookies are here to see the goods today. Show ‘em your swagger and bare your teeth like the vicious little killers you are,” the guard bellowed as he turned the key in the lock. “Don’t make me have to encourage you now.”

His grin was chilling. Jaimy allowed herself a sneer in his direction. The command had been to show some teeth and she welcomed a chance to display her venom.

“That’s the way, give ‘em a show!”

Jaimy did her best to keep her fists at her side. She let all of her anger play out across her brow. Sweat formed on the back of her neck in spite of the cold wind whipping across the open field. They marched out in two straight rows to be inspected by the competition and the odds makers.

“Atticus? Atticus, that you?”

Jaimy turned toward the emotional voice. A man stood by the bars of the first cage. He was reaching through in a hopeless bid to touch the passing line of slaves.

“Dad? Dad, Dad!” Atticus screamed and stumbled.

Orr grabbed the boy to pull him along. Atticus fought to get away. Of course, he was no match for the grown man holding him by his chain.

“No, it’s my Dad! Orr, you got to let me talk to him. I thought he died. Please,” Atticus begged.

Orr held his tongue but Jaimy could see the tears gathering at the corner of his eye. The big man ignored the boy’s pleas and continued to pull him. He forced Atticus to keep up with the team.

“No!”

“Don’t make me carry you,” Orr hissed.

“Atticus…I love you!” The man in the cage called after them but only sobs replied.

Jaimy steeled her emotions as best as she could. She had no intention of letting them see her cry or lose control to such a point the guards would gleefully subdue her. She drew herself up tall trying to squeeze ever inch of height she could call her own. Her no nonsense glare dared the caged slaves to challenge her.

“No time like the present to establish a pecking order,” she thought as she focused her narrowed eyes from one frightened face to the next.

A face from the past caught her attention. She could not suppress the grin spreading across her face. Cletus stood near the bars of the third cage in line. He was so bloodied, broken, and bowed, his owner did not bother to chain him.

“Justice,” Jaimy muttered.

Her new found joy shattered seconds later when her eyes settled on the next cage in line. The Captain was carefully assessing her team. His expression shifted from shock to concern. He shouted something unintelligible over his shoulder and Jaimy’s former teammates scrambled to obey. Jaimy stumbled to a stop when she saw the woman being guided over to the bars.

“Barbarian?” Jaimy gasped.

The barbarian seemed much worse for wear. Her once rock solid body had thinned to the bone and her skin was a sickly yellow. She shivered and swayed trying to hold her balance. A filthy rag was wrapped around the barbarian’s head covering her right eye. Or, more likely the hole where the right eye had been. It took a few moments for the barbarian to find Jaimy. Her hands grabbed the bars and she howled. It was a deep and pain filled sound that only anguish could cause.

Jaimy ignored the shouts of her new teammates and lunged toward the barbarian’s cage. She struggled but the shear number of men and women she was bound to kept her well out of the barbarian’s reach.

“Fuckin’ A! Let me get to her!”

The guard’s fist to her face was the last thing Jaimy saw but a lone scream echoed in her ears as she crumbled to the ground.

“LITTLE PIG! MY LITTLE PIG!”

TBC

*

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