Fight for Life: Chapter 7

Fight for Life: The Game

Marshall awoke with his hands tied behind his back. A burlap sack was hanging loosely over his head blocking his sight to what was going on around him. From what he could feel, he was tied to a wooden wobbly chair, and his arm was definitely broken. The sound of many shuffling feet filled his ears as he tried to put the pieces together of what had happened. Slowly the images of the wreck began to creep back into his mind and with a frightening shock he remembered that Lisa was missing. Marshall began to fight against the restraints that kept him to the chair. With every twist, streams of pain shot through his body, but the anger that was building in him kept him fighting.

“Lisa!” he began yelling over and over again.

The shuffling feet stopped. Fear gripped Marshall's heart making it skip a beat. Zombies.

Such carelessness, Marshall thought to himself.

“Looks like Sleeping Beauty is up boss.” The voice shocked Marshall but at the same time brought him relief. The shuffling was not zombies, just his captures. The sack was removed from his head and it took several seconds for his eyes to adjust to the lights shining directly into his eyes. Black Beard was sitting in an overly large recliner facing Marshall.

“Mornin' Sarge. Glad to see you are still with the land of the living.” Black Beard said mockingly.

“Where is my daughter?” Marshall said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, you will see her soon Sarge. We have us a game to play and well you two are going to be our players.”

It had been years since Marshall had heard a person refer to him as 'Sarge.' Black Beard must have assumed that because Marshall was in his U.S. Army uniform with sergeant rank on the collars that he was still in.

“A game? Where is my daughter!?”

“Chill man.” Black Beard said through chuckles. His beard was littered with small animal bones and skulls. His black leather jacket was covered with random patches that one would assume that would be on a biker’s jacket. The one that was catching Marshall's eye though was the one that said, “I AM GOD.” What kind of man would make a statement as that? The kind that would tie him up and say he was playing a game.

“Look Sarge, this is a simple game we like to call, 'Fight for Life.' The rules are very simple, you and your daughter complete this game and you win. You die, you lose. Very simple rules right? Anyway, you are going to be your daughter’s eyes and she is going to be your hands. You following me so far?”

Black Beard asked but continued before Marshall could say anything.

“Soon I will have you pick two numbers. Both of these numbers will be from one through ten. These numbers do hold meaning so choose wisely.”

The clan of leather clad bikers surrounding Black Beard began to laugh.

“Now, are you ready to play?”

“Where's my daughter!?” Marshall screamed. He began to buck again in the chair fighting the ropes that were holding him hostage to the chair. The bikers began to laugh louder at the feeble attempts made to escape by Marshall. Black Beard continued his calculated stare on Marshall. Much like a cat that was toying with a trapped mouse. It was just a matter of time before he would pounce.

“Like I said Sarge. You will see her soon. Well as a matter of fact, you can see her now. Because it is show time!!” Black Beard yelled this last sentence as if he was a host of a late night television show.

A large man in a full suit of leather approached Marshall and lifted his chair off the ground. Marshall looked up into the face of the behemoth and was shocked to see that he was also wearing a leather mask with a zipper for the mouth. Behind the mask, Marshall could see his steely blue eyes seemingly staring into his soul. The man carried the chair with ease to a set of closed double doors that seemed to open on their own. Through the door Marshall could see what used to be the gym floor of a National Guard Armory. He had made it to his destination. But, he had walked right into a trap.

The armory floor looked to have been converted into a large makeshift maze. The floor was littered with different sizes of plywood, bars, doors, and other pieces of lumber, all creating a very wicked attempt at a maze. A cage made of chain linked fencing hung directly over center court. The bleachers were packed full of screaming people; men, women, children, of all different shapes, sizes, and colors. Several were dressed as the bikers were but then there were others that looked like simple folks; farmers, everyday people. So this was this game? Marshall scanned the playing field looking for his daughter. The leather man placed a headset over Marshall's head placing an ear piece in his ear and a microphone in front of his mouth. The large cage swung on a small cranes arm to just over Marshall and was lowered to the ground. Still sitting in the chair, Marshall was lifted once again from the floor and placed inside the cage.

The sound of the crowd grew louder. They could sense blood; like sharks to a frenzy. Marshall suddenly realized that he could hear sobbing in his ear.

“Lisa?” Marshall asked, not really wanting to know she was the one crying.

“Daddy? Oh God daddy. Help me! They glued a blindfold to my face!”

Marshall began to see red. He looked around furiously, trying to spot Black Beard.

“It will be OK baby. I promise. We just have to be tough and get through this and I promise we will be OK.”

“OK daddy. What are they going to do with us?”

“They said they want to play a game. I'm not sure what they want baby.”

Black Beard stepped out on side of the gym floor as a spot light lit him up like the ring leader at a big tent circus event. The crowd went wild. Screams and cheers flooded the room as their 'God' entered.

“Hello boys and girls! Are we ready for some fun and slaughter?!”

The crowd roared even louder.

“Of course you are. Now we have a real treat for you tonight kiddies. We have us Sarge and is little girl Lisa! They have been so kind as to lend their services for our entertainment!”

The crowd began to laugh at Black Beards joke.

“Now, everyone here knows how Fight for Life works so let's just cut to the chase. Sarge? Do you have the two numbers?”

Marshall began to shack the cage back and forth and screamed, “ I am going to kill you!”

“Woooo. Boy does he sound angry?”

The crowd laughed again and began to throw different sized objects at the dangling cage.

“Sarge, either you give me the numbers or I pick them for you. And, I guarantee that you do not want that. So, what will it be?”

Lisa spoke up in the ear piece. “Daddy. 3 and 5. I think those will be good numbers.”

Marshall smiled. What was the meaning of these numbers and what kinds of horrors was he going to unleash by saying them aloud.

“Saaarrrgggeee? We're waiting.” Black Beard said in a singsong voice.

“Three and five.”

“THREE AND FIVE!” The crowd shouted like mocking parrots.

“Let the games begin!” Black Beard yelled.

“What do the numbers mean!?” Marshall screamed

A light shifted across the gym floor and engulfed a trembling figure Marshall immediately recognized as his daughter. She was muddy, holding a shotgun, and like she had said, there was a blindfold stuck over her eyes.

Black Beards voice boomed again across the gym floor.

“Three bullets and five corpses! Oh the fun. Fight for Life my dear. Good Luck.”