"Leave her alone, bastard!" Grizzly snarled, wrenching madly on his chains. "Touch her and I swear I'll cut you into bite-sized pieces!"

  "You're in no position to be making threats," Death Master mocked the hybrid. He took hold of Athena's chin and lifted her head."And you, my pretty, are an enigma. I can't for the life of me understand what your hairy lover-boy sees in you."

  A tremendous roar issued from Grizzly's throat, and he went wild, yanking on the chains in a frenzy, his pointed teeth exposed, his fingers clenching and unclenching.

  "Pay no attention to his temper tantrum," Death Master said to Athena. "He has the emotional temperament of a six year old."

  The titan wasn't the only one perplexed. Blade was surprised that Athena didn't pull her chin from Death Master's grip or tear into him verbally. Instead, she appeared utterly indifferent, to the point of being listless.

  Death Master let his hand drift onto her shoulder. "If you exhibited more spark, I might be tempted to take you to my tower to determine if you're talented where it really counts. As it is, I'd rather cuddle with Claire than you." He moved back and glanced at Blade. "Now, about the food—"

  "Take me," Athena suddenly cried out.

  Blade did a double take and saw Grizzly's rage abruptly subside.

  "What did you say?" Death Master asked, twisting to stare at her.

  Athena licked her lips. "Take me to your place. I'll show you how talented I am."

  "No!" Grizzly bellowed.

  Death Master's forehead creased as he gazed at her. "Let me get this straight. You want me to bed you."

  "Yes. On one condition."

  "And what might that be?"

  "You spare my life."

  Grizzly shook a fist at her. "Don't do it! You'll never be able to live with yourself."

  "Look who's talking," Death Master joked, then laughed with gusto. He scratched his chin and stepped near Athena once again. "I find it difficult to believe your offer is genuine."

  "It is," Athena said.

  "You realize there is no turning back once I remove your shackles?"

  "Yes."

  "There's nothing I like so much as a good lay. If you're any good at all, your life will be spared. Of course, you'll have to spend the rest of your days in my harem."

  Athena never hesitated. "I agree."

  "Very well," Death Master said and reached into a pocket for the keys.

  Grizzly hissed and shook his right fist. "I can't believe you're doing this!"

  "Me, neither," Blade added. "Please, Athena, reconsider. The stress has gotten to you; you don't know what you're doing."

  "I know perfectly well what I'm doing," Athena said.

  Death Master extended the keys and unfastened the shackle securing her left wrist. "Don't listen to these fools. They're not practical like you."

  "I'm begging you, Athena," Grizzly said.

  "A male should never grovel in front of a female," Death Master said, smirking. "Women never respect whiners." He undid her right shackle and moved to one side.

  Expelling a breath of relief, Athena smiled in gratitude and rubbed her wrists. "I hope I can repay you properly."

  "Don't worry. You will."

  Blade saw Grizzly bow his head and could readily imagine the turmoil the bear-man was feeling. His heart went out to him.

  "After you," Death Master said with a bow and motioned for Athena to precede him out of the door.

  "Gladly," the journalist replied and started to take a step. Her right foot came off the floor and kept rising, even as she rotated on the ball of her left, sweeping her foot around and into the titan's groin, hitting him where the kick would hurt the most.

  Complete shock registered on Death Master's face, and he doubled over, automatically clutching at his privates.

  Athena delivered another kick, this time to Death Master's knee, and caused him to stagger. She slid to his rear and kicked him behind the right knee, buckling his leg, and lunged for the Magnum on his right hip.

  Death Master was already clawing for the Desert Eagle on his left hip.

  "No!" Grizzly wailed.

  Athena almost made it. Her hands were closing on the Magnum's grips when Death Master's right elbow whipped back and struck her in the face, sending her sprawling. Frantically she pushed to her feet and saw Death Master twisting toward her, the other Desert Eagle in his hand. She had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and she wasn't close enough to kick the gun from his grasp. Her loving eyes darted to Grizzly at the very moment the Desert Eagle pointed at her forehead.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  That heartbeat in time would be engraved in Blade's memory for all eternity to come. He watched in slow motion, as it were, as Death Master's finger tightened on the trigger and the Magnum thundered in the restricted confines of the holding cell. He saw the tender affection on Athena's face, directed toward Grizzly, the millisecond before the heavy slug slammed into her forehead and flung her backward to smash into the wall. Her eyes stayed open as her body slowly sank down, her gaze still fixed on the hybrid she had so devoutly loved.

  The tableau froze as the gunshot echoed eerily.

  And then Grizzly vented a soul-wrenching cry of commingled anguish and rage. He tried to go to her and went berserk when he came to the limits of the chains. His body became a surging whirlwind, his arms thrashing, his legs pumping.

  Eight gunners ran into the cell, Nelson in the lead.

  Death Master stood, his visage a mask of hatred, and walked over to Athena. At point-blank range he emptied the Desert Eagle into her, then spun and exited without another word.

  The guards likewise departed.

  Blade had never felt so helpless in his life. He stared sadly at Athena's delicate, crumpled body, waves of torment beating at his brain. It was a trick! She'd never intended to sleep with the titan. Her ruse had been meant to obtain their freedom and she'd perished in the attempt. To the very last she'd been true to her love for Grizzly and her friendship with both of them. How could he have doubted her?

  For almost half an hour Grizzly vainly tried to break the chains. His motions became increasingly sluggish, his roars feebler and feebler, as time went on. Even his superb, artificially enhanced physique had limits, and when his fury spent itself, he collapsed, sagging to his knees with his brow resting on the stone floor.

  The Warrior couldn't think of any words that would lessen the hybrid's suffering. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, moisture gathering in the corners. His mind went blank and he lost all track of time. He barely stirred when four guards entered and removed Athena's body. Only when a strange sound filled the cell did he rouse himself and look around to discover the source.

  Grizzly was crying, sobbing in great gasps, his shoulders rising and falling, and he moaned as he cried a low, plaintive expression of profound agony.

  Blade nearly wept too. He held in his tears, though, preferring to channel his grief, to transform it into the fire of vengeance that would sustain him during the conflict to come. Thoughts of getting even with Death Master filled his head: a hundred and one ways of slaying the titan were graphically enacted in his mind's eye; and a fierce resolve every bit as steely as his chains girded him for the show-down. He didn't know exactly how he would accomplish the feat, but he was going to eliminate the titan and destroy Mesaville or die trying.

  The appointed hour arrived.

  Blade knew in advance that the games would soon begin. The noise of the crowd entering the arena filtered down to the holding cells and there was constant commotion in the corridor. He looked at Grizzly, who sat morosely contemplating empty air, and said, "It's almost time."

  Not a peep came from the hybrid. Not once in the intervening time since Athena's death had he spoken a word.

  The Warrior had tried to induce the bear-man to talk, but all his remarks fell on deaf ears. He'd also endeavored to persuade Grizzly to eat when food was brought, but the hybrid wouldn't touch his meals.

  Suddenly the door opened and in walked Nelson. Slung over his left shoulder was an M-16. Strapped around his waist were a pair of familiar Bowies. "It won't be long now, chumps. The boss is saving you clowns for the main event, which means you've got forty minutes or so until you can kiss your butts so long."

  "Any chance he'll put you in the arena with us?" Blade asked.

  "Eat dirt," Nelson said and departed, slamming the door behind him.

  The Warrior tried to break the chains one more time. As always they held. He sighed and decided to save his strength.

  "I want one thing understood."

  Blade turned, surprised by the softly spoken declaration, and found the bear-man staring at him. "What?"

  "I want one thing understood. Death Master is mine."

  "We're in this together."

  Grizzly stood, his voice lowering into a raspy rumble emanating from his chest. "Don't give me that. The son of a bitch killed the woman I loved. I'm taking him out and you'd better not get in my way."

  "Are you threatening me?" Blade asked in amazement.

  "I'm telling you how it's going to be."

  "You're not thinking clearly."

  "I don't need to think. Once I'm out in the arena all I have to do is kill, and that's my specialty, remember?"

  "We have a better chance of putting a permanent end to Death Master and his operation if we work together. We might even survive."

  "Survive?" Grizzly said, and laughed. "Who the hell wants to survive? I don't care if I live or die. All I want is to sink my claws into Death Master and feel his blood gush out over my hands."

  "Do you have a plan?"

  "Don't need one."

  "Then how do you propose to get close enough to use your claws?"

  "I've been in the arena scores of times. I know the layout and how the games are conducted. Since we're being saved for last, that means they'll take us in on the west side. The entrance to the tunnel I told you about is on the east side. Death Master and his entourage will be on a platform to the south. All around us in the stands will be the lowlives screaming for our blood," Grizzly said.

  "How high is the arena wall?"

  "Twenty feet."

  "Even you can't jump that high."

  Grizzly nodded. "I could if I had some help."

  "What kind of help?"

  The hybrid explained, and the two of them spent the next half hour discussing his idea and plotting to bring about the downfall of the lord of Mesaville. They were still conversing in hushed whispers when footsteps sounded outside and the cell door opened once again.

  "Are you ready to die?" Nelson baited them. Behind him came nine gunners. Five spread out to cover the prisoners from various angles while the remaining four attended to unlocking the shackles, then quickly stepped back and brought their own weapons to bear.

  Blade rubbed his sore, cut wrists, his eyes on his Bowies.

  "Move out!" Nelson barked, heading for the hallway. Four of the gunners trailed him while the rest brought up the rear, sandwiching the Warrior and the hybrid between them.

  The Warrior didn't bother to attempt to escape. He knew any try would be futile; the guards would easily mow him down. Everything now depended on what happened in the arena. His life hinged on the success or failure of the strategy he'd formulated with Grizzly.

  Walking beside the giant, the hybrid presented the picture of docile despair, his head hung low, his eyelids drooping.

  The party made three turns before reaching a pair of wide wooden doors where more guards awaited. From the other side of the doors came growling noises and the pathetic wails of a dying woman.

  Nelson moved over and opened a narrow, barred window set in the right-hand door at chest height. He leaned down and peered out, then said, "It won't be long. Ogorg is finishing up."

  Blade heard something eating greedily. There was loud crunching, probably the breaking of bones, mixed with an awful slurping and squishing and pronounced gulps. "Let me guess. Ogorg is one of Death Master's pets."

  "You got it," Nelson said, still peering through the window. "It's a sand worm. A big mother, too. Twenty feet long. Took the boss a hell of a long time to train the mother."

  "Which one of his pets will we face?" Blade asked.

  "I don't want to spoil the surprise," Nelson said, provoking laughter from the other gunners.

  "Are we allowed to take weapons into the arena?"

  Nelson turned, smirking. "Yeah. We give you a machine gun and a few hand grenades."

  There was more laughter. The guards evidently rated Nelson as a first-rate comedian.

  "I'd settle for my knives," Blade said.

  "No way, sucker. These are mine for life," Nelson gloated, patting the hilts. "The boss gave them to me because I do such great work."

  "Take good care of them. I expect to get them back soon."

  "Dream on, idiot"

  "Hey, Nelson," one of the gunners said. "What's with the freak? He looks as if he's ready to keel over."

  "The boss blew his bimbo away and fed the corpse to Sting," Nelson said. "The freak just went off the deep end. His brain couldn't take the strain."

  There were shouts from the arena and the unmistakable sliding of a heavy body—or thing—that gradually receded.

  Nelson gazed out the window again. "The boys are driving Ogorg down the tunnel. As soon as they've got him back in his pen, they'll rig the rope for the grand finale."

  "Rig the rope?" Blade repeated.

  "Yeah," Nelson said, turning. "The boss has saved his favorite pet for you, a pet that ain't easy to control, especially when it's first let out. It's killed a few guards who got careless. So a rope has been rigged up, tied around the bar to its pen and attached to a pulley hanging from the ceiling. When the boys pull on the rope from near the tunnel entrance, the bar lifts and the thing is free. It usually comes out snapping and stabbing, mad as hell, then goes into the arena to eat." He paused. "The thing is easier to manage after it's filled its gut; the boys can drive it back down with long poles then."

  "Has anyone ever fought this thing and won?"

  Nelson and the gunners cackled at the notion. "You don't stand a chance, dummy. Your best bet is to run until you drop."

  "Thanks for the tip."

  A loud voice shouted a command beyond the double doors. "Bring out the next contestants."

  "That's you two bozos," Nelson said and nodded at several guards, who promptly opened the doors. "Out you go."

  Blade walked forward into the glare of bright lights attached at regular intervals to the top of the inner arena wall. He blinked and squinted up at the hundreds of gang members flocking the stands. Boisterous hoots and boos greeted his entry, and many in the crowd took to calling him names that reflected adversely on his lineage and mental ability. He raised his right hand over his eyes, letting them adjust to the light, and pivoted to the south.

  Perched on a level with the top of the wall, its outer edge extending six feet over the rim, was the platform where sat Death Master, Lolita, Vank and Drazil, and the rest of the titan's inner circle, 14 in all. Four were women garbed in black leather.

  Blade heard a feral growl and glanced to his right to see Grizzly clenching his fists and trembling from suppressed rage while balefully eyeing those on the platform. "Not yet," he whispered. "Our timing must be perfect."

  The hybrid frowned, nodded once, and resumed his passive posture.

  "Let's move closer," Blade suggested, stepping to the south. On his left there was a gaping black hole in the arena wall, the mouth to the tunnel leading down to the containment pens for the pets. How long before the horror was unleashed?

  Death Master stood and strolled to the rim of the platform. He elevated his arms and a hush descended. "Friends and associates, we are about to enjoy the highlight of this edition of the games." He pointed at the Warrior and the bear-man. "You see before you two who infiltrated Mesaville with the sole intent of destroying us. You see before you the man known as Blade, the head of the infamous Freedom Force, a man who has killed more of our brothers than anyone else alive."

  The spectators broke into curses and general shouts of hatred:

  "I've heard of him!"

  "He wiped out the Devils!"

  "Kill the son of a bitch!"

  "Rip him to bits!"

  Death Master gestured and the crowd fell silent. "Beside him you see a former favorite in these games, the mutation named Grizzly. It turns out he is a close friend of Blade's. He is a spy, sent into our midst to gauge our defenses, our weaknesses."

  "The lying prick," Grizzly said under his breath.

  Predictably the throng vented their collective fury until the titan motioned.

  "This evening you'll feast your eyes on a real treat. I've saved my best pet until now—the one you all know is the deadliest of the lot—so that we can relish the sight of him tearing our enemies to pieces. Sit back, relax, chug some brewskies, and get set for a fight you'll be talking about years down the road."

  The crowd cheered enthusiastically.

  Blade halted 25 feet from the platform and rotated to face the tunnel mouth. None too soon. There was movement in the darkness, and a second later a primordial nightmare scuttled into the open.

  "Ladies and gentlemen!" Death Master shouted. "I give you the awesome might of Sting!"

  The audience went wild.

  Blade instinctively crouched and backed up, the short hairs at the nape of his neck tingling, his hands dropping to his empty sheaths.

  Sting had been aptly named. Ten feet high and 12 feet long, the creature was an enormous mutation, a black scorpion the size of an elephant. Pincers a yard long were held extended outward on either side of the grotesque head. The thing had eight crab-like legs. Its bulky body sported the arachnid equivalent of armor plating. But most horrific of all was its segmented tail. Tipped by a hooked poison stinger, it lay curled up over the scorpion's body.

  "Dear Lord," Blade said.

  "Don't let it spook you," Grizzly said.

  From the platform came a devilish laugh.

  The Warrior glanced over his shoulder at Death Master, who laughed even harder, and spied Nelson moving up next to the titan. The flunky must have hastened around to be on hand for a bird's-eye view of the proceedings. Perfect.

 

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