Darren Wearmouth - Critical Path

Gregor kept his focus on the two internal guards. Both needed to be taught a lesson.

Powerful hands grabbed both of his shoulders and dragged him back, threw him down on the filthy surface and dropped the sword next to him.

He scrambled to a crouch, shielded his eyes from the sun, and looked around.

Hundreds of people and aliens stood on steps above a wall surrounding the fighting surface. Watching him. Aimee sat on a high chair in a sectioned-off area. She casually wafted a fan in front of her face.

Charlie Jackson sat next to her. He looked away when Gregor attempted eye contact. Coward.

A squat man dressed in a brown jumpsuit rose from his chair. The crowd’s buzz of anticipation fell silent.

Gregor used the sword to haul himself up. He limped to below the sectioned-off area and pointed the tip of the blade at Aimee, then Charlie. “You’re next, bitch. Then you, Judas Jackson. I’ll cut your throat from ear to ear.”

The collective gasp that followed provided some small comfort. Aimee covered her face with the fan; Jackson continued to look away. Gregor considered throwing the sword at him. How could he sit there and watch him being butchered by an alien?

“People of Unity,” the squat man said, “for thirty years our town has been a beating heart of human and croatoan peace and friendship. We have become the shining beacon in this dark world.”

Gregor laughed as loudly as he could. Defiance welled up inside him. They would not dictate proceedings. “You idiots.”

The squat man turned to Aimee. She relaxed back in her chair and casually gestured for him to continue.

“This man wanted to kill our leader and destroy Unity. He does Augustus the traitor’s bidding. We will crush our foes to maintain our freedom.”

A quiet round of applause and clicks followed.

If they wanted a show, Gregor would give them one. He pointed his sword at Charlie. “Did I ever tell you how much I enjoyed strangling your beloved Pippa?”

Charlie’s head snapped around, and he focused on Gregor.

Gregor smiled. “That’s right. Now I’ve got your attention. I squeezed the life out of her with my bare hands and loved every minute of it. You should have seen her face.”

Jackson’s face contorted into a grimace, and he bolted up from his chair.

Charlie felt a surge of anger and balled his fists. Gregor confirmed what he’d suspected for nearly three decades. He’d killed Charlie’s ray of light, Pippa.

The woman who had nurtured him at Quatenary Productions all those years ago and survived with him during the early part of the invasion.

He’d found her dead in a cave, with marks around her neck, leaving him alone and heartbroken until he found Denver. Gregor’s gang had already hooked up with the aliens, although they didn’t tell Charlie back then. They’d pretended to be survivors until their farm had been constructed. Gregor had been the prime suspect. He’d constantly had his eye on Pippa.

Charlie swiped the fan away from Aimee’s face. Two guards stepped toward him and aimed at point-blank range. “Let me fight him to get both of us justice.”

“I’m not risking the mission. You stay here and watch. We’ve brought out a retired champion to deal with Gregor. He hasn’t got a chance.”

“No, he’s mine.” Charlie’s body trembled, and he took a couple of breaths. “Screw the mission.” The others would just have to wait a short while for him. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Before Aimee could respond, he leapt across to the edge of the viewing platform, slid down the rough wall to the fighting area, and briefly dangled to weigh up the size of the drop.

Two yards.

Charlie’s boots thudded against the dirt, and he turned to face Gregor.

“Guards, guards!” he heard Aimee shout.

Gregor limped toward him, using the sword as a walking stick. “We always knew it would come to this, Charlie. Get armed and let’s do it.”

Charlie scowled at him. “I always knew it. You piece of shit.”

The internal gate creaked open and two men ran out. One aimed at Gregor; the other reached within five yards of Charlie. “You need to come with me.”

“Tell your boss that all bets are off unless she lets me do this.”

The guard jerked his rifle toward the gate. “Get moving or I shoot.”

Charlie groaned. “If you shoot, you’ll end up in here fighting a turtle. I’m too important to your boss.”

“Move your ass. Now.”

“No,” Charlie said and firmly waved him away.

The guard glanced up at Aimee and returned through the gate. A hushed silence filled the arena, only punctuated with an occasional cough or click.

He eyeballed Gregor again. Blood crusted the gangster’s light blue shirt, and he winced with every movement. They must have given him a beating in the cells, and he would also be starved of root.

“About time you showed balls again,” Gregor said.

Charlie narrowed his eyes. “You bastard.”

He remembered Pippa running into their office, bursting with excitement about finding a strange blue bead. Nothing would take the smile off her face. He thought he would spend the rest of his life with her. Gregor took her away.

“Very well,” Aimee called down. “You have your wish, but don’t be surprised if we shoot him.”

A guard next to her threw down a broadsword. It spun in the air and landed in the dirt with a thump, close to Charlie’s boots. He picked it up in a two-handed grip and raised it in front of his chest. The thing felt heavy but manageable, especially against a man in Gregor’s state.

Gregor screwed up his face and held his sword above his head. “Come on, then.”

Charlie growled, ran at him and swung. Gregor brought his sword forward to fend off the blow, and their blades clanked together. Charlie pulled back for another swing. Gregor staggered back and clutched his thigh.

Seeing Charlie advance, he raised his sword in a one-handed grip to deflect the blow again. That wouldn’t be good enough this time.

Charlie’s thrust rammed Gregor’s sword into the side of his own head. He snarled and dropped to one knee. Blood ran from a deep cut on the side of his head. The crowd roared.

The sword fell out of Gregor’s shaking hand. He squinted at Charlie through bloodshot eyes. “Don’t entertain them. Finish it.”

For a brief moment, Charlie felt sorry for him. Those thoughts were quickly pushed aside by an image of Pippa’s cold body in that cave.

“This is for Pippa,” Charlie said.

He tightened his grip, lunged forward, and thrust the blade through Gregor’s chest.

Gregor gasped and stared into Charlie’s eyes. A thick stream of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

Charlie pulled the blade free and crouched in front of him. “Why did you do it, Gregor?”

“I’m… glad it was… you,” he said in a quiet voice.

Charlie frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He coughed, blood rolling down his chin. “Didn’t want it to be those…”

“It was you. I know it. You didn’t say those things to avoid being killed by an alien.” But Charlie saw the truth in Gregor’s eyes and knew then that he hadn’t killed Pippa. All this was just to get him to be the one to end his life.

Gregor smiled, blood glistening in the cracks of his rotten teeth. His eyes glazed over, and he lifelessly slumped to his side.

Charlie looked up to the silenced crowd and roared with anguish.

Mike wiped sweat from his face and tightened the restraining bolt with one last push on the wrench. He leaned up, squinting with the pain in his ankle and back.

To quote Danny Glover, he was most definitely getting too old for this shit.