Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Dear guests. It is a pleasure to have so many of you join us. I promise you that what you will see in this amphitheatre tonight and in the years to come, is beyond your wildest imagination.”
As he continued, Tank’s brain struggled to cope with the fact that so many people were willing to travel and pay huge amounts of cash to see what was about to happen. He wasn’t aware of what was in store exactly, but he knew it would be something horrific. He wished there was a way to eliminate all the spectators in one go. Nuke them, right here in the middle of the woods where they felt safe from the grasp of so-called-civilization encroaching on their ‘fun’.
He composed himself by the time Apollo sat in his throne, and the screen switched to showing three men forced onto the dusty floor of the arena. Naked, they all first scrambled to run back inside, but a guard shocked the leader of the pack with a cattle prod and shut the only escape.
The spectators went crazy, like hyenas already sensing blood in the air, but their voices reached their heights when a low door opened on the other side, and six dogs entered the space tentatively. Tank’s stomach sank, but he stayed still, trying to forget that Clover was forced to watch this cruelty from among a crowd that reacted as if their favorite team was about to win the World Championship.
The animals must have been left hungry for days, because once they spotted prey, the grotesque spectacle turned into a gory bloodbath. Tank swallowed hard, sweating into his clothes as he kept his gaze on the strip of flesh where Apollo’s skin emerged from under his shirt. A single step would put them close enough to inject the poison, but Tank needed to pace himself and endure. If he wanted to minimize the risk to his own life, striking at the very end was his best bet.
Once the dogs had been fed, Apollo made everyone watch two rounds of men fighting each other, first one-on-one, then with a single person having to defend himself against ten opponents. What followed was a demonstration of medieval torture devices and their use, so by the time staff entered the arena to remove the contraptions and their victims, Tank was struggling with nausea.
Heat rose up his neck despite this being an outdoor venue, but he remained still, pretending he was wary of any danger to his boss. Boar had been through the kind of shit happening below. How he’d survived a whole four months of it and had emerged relatively unscathed was a mystery Tank did not want to dwell on. The depravity playing out below was much worse than he’d imagined, and he was letting it happen. For Clover. For their family.
A young woman, who worked for Apollo at this venue, entered the box but was stopped by Ben before she could have reached the boss. She raised her brows when Apollo gestured for them to let her through.
“The data you wanted, sir,” she said and offered Apollo a tablet, which he unlocked with a swipe of his finger. Blocks of text appeared on the screen, and Tank found himself wondering whether it was the profits from the event and all the gambling going on, but Apollo leaned back in his chair and picked up his drink as soon as the woman left.
“This one will be extra special,” Ben said, eyeing Tank with a wide grin. “You haven’t seen anything like it yet.”
“Much better than sports,” he said, still playing the game he so desperately wanted to win. His face hurt from smiling, but his efforts seemed to work, as Ben’s gray eyes twinkled with cruel joy.
They went silent when Apollo rose so fast his throne was close to falling over. “Goddamn! The albino, I think I see his face,” he said, sending Tank down a funnel of panic. He’d reached the point of no return, and if he tried to crawl back into safety, Clover might become the show’s next star attraction.
Tank’s heart dulled the noise as he reached into his pocket and took out the pen-syringe. He pulled on the clip to release the needle and put his thumb on the cap, ready to inject the poison the moment he got a chance. He stepped closer to Apollo, trying to stay focused under the extreme stress. He could not let him identify Clover or any of the others even if it meant his death.
“Where? Wh—?”
His arm twisted back so abruptly he dropped the syringe, and sharp pain shot all the way up his neck. Ben’s teeth and gums passed through his vision as he punched back, but the sight of a gun pointed straight at his head was the signal of his defeat.