Page 16

“Are you okay, Lori?” Jonah asks as he hovers on top of me.

I had gotten lost in my own thoughts, drifting away from him.

“Sorry, I was…thinking.”

“Thinking.” Jonah pulls out of me and rolls over to his side.

“No, it’s okay. You can finish.” My voice is monotone.

I can’t seem to fake the synthetic concern I usually invoke when he is upset.

I no longer care to hide it anymore.

“It’s not okay, Lori. For the past month, you’ve been so distant. I can tell you aren’t enjoying sex anymore.”

I can’t help but laugh at Jonah’s revelation.

My sarcasm speaks for me, saying, “Oh? So you have noticed my misery?”

“Yes. Of course I have. You are my girlfriend. I love you and hate seeing you so sad all the time.”

Okay.

Now I’m pissed. I roll out of bed, not wanting to be anywhere near Jonah, and pull on my gray prison garb.

I should just walk out the door and leave him guessing as to why I’m acting so “sad” but I can’t hold it in anymore.

“You love me?” I shout.

“Yes. You know I love you.”

“No, Jonah. You don’t love me. You haven’t loved me since the day you chose this place over me. That’s the day I realized I don’t love you either.”

Jonah has the balls to look heartbroken.

Maybe he is. Maybe he truly didn’t see this coming, just like he can’t see how messed up everything is in this bunker.

That he can’t see how cruel Doctore is to anyone, including his precious Praetorian Guard.

Meanwhile, the women, children, and men who are unable to offer their physical services to Novus Seclorum are treated like cattle.

We have no freedom here.

Sacrifice. That’s what Doctore said when I first met him.

We all need to sacrifice for the greater good of humanity.

“How can you not see my pain and anger, Jonah? How can you sit there and pretend that everything is okay? My body was ripped to shreds in the arena. I didn’t see you for months while I was being monitored, tested, and put back together in the lab. You have no idea what I go through in the arena or the lab because you are never there to see it. And I know Doctore will do that to me again, just to see what will happen. Even if I give him my oath.”

“Lori, you don’t understand—”

“Don’t understand? I’m a test subject. An enslaved gladiator. A captive. And you are a brainless soldier in his empire. This new world he is trying to create. A world I cannot, no, will not accept.”

Tears stream down my face as I try with all my might not to ugly cry in front of Jonah.

He takes my silence to mean that I’m done, that I’ve gotten all my feels out.

Grabbing the pair of boxer briefs from his chair, Jonah pulls them on and walks over to me.

When he attempts to wrap his arms around my body, I push him away.

“No. Jonah. No.” I keep him an arm’s length away from me as I say, “We are done. I can’t do this anymore.”

I spin around and sprint out the door.

When I don’t hear his footsteps follow me, the last remaining pieces of my heart wither away.

Jonah gives me space for the next few days.

He even takes his meals at a different time to avoid seeing me.

Good. As I walk the busy halls of the bunker that have been my home for what feels like forever, people stop and stare at me.

The unkillable gladiator.

Doctore’s favorite lab rat.

These past few days have been…

peaceful. I’ve been left alone.

No escorts. No tests.

No fights. When Jonah knocks on my door, for a moment I think I see the boy I fell in love with.

When I look around him, there are two guards.

The two guards who are my usual escort to the arena.

This is a first. Jonah has never been to the arena to see me fight.

At least, not since we were forced to fight together and then against one another.

As I follow Jonah down the long hallway leading to the staircase, I can’t help but ask, “Are you going to actually watch me get torn apart this time or go back to your corner like a good little pet and pretend that everything is okay?”

Jonah doesn’t respond, staying focused on the task at hand.

But one of the guards behind me punches me in the back of the skull, making me fall to my knees.

Someone pulls on my braided hair, lifting me back up to my feet.

Just when I’m about to throw punches, I feel a soft touch on my arm.

Jonah.

He pulls me behind him and addresses to the two guards who attacked me.

“Were you ordered to subdue the test subject? Or escort her to the Colosseum?”

My head snaps up to look at Jonah’s rigid face.

Did he seriously just call me a test subject ?

“No, sir. But she spoke out of turn and—”

“I don’t believe I asked you for an explanation. You are dismissed. As are you, Georgie.”

The two guards answer with a “Yes, sir,” and turn to walk in the opposite direction like good little soldiers.

“Are you okay, Lori?” Jonah asks, letting go of my arm.

“Oh, am I Lori now? Not test subject?”

Jonah’s face softens as he answers, “I’m sorry. That is what you are here and how I must treat you.”

I nod, trying not to care.

My heart has already shattered.

There’s nothing more to break.

“Why did they call you sir?”

“They are my command. I have a small legion of men now.”

“Congrats,” I say dryly.

Then remember what Doctore said.

How he thought I would ask for him to give Jonah a promotion.

Is that what this is?

“Yeah.” Jonah drags a hand over his head, pulling his thick, brown hair between his fingers.

“Let’s go.”

We walk in silence the whole way upstairs, all ten flights to the surface.

There’s an elevator, but I’ve only been taken up that way once.

When we reach the exterior door, Jonah pulls out a key.

A key. Jonah has a key to this place now.

He can get us out. I want to say this to him, but then I remember what Jonah has become.

He doesn’t want to leave this place.

He has become this place.

Jonah opens the door and ushers me through.

As my eyes adjust to the harsh sunlight, I notice Jonah didn’t have the same reaction.

Perhaps he’s allowed outside more often than I am.

Making sure I’m secure in the back seat, Jonah slides into the driver’s seat of the black SUV that is parked just outside the exterior door of the bunker.

The chariot that will bring me to my death.

And yet, death never sticks around long enough for me to die.

“Are you not afraid I might jump out of the car?” I ask, staring at him in the rearview mirror.

“I’ve got the child locks on,” Jonah locks his eyes on mine for a second before turning his attention to the dirt road.

The Colosseum is only a five-minute drive away, but it’s much safer by car.

Another reason only the powerful and cunning can go to the games.

The poor and unfortunate would not have the means to get there.

We park in front of the back entrance to the Colosseum.

An old high school football field converted into a gladiatorial death pit.

I wait for Jonah to open my door.

When he does, I don’t take the hand he offers, but I wait for him to close the door before walking toward the stadium.

Jonah brings me all the way into the armory where I choose a weapon and silently wait for my entrance to be announced.

A spear is my weapon of choice today.

Not my favorite, but I don’t have plans to last long in today’s fight.

I only hope that my pseudo death will be quick.

“I wish I could give you a different world, Lori.” Jonah breaks the silence, a silence I thought I had to myself.

“But this is the one we have.”

There are so many things I should say to Jonah.

He was my friend, my boyfriend.

Hell, he was so much more than those things.

But that was so long ago.

Today, I am angry with him.

I don’t know if I will ever not be angry with him.

He needs to feel that anger.

He needs to understand.

I want him to feel my pain.

“And I wish I could still love you for who you were and not hate you for what you’ve become,” I say, before turning toward the arena.

My eyes immediately find Doctore’s as I walk onto the arena’s floor, the compact sand squishing between my toes.

He rises from his seat in the VIP section where a platform has been built close to the walls of the pit, just like a Roman emperor.

As I stare into Doctore’s dark eyes, he smiles at me again, lifting his arms to signal for the doors to be opened.

I don’t need to turn around to know that there’s a horde of freshies behind me.

But there is something odd about the sound of their groaning.

My grip on the spear tightens when I turn around to see that all eight freshly made zombies are from the group of orphans I have taken care of in the bunker for the last few years.

I know my scream will lead them right to me, but I don’t care.

I won’t die. But Doctore will.

As I lift my spear, his smile fades.

I throw the spear with all my strength.

Just before a set of teeth sinks into my arm, the spear sinks into Doctore’s stomach.

I smile. Even as more teeth tear at my skin, I smile through my screams because I got him.

I put fear into the eyes of a fearless man.