Zombie Fight Night: Battles of the Dead Read Online Free PDF Page A

you?”
No comment.
“Then what’s the problem?”
    Mick pressed his lips together, then softly said, “No problem.” He took a deep breath then exhaled slowly. It was time to choose. He grabbed his Controller from the back of the chair in front of him and scrolled to see the info released about the next fight. “Hm.”
“You’re telling me,” Jack said, eyes glued to his own Controller.
“What do you think?”
“You know the rules.”
    “Sorry.” Mick again pressed his lips together. Blood Bay Arena rules were that you spoke to no one about your bet. They had eyes and ears everywhere. Get caught choosing because of someone else’s choice, or because you have someone on the inside, or get input from someone because they’ve seen one or more fighters on the roster fight already—never mind a number of other things—and not only did you automatically lose your bet, you had to pay back double.
    Sterpanko didn’t tolerate cheaters.
    Only guys up to their hair in debt with him, Mick thought absentmindedly.
    The next fight could go any number of ways. Well, two, technically. Either someone won or they lost, but how they won or lost was up in the air and that was a factor in betting as well. You could opt for just a simple straight win-or-lose when choosing your fighter; you could also choose whether you thought they would cream the other guy; and you could also choose how long the fight would last—all for bonus money.
    Mick decided that for now he’d stick with what was simple: someone wins, someone loses. How it came about was up to them.
    I’ve taken enough chances as it is, he thought.
    The nacho guy came by. Mick set down his Controller on his lap and handed the guy his card. The nacho guy swiped the card on his handheld machine and waited for the transaction to go through.
    “Sorry, but it’s declined,” the guy said.
    “I see,” Mick said. Guess Sterpanko doesn’t want me to eat. No sense asking him to try it again. He held out his hand for the card. “Never mind. Thanks.” The guy handed it back to him then wandered up the aisle to someone else whistling at him.
    “I could have spotted you a couple bucks, you know,” Jack said.
    Why Jack was offering to help him out, Mick didn’t know, especially since the guy was a bit of a jerk earlier. “Thanks, anyway, but I’m all right.”
“Well, just let me know, yeah?”
“Sure.”
Mick’s stomach rumbled. He shifted in his seat. He glanced at the Controller, thought for a moment, then placed his bet.
Foot stomps and clapping filled the arena as fans got ready for another round.
“Here we go,” Jack said.
“Yeah, here we go,” Mick replied.
The lights went out.
     
     
    8
    Thai Fighter vs Zombie
    Bet: $25,000
    Owing: $816,000
     
     
    T ep Baharn closed his eyes and got ready. He’d done this a hundred times before, each time demanding a courage no normal human being had within himself. Years of training and discipline only took you so far. Some things, some opponents, took more than just courage. They took the conquest of fear. Especially now, here in the cage, about to take on a monster yet again.
    But this was what he was—a fighter, born as one, destined to die as one, whether here in the cage or as an old man all bent up and worn out from years of exchanging blows with opponents from beyond the grave.
    After the rise of the dead, then after they fell, there was nothing left. No one left. His family had died in the attacks. His friends were gone. He had nothing. Nothing but the skills that saw him through the zombie invasion: hands and feet, elbows and knees. Though revenge was part of why he fought for Mr. Sterpanko, the main reason was to quench the inner need to simply tear apart what he could with his bare hands, a need he discovered deep within himself when it was just him, open land and a million undead.
He opened his eyes. The arena was dark.
The buzzer screamed and the lights shot on.
The iron ring suddenly shone bright then slid