Pitt Fight
"Be careful, will you?"
"I am. This isn't easy. Now hold still."
"Easy for you to say. I mean, I know I said life's an adventure, but getting your head blown off is one adventure too far, mate."
Ferris ignored Sid's comment, and concentrated on the lock of the slave collar. The collar was a band of metal hinged on one side, and locked in place around the neck with a mechanical lock. What made the collar really dangerous though, and the source of Sid's worry, was the small package of explosives built into the collar, set to go off if it was tampered with, or if the slave tried to escape.
Gently, he eased the bobby pin around the lock, feeling for the tumblers that would release it. It was tricky work, made all the more difficult by Sid's constant twitching.
Ferris tapped him on the shoulder. "You keep moving like that, and you will loose your head. Do you want to escape or not?"
"Sorry mate," Sid replied, glancing at him sheepishly. "It's just the thought of all that explosive strapped around my neck. Makes me nervous."
"It's not all that much, really. The metal collar focuses the blast so it just blows your head off."
Sid rolled his eyes. "Yeah, thanks. Really comforting."
There was a bang at the door. Both men froze, and Ferris removed his bobby pin from the collar's lock. He slipped it into a hiding place inside his boot. It had taken the better part of a week to find a pin that would work. Losing it was not something he really wanted to chance.
"It's time." A female voice called. Her job done, she walked away, her footsteps receding into silence.
"Oh joy," Sid said. 'You hear that? It's time."
"The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can try to escape."
They left their tiny shared accommodation, shutting the door behind them. Not that it would make much of a difference here – neither of them had anything worth stealing.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Oh, speaking of, I overheard that the old steelyard is riddled with tunnels. Might even be one that leads out of here, or at least back to the train line."
"Where'd you hear that?" Ferris asked as they walked through the warren of buildings.
"One of the girls down in the mill. The Raiders like to send slaves out there to fetch any abandoned steel ingots. Place is infested with troggs, which is why they don't go looking themselves."
Ferris glanced over at his companion. "A girl down in the mill?"
"Yep. Very helpful, she was." Sid replied with a devilish grin.
Ferris rolled his eyes. After sharing a room with him for the past two weeks, he'd gotten used to Sid's idiosyncrasies. Somehow, despite his status as a slave, Sid had made quite a number of acquaintances, even with some of the Raiders.
"You reckon you can get us on the work detail?"
Sid shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem. I think Pippa's running the scavenger teams. She'll get us on."
"Pippa? No, wait, I don't want to know."
Ferris had no idea how he'd managed it, but Sid was proving to be a resourceful companion. He'd certainly made the past two weeks in the Pitt tolerable, but with the passing of each day, Ferris could feel himself getting more and more agitated. He had to escape, and soon.
They walked deeper into the Pitt, heading down into the lower levels. They left behind the open, hazy orange sky behind, moving along cold, dank corridors. The walls were slick with mildew and lichen. Lights had been strung across the ceiling, providing little pools of dim light, whilst the light bulbs themselves hung just at head height from power cables, bright little hazards for them to dodge around. As with the rest of the Pitt, centuries of detritus had gathered into the corners, adding an unnatural curve to the base of the walls.
Few people came down this way, only those selected by the Raiders, sometimes fellow Raiders, oftentimes slaves given a chance to win their freedom. If they were lucky to survive.
Ferris and Sid emerged into a small chamber, lined with lockers. There was a door on the opposite side, a thick slab of metal with a wheel lock in the centre. More lights were fixed to the walls, some flickering, producing a decent enough illumination to light the chamber.
Sid nodded to the Raider leaning against the wall beside the metal door. "Alright, Larkin?"
The Raider nodded back and pushed himself away from the wall. "Not bad. Piles givin' me bother though."
"Oh? Y'know, I think I might know someone back topside who might have something for that. I'll see what I can do."
Larkin brightened, his mouth splitting into a wide grin, revealing several lost teeth. "Much appreciated, friend. You sure you don't want to tell me who now? You know, in case you don't come back out?"
Sid chuckled. "What and give away my source? You kidding me?"
"Worth a try though." Larkin said, shrugging.
"You should have more faith in me. Besides, I got my best mate here," he slapped Ferris on the back to an accompanying grimace. "Best shot in the wastelands."
Larking gave Ferris an appraising look. "What's your weapon?"
"Assault rifle. Also pretty good with a pistol."
"That so, huh." Larkin turned to one of the lockers. The door creaked as he opened it and peered inside. "Well, afraid you're all outta luck, pal. This is all we got left." He threw a pistol at Ferris.
He caught it deftly. It was a revolver, and for a second he hoped he'd gotten lucky, and been given a .44 magnum. No such luck. A .32 calibre, break action. "Yeah, great."
Larkin turned to Sid. "Got the gun you were after."
"Fantastic," Sid replied, taking the weapon, a combat shotgun. He ejected the drum magazine, checking the mechanism before slotting it back in place with a click, before slinging it over his shoulder.
A light came on over the metal door.
"Looks like they're ready for you." Larkin spun the door release, and with a grunt, heaved the door open. Beyond was a short corridor, formed from the interior of a massive concrete pipe. A gate blocked the other end.
"What?" Sid asked, at a look from Ferris. Behind them, the metal door shut with a low rumble.
Ferris shook his head. "I don't know how you do it. You have these people, both slaves and Raiders, eating out of your hands. By rights, Larkin should've given you whatever piece of shit weapon he had. But you managed to get him to give you exactly what you wanted instead."
"It's a gift," Sid shrugged.
"Too fucking right it is. Give you enough time, and you'd probably be running this place."
"But who'd want that? Too much stress, mate. I like visiting places. Got no ties to one place."
Ferris turned his gaze to the area beyond the gate. It was a large room, carved out of the bedrock foundations of the Pitt, and easily thirty metres across, set up almost like an obstacle course, Chunks of concrete and broken sections of iron pipes littered the arena. One corner had been given over to a bubbling, muddy, radioactive pool, barrels of waste half buried in the quagmire. An easy enough hazard to avoid, but it cut down the size of the arena, and not a place you'd want to have your back to. On the other side, he could see a pipe similar to the one he and Sid were standing in, its broken end sticking out of the arena wall. Across parts of the rough floor, he spotted a number of nozzles poking up. He frowned, trying to work out what they were for, then dismissed them.
His eyes shifted upwards. There was no ceiling, the top of the chamber capped with a chain-linked fence, and held in place by a web work of metal support struts. People were standing on it, waiting. The familiar sound of machinery drifted down into the chamber. Then it twigged. They were beneath the mill.
Once, the arena had probably been some sort of pumping chamber for the city's waste disposal system. But that had been centuries and another civilisation ago. The raiders had discovered it when the roof collapsed, leaving a thirty metre wide hole in their mill. At first, the fence had been put up to prevent any workers from accidently falling down the hole. They had since found an altogether different purpose for it.
The gate clicked and drew back out of site.
"Time for action, I guess." Sid muttered. He clicked off the safety on his shotgun. Ferris followed suit, cocking his revolver's hammer.
They entered the arena proper, back to back. Weapons held ready. Above them, the spectators erupted in cheer.
The pitt fight had begun.
On the other side of the chamber, the gate blocking the other pipe slid upwards. Ferris dived behind a broken pillar of concrete half again his size. He aimed his pistol at the dark mouth of the pipe. Opposite, Sid did the same, aiming his shotgun.
For several seconds, nothing happened. Ferris was beginning to think that it was some Raider joke.
The inside of the pipe lit up with a muzzle flash. He yelped in surprise, bullets whizzing past his head. Several ricocheted off his cover, blasting off sharp slivers of concrete.
Three men came striding out of the pipe, and Ferris found himself cursing Larkin. All three wore heavy armour, metal plates riveted to a black body suit, and reinforced biker helmets. Blades had been welded onto the plates at the knuckles and on the vambraces. They would make wicked close quarters weapons. Two carried assault rifles, whilst the third sported a double barrel shotgun.
And all Ferris had was a revolver, and five shots. He looked over at Sid. His companion grinned.
The man must be insane, Ferris thought. They were about to fight for their lives, against superior opponents, and the lunatic was happy! He let out a calming breath. You survived going toe-to-toe with a deathclaw someone you thought was a friend set on you. If you can survive that, you can survive this.
Ferris gestured at Sid, silently passing on instructions. He nodded in agreement. Sid slipped round the side of his cover.
He counted to two. Ferris surged up. The three Raiders had kept pretty much together as they entered the arena, figuring that they could beat the two slaves by force rather than tactics. They were three metres away. Ferris took aim at the far right hand Raider, carrying the shotgun. The pistol jerked in his hand as he fired two shots. The first hit the Raider in his shoulder pad. He staggered under the impact. The second was a lucky shot. It hit the Raider in his lower right leg, just below the armour. It blew through his knee. The Raider collapsed to the ground, the leg no longer able to support him. He fell onto one of the nozzles.
The body jerked. The abdomen began to swell. A jet of fire burst through the Raider's stomach, blasting high into the air. The two others dived out of the way.
The jet cut off. Seeing his chance, Ferris dived for the shotgun. His hands closed on the worn, wooden stock. He rolled and came up on one knee, bringing the shotgun in line. He fired both barrels. The closest Raider, picking himself up, took the blast in the chest. His body flew backwards and slumped against a mound of rubble.
Ferris swung the shotgun to the other Raider. Belatedly, he realised he'd already fired both barrels. The Raider stared at Ferris, still uselessly pointing the shotgun. He brought up his rifle.
Ferris squeezed both eyes shut, waiting for the killing shot.
There was a terrible boom.
He was still alive. Ferris opened his eyes. The Raider was lying on his front, dead, a smoking hole in his back, the armour around the edge of the hole ragged.
Sid stood over him, cradling his shotgun. He was grinning down at Ferris.
"Forget about me?" He offered a hand.
Ferris took the hand, and pulled himself to his feet. He picked up one of the assault rifles. It was in pretty good condition, and certainly better than his old rifle. Chinese, he reckoned. Shame he wouldn't be able to keep it. Overhead, the small crowd of spectators were cheering and stamping their feet.
"Maybe."
Sid chuckled. "You're one crazy hard bastard, you know? The way you took out that Raider then shot the other. I mean, fuck! I blinked and nearly missed it!"
"Thanks," he said, shifting uncomfortably. "Come on, let's get out of here."
They returned to the entrance room, and a grinning Larkin.
"That was some fightin' boys. Never seen anything like it. Can see why the bossman wanted you two in the arena."
Ferris made to hand the rifle back to Larkin, only for the Raider to shake his head.
"Nah, you keep it. Spoils of victory. Keep this up, and you'll win your freedom in no time."
Ferris thanked the man. He and Sid made their way back to their quarters in Downtown, nodding to a few other slaves, hard at work chopping up metal girders. Even the slave master waved in greeting at them.
"If that's what we have to do to win our freedom, count me out," Ferris said, once they were back in their room. He flopped down on his mattress.
"You want me to get us into the steelyard detail then?"
Ferris nodded. "We've got guns now."
"Still got these collars though. Not gonna do us much good if we still have these on."
"I need somewhere quiet to work to get them off, somewhere no Raiders are going to disturb us."
"I think I know just the place."
"Yeah?"
"Yup," Sid said, putting his hands behind his head. "The steelyard."
A/N: Review please!