I absolutely refused to blemish mine.
Though I had been branded Soulless, I refused it.
I was a good person. I was a good person.
Everyone ran into the circle.
A sundry of death sprung out from their patient hands as bladed weapons flew and chopped and trounced. Blood confettied the air. Screams and shouts sung a reprise of ire and pain.
While they ran into each other on the ring of the alarm, Dig Graves stayed standing and grinning, looking at me across the land of warfare.
I looked back at him.
He opened his mouth. “Princess.”
“Excuse me.” I waved to a man who had just finished hacking at the chest of another. “I believe he is dead.” I splayed open my arms. “I am now available to be killed. Thank you.”
The man looked up at me, the machete in his hand dripping with blood pointed in my direction.
Dig Graves lost his stupid grin and watched another predator about to steal his prey. “Fuck!”
Before the man managed to enter my radius Dig Graves lunged and grabbed him by the arm.
I did not waste a moment to watch their skirmish and ran into the city.
The vacant streets sprouted weeds through the tarmac cracks and scatterings of broken glass. Occasional blemishes of blood like a butcher’s floor from years of Battles were fading on brick walls. I zig-zagged through buildings, around dumpsters and crates and past rusted cars.
I was careful not to leave footprints, walking only on tarmac or when dirt met my path, I slipped off my shoes and trod on objects.
Dig Graves may be a maniac and a serial killer, but he could not track where there were not footprints.
Good luck bastard.
Hours waned.
Satisfactorily, he was nowhere to be seen or heard. Neither was anyone else. Three prisons in total. I guessed close to six hundred inmates were in this year’s Execution. The morning of the Battle was usually the largest culling and from then people would be starting to spread out and make temporary accommodations elsewhere while they decided upon their next action. Food and water. It was left in certain places and needed to be found.
Neither of which I would be doing just yet.
All I really needed was water.
A hiding place and water for ten days was the greatest survival method in the Execution Battle. Unfortunately, I now had Tommy to think about. Finding him would take priority over hiding which now meant I needed more than just water. I needed food too. Food gave me energy to run, food gave me energy to look for him.
I also needed cigarettes.
I scouted around the side of a building and used a shard of mirror I had plied from a car to check there was no one around the other side of the corner.
Nothing.
It was quiet.
I walked out and hopped over to the next building finding a woman with a dagger in her hand. Both of us looked at each other in the space of the peace. Blood freckled over her chest; her hands shook from an uncontrolled fear.
“Good day to you.” I continued on my way.
She ran in the other direction.
Everyone would be looking for everyone.
