James Axler – The Mars Arena

“Want to do it?” Connrad asked Dean.

“Up to you. You’re in charge.” Dean tried to play it the way his dad would, imagining his father in his shoes, willing himself to step into his dad’s way of thinking. It was all about here and now, living to take one more breath and not regretting what he had to do to take it.

Connrad passed the Mossberg through the bars.

Dean took it, keeping his hand out of the trigger guard. The gun felt solid, dependable. He thought about the one round in the magazine, wondering if it was really there.

“Go ahead and do it,” the baron urged, pointing the Detonics at Dean.

Slowly Dean brought the shotgun to bear on the baron’s chest. He peered intently at the man over the barrel, neither of them backing off.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Dean continued to stare across the length of the shotgun at Baron Vinge Connrad, not letting himself feel anything. Several of the baron’s sec men started forward, drawing their weapons. He ignored them; they would all be too late.

“Stay back!” Connrad ordered.

The men froze at once.

“What are you going to do, kid?” the baron asked.

“Depends.”

“On what?” Connrad didn’t seem afraid at all. The pistol stayed on target, not moving.

“Whether you’re a slaver,” Dean replied, struggling to keep his voice from breaking. “I got no wish to be a slave. Rather die. Guess we could find out who’s faster.”

“You’d be dead.”

“And free.”

“If you believe in any kind of life after this one,” Connrad said. “Do you?”

“Don’t know. Mebbe if I’m fast enough, we could go see together.” Dean forced himself to keep from shaking. His finger stayed away from the trigger.

Connrad laughed. “God, but you’re a mean kid. I could have sired you myself. I’m no slaver. Got some chilling work for you to do. After that you go free. My word on it.”

“If I told you to open this door, would you?” Dean asked.

Connrad shook his head. “No. I didn’t get where I am giving in to other people.”

Dean nodded. “Didn’t think so. But I wanted to make my point.” He shifted the shotgun back to cover the phys-ed teacher. “Move your man back. Way you got this barrel chopped off, spread’s going to get him, too.”

Connrad waved Saunders off. The sec man stepped backward, but kept his pistol lined up on the phys-ed teacher’s head.

Pulling the metal stock into his shoulder and thrusting the abbreviated muzzle through the bars, Dean covered Solomon. There was still some question whether the weapon was actually loaded. It might all be a setup to scare the phys-ed teacher. Dean prepared himself all the same, knowing he was willing to take the man’s life for how he’d betrayed them.

He curled his finger around the trigger.

Solomon broke and tried to run.

Dean squeezed the trigger, riding out the recoil. The double-aught buckshot erupted from the muzzle and caught the man in midstride, knocking him flat at once, ripping his flesh to shreds.

“You killed him!” Ethan Perry screamed as Solomon kicked out his final few seconds of life. “You crazy bastard!”

Still in motion, Dean swung the shotgun on Connrad, catching the man by surprise. He squeezed the trigger, aiming directly at the man’s head. The hammer fell with a click.

Connrad didn’t even flinch. “Empty.”

“See that,” Dean said.

“Even if there’d been a shell in the chamber, you wouldn’t have gotten out of the cage alive.”

Dean made himself smile. “You said there was only one round. Had to find out if your word is worth anything. If it wasn’t, better to get the dying over with now.”

Connrad shook his head and laughed. “You got balls, kid, I’ll give you that. You and me are going to do just fine.” He held out a hand for the shotgun.

Dean passed it across, glancing briefly at Solomon’s corpse. He felt something, but he didn’t let the feeling grow. He was going to have to stay hard, mean, if he wanted to live.

“You other boys,” the baron said, “listen up.”

Perry kept screaming angry curses.