Zombie survivor

[50] The real hunger games

The boys were herded into a small room and freed from their shackles, but the relief was short-lived as a guard shoved a pile of jerseys into their hands. Each one was numbered in bright, bold font across the back and chest.

Evan frowned as he held his up. "What is this, some kind of fucked-up PE class?"

Jean's brow furrowed as he examined his jersey. The fabric was stiff and rough, the number 07 printed on it. "No idea, but it's not gonna be good."

Luca sighed, slipping his own jersey over his head. His number, 10, was garish against the dull gray. "Bruh, this whole setup screams 'bad vibes.' It's like Squid Game, but worse."

Jordan muttered as he struggled into his jersey. "At least in Squid Game, the prize was money. What the fuck do we even get out of this?"

"Probably a funeral," Tyler said with a grin that wasn't at all reassuring as he slapped on his jersey, 12 printed in bold. "Y'know, if we're lucky."

The guards barked orders, and the boys were shoved toward a tunnel that opened into a blinding light. The roar of a crowd beyond made their stomachs churn as they stumbled forward.

When they emerged, the sight was staggering.

The former football stadium was packed, its stands filled to capacity with a raucous, jeering audience. Makeshift banners fluttered in the dusty wind, some scrawled with crude slogans like "Let the Games Begin" and "Blood for Glory!" The deafening roar of cheers and chants made it impossible to think straight. It was as if the entire world had gathered here to watch their misery.

In the center of the arena was a monstrous structure—a sprawling jungle gym built from twisted scrap metal, rusted car frames, and shattered concrete slabs. The jagged edges glinted under the harsh stadium lights, and the entire thing seemed like a cruel playground for death. Platforms, ladders, and tunnels were welded together haphazardly, creating a maze that loomed ominously in the middle of the field.

Evan squinted, trying to take it all in. "What the fuck is that? A post-apocalyptic jungle gym?"

"Looks more like a tetanus factory," Jordan muttered, his voice tinged with dread.

Luca shuddered. "I think I'd rather face zombies."

Jean scanned the crowd, his jaw tight. Something about the setup made his stomach twist. "Whatever this is, it's not just for show. Look at how hyped they are."

The boys were shuffled into the arena along with eleven other people, a motley group of rough-looking survivors ranging in age and build. Some looked ready to fight, their faces hard and determined. Others seemed as confused and terrified as the boys.

As they took their places in the arena, Jean's eyes flicked upward toward the VIP booth that overlooked the stadium. His heart sank as he spotted familiar faces. Brittney, Chloe, and Ms. Heather sat in plush chairs, dressed in gaudy outfits that screamed exploitation. Brittney leaned forward, waving flirtatiously at the crowd while Chloe scrolled on what looked like an old tablet, clearly disinterested. Ms. Heather, on the other hand, looked pale and uncomfortable, her hands gripping the armrests as she glanced nervously around.

Jean's voice was low, his fists clenched at his sides. "They're up there."

Evan followed his gaze, his jaw dropping. "What the hell? Why are they in the VIP box? Brittney looks like she's enjoying this shit!"

Jordan shook his head, his face twisting with disgust. "Of course she is. Probably loving the attention. Meanwhile, we're down here waiting to get turned into gladiator meat."