Infraterra

Chapter 1

In that moment, there were only two things I feared. The first was that the six foot five, two hundred and sixty pound guy across from me was going to make my inevitable trip to hell happen a whole lot sooner than I would have liked. The second was that I firmly believed hell was the place I would be going.

Jaco's meaty fist whooshed toward my head. I ducked, and it missed by a mere couple of inches, smashing into my shoulder instead. I hit the ground and slid backward across the water-slick surface of the wooden platform on which we stood. The edge dipped slightly under my weight, and my hair fell into the water.

No. I pressed my fingers into the cracked planks. Splintered bits of wood dug into my skin, but I managed to keep from falling off, and that's all that mattered.

Jaco stepped toward me. The platform tipped down, making it harder to hold on. I sat up carefully. He took another step

"What's the matter, kid?" Jaco grunted tauntingly, a smirk smeared across his fat face. "Can't handle the Ring Champion? That's me, you know," he added stupidly. He was close. I could practically smell his stinking breath from here. He stepped even closer. I did the only logical thing to do. I kicked him between the legs as hard as I could.

Jaco might be tough as nails, but he was still human. He howled.

I grinned as the crowd gathered on the bleachers surrounding the platform simultaneously cheered and screeched in outrage. The latter was considerably louder, but I didn't let that deter me. I swung my legs underneath my body. The platform rocked back and forth as Jaco danced around in pain. Better to stay low for now, I decided. It would be harder for him to throw me off.

"You goddam bastard!" Jaco roared. "You dirty, no-good bastard!" He kicked at me and missed. The platform tilted up as Jaco stumbled backward. "Get up and fight like a man! Get up now!"

I stayed put.

Jaco sneered at me. "Do you even talk? What's wrong with you? Get up!"

I planted my right foot solidly on the platform. "Don't tell me what to do you fat, ugly son-of-a-bitch," I spat.

The crowd roared, whether with pleasure or fury, I didn't know. Jaco looked slightly shocked for a moment--How dare a scraggly one-legged bastard like me speak to him like that? It didn't take him long to recover though. He balled his fists and stomped toward me.

I sprang up, the rusty metal of my bad leg scraping against the platform. "Try to knock me down!" I shouted. "Try it! I dare you!"

He ran at me. I sidestepped, barely keeping my balance as the platform rocked and swayed. Jaco turned to face me, unrestrained fury plain in his eyes. He charged once more. I sidestepped again, but this time my bad leg slipped against the wet planks. His knuckles caught my cheek. I was down. I was slipping off the edge, the right half of my body already in the water. I flipped onto my stomach and made a mad scramble for the center of the platform. Jaco stomped toward me. He gave me the finger and kicked me hard in the side. I felt as though my stomach had split open. I gasped desperately for air in the split second before I smacked the water.

I didn't close my mouth soon enough. Cold, salty liquid clogged in my throat. I could hear the muted ringing of a bell and the screeches and cheers of the spectators. I fought my way up, broke the surface, and suddenly the noise was a hundred times louder. I spat and coughed out the harbor water. Jaco stood in the center of the platform, arms raised in victory, encouraging the cheers that rained down on him.

"Damn you!" I shouted childishly.

I only wish he could've heard me.

I swam to the dock attached to the floating bleachers. I pulled myself up the ladder and collapsed on the hard planks. I squeezed my eyes shut and slammed my fist down. "Damn me," I groaned quietly. "Damn me."

Clutching my injured side, I climbed to my feet--to my foot, I should say. I limped off the dock and across the bridge that connected the Ring to it's lobby on land. I hurt everywhere. Everywhere.

The building on the other side of the bridge was mostly empty except for a few people who were studying the giant scoreboard spread across the right wall. Everyone else was already down at the Ring, cheering on Jaco, probably preparing to watch him beat up his next opponent.

"I suppose I'm not looking at the new champion?"

I grimaced as Randall, the Ring's ticket-man stuck his head around the corner and laughed. He was a small, scrawny fellow, and if I had any sense at all, I would have paid my loser's fee and left without another word.

Unfortunately, I had about as much sense right then as I had patience. I stormed up to him, pulled back my splinter-ridden fist and punched his eyeball with all my remaining strength. He staggered back with a pained yelp. The people at the scoreboard glanced our way but made no move to help either of us. Why should they?

Randall touched his eye. I swear that I could already see the bruise forming. It made me feel better. I hated that it made me feel better, but it did.

My name was on the scoreboard seven times. My name had been marked under loser seven times. Later today, Randall will have the honor if adding it an eighth time under the same category.

I grabbed the front of his shirt in my fist and wound up to hit him again. I wanted him to know how I felt right now. I wanted people to pass by and laugh at him because both his eyes were swelled shut.

"Kasey," he whimpered. "Hey, I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. Please..."

"Shut up," I snapped. "You disgust me." I slammed my fist into the wall behind him. He filched, then visibly relaxed when he realized I hadn't punched him again. "This whole place disgusts me." I let go of his shirt. He scuttled away, fearing I would change my mind and break his puny nose.

"I'll just go get your things then," Randall sputtered out before disappearing through the door to the back room. He reappeared a moment later, a long tattered gray trench coat draped over his arms. He gathered it into a ball and tossed it at me. I caught it, checked the many pockets to make sure nothing had been stolen, then slipped it on over my sopping wet shirt and pants.

"That's 25 cents for holding your coat," Randall said.

I removed my worn silver lockbox from my pocket, paused, then put it back. "I don't think I'll pay you today. I don't think you deserve it. Look at you, you're pathetic."

"But Kasey, you have no idea what I do to keep your stuff safe. Do you know the kind of people that--"

"You want payment?" I snarled, not caring about the consequences. I never cared about the consequences, not when I was all riled up. "I'll pay you in advice: Keep your mouth shut. There you go, goodbye."

I stomped out of the Ring lobby, my footsteps pounding an irregular thump clack-thump clack-thump as I went. I decided right then and there that I wouldn't be coming back. Ever. I'd had enough of being beat up.

I slammed the door behind me.