The Zero Game

Lunging forward like a rabid dog, he flies at Viv. She swings the club with clenched teeth, hoping to put another dent in his head. I tried the same thing earlier. She doesn’t have a chance.

Catching the club in midswing, Janos twists it sharply, then jabs it forward like a pool cue toward her face. The blunt end of the club stabs her right in the throat. Teetering backwards, Viv clutches her neck, unable to breathe. From sheer momentum, she manages to rip the golf club from his hands, but she can’t hold on to it, and it drops to the floor. Janos doesn’t need it. As Viv violently coughs, he blocks the path out and moves in for the kill.

“S-Stay back,” she gasps.

Janos grips the front of her shirt, pulls her toward him, and in one blurred movement, swipes his elbow into her face. It catches her in the eyebrow, just like mine – but this time, even as the blood comes, Janos doesn’t let up. He jabs his elbow forward and tags her again. And again. All in the same spot. He’s not just trying to knock her out…

“Don’t touch her…!” I shout, hurtling forward. My arm’s so swollen, I can’t even feel it. My legs are shaking, barely able to hold me up. I don’t care. He’s not taking her, too.

Ignoring the pain, I rush in, slamming him from behind and wrapping my arm around his neck. He swipes his hand back over his own shoulder, trying to take my head off. The only chance we have is two against one. It’s still not enough.

Viv tries to scratch at his cheek, but Janos is ready. Lifting up both feet, he kicks her directly in the face. Viv flies backwards, slamming into the metal side of the air conditioner. Her head hits first. She sinks, unconscious. Refusing to let up, Janos whips his head back, smashing me in the nose. The loud pop tells me it’s broken.

Letting go of Janos, I stumble backwards, my face a bloody mess.

Janos doesn’t slow down. He marches right at me… a walking tank. I take a swing with my left hand, and he blocks the punch. I try to raise my right, but it sags like a tube sock full of sand. “P-Please…” I beg.

Janos pummels me again in the nose, unleashing a sickening crunch. As I continue to stumble, he glances over my shoulder. Like before, he’s got his eyes on the open hole.

“Don’t… please don’t…!”

He shoves me backwards, and I crash to the ground, hoping it’ll at least stop me from moving. Just as I look up, he clutches my shirt and tugs me to my feet. The hole’s right behind me. Unlike before, he’s not giving me any extra running space.

Janos pulls me in for one last shove. My right arm’s dead. My head’s on fire. The only thing my brain processes is the smell of black licorice on his breath.

“You can’t win,” I stutter. “No matter what you do… it’s over.”

Janos stops. His eyes narrow with his smirk. “I agree,” he says.

His hands burst forward, plowing me in the chest. I go reeling toward the hole. Last time, I made the mistake of trying to grab his shirt. This time, I go for the man himself. Stealing his own trick, I reach out, grip Janos’s ear, and hold tight.

“What’re you -?!” Before he can even get out the question, we’re both heading for the hole.

My foot slides down the edge. I still don’t let go. Janos’s head jerks forward. As I slip down, sliding off the edge, Janos grabs my arm, trying to ease his own pain. I continue to hold tight. He crashes down on his chest. It slows our descent, but I’m already moving too fast. The lower half of my body’s already in the hole… and slipping quick. As I slide, bits of gravel bite at my stomach. The concrete does the same to Janos’s chest. He’s following me, headfirst. As we continue to skid, he lets go of my arm with one hand and struggles to backpedal, clawing at the concrete; I kick at the inside walls of the hole, searching for a foothold to stop our fall. Janos shuts his eyes, digging in with everything he has. There’s a huge vein running down the front of his forehead. His face is tomato soup. He’s not letting me take his ear with me. And then, out of nowhere… we stop.

A final cloud of dirt and dust rolls off the edge of the floor, landing on my face. I’m dangling by my left arm, which is the only part of me not in the hole. My armpit’s on the edge, which holds most of my weight, but my hand grips on to Janos’s ear with whatever strength I have left. It’s the only reason he’s holding my wrist. Flat on his chest, and realizing we’ve stopped, he continues to hold tight. If he lets go, I’ll definitely plunge down the hole, but I’ll be taking part – if not all – of him with me.

Thanks to the pressure on his ear, Janos can barely pick his head up. His cheek is pressed against the concrete. But not for long. Twisting slightly, he glances my way – making sure I can’t get out. From inside the hole, my chin and arm sit just above the edge. He’s ready to send me the rest of the way down.

“Janos, don’t…!”