Ocean Blue (Sea Lab Book 1)

CHAPTER 42

ZANDERTHAL'S REMOTE COMPOUND

As Jake and Sarah passed under the arched entrance, the decibel levels shot through the roof. On the upper level, they paused on a top landing and gazed down into a bowl filled with stadium style seats. At the arena's epicenter laid a sand pit circled by a tall chain-linked fence. The size of the playing field reminded Jake of a basketball court, minus the goals and backboards. However, he decided Sarah may have overestimated the size of the arena itself. The Orlando Magic crowd wouldn't come close to squeezing under the dome, but regardless, the fanatics had packed the place.

To Jake's right stood an old man. He was balding and wiry. He wavered on his feet, beer sloshing in his cup. Near the highest seats, sweat clung to foreheads and ringed the clothing under armpits. A pungent odor assaulted Jake's nostrils—the air conditioning struggling to counter the body heat of over five thousand people—who obviously had some connection to Zanderthal's operation. The CEO wouldn't allow just anyone onto his private property. Jake didn't have a clue who they could be. Most of them could be workers from his shore facility. Others from the Ocean Blue headquarters building, and still more, were likely officials from rogue governments like North Korea. All of them had special clearance for the events taking place.

Stairs led down toward the fighting area, sectioned off by a short retaining wall at the bottom. Jake descended a few steps, wanting to get clear of whoever failed to roll on the deodorant. With Sarah on his heels, they stopped where the air cooled a few degrees and the body odor faded somewhat. Not by much. It still stank. 

In the sand below, two gladiators clashed, hurling powerful upper cuts and hooks. To Jake's wonder, he recognized within a few blows these warriors weren't average cage fighters. They were something else. 

A fortress of muscle with dark skin and raven hair braced for impact as his opponent thundered toward him, broadcasting his rage in a furious yell. The two collided, biceps and shoulders smashing together. The crowd roared, driven into a frenzy by the action below. Jake couldn't distinguish individual voices, only the sum of their yells and screams as one collective organism. He gawked in disbelief as the man with light skin and blond hair picked up his adversary and hurled him high above the ground. The man's body struck the fence after sailing twenty yards through the air. He landed in a heap and rose, shaking off the effects of the attack in mere seconds.

Jake caught Sarah's eye. They stared at each other, perplexed. Jake now had a feeling how spectators in the Roman Coliseum must have reacted to a battle of the titans, slapping high-fives and screaming blood thirsty chants.

The darker complected man stood, pupils burning with fire, eyes set on retribution. He roared toward his opponent like an armored tank, plowed into him and drove him to the ground. Their muscular bodies tumbled with sweat and blood mingling in the sand. When they emerged from the roll, the blond warrior found himself cradled in his adversary's arms, a bicep around his neck and another arm locked through his legs. The battle turned as the dark warrior carried the other man across the pit and mashed him against the fence and dropped him.

The victor drove a boot into the other man's chest and walked away with his arms held high in triumph. He roared at the crowd. But he didn't see his opponent as he rose to his feet behind him, his glare set on revenge. The battle was far from over.

Jake would have continued watching the spectacle, but several guards caught his attention. The men gathered at an entrance across the arena. The sentries focused on their leader, who barked instructions. With explicit orders, the group exited the passage and dispersed in opposite directions.

"I think our gig's up," Jake said. Before Sarah could reply, he grabbed her by the arm and started pulling her back up toward the exit. They climbed the stairs and dashed under the archway, the same one they used to enter the seating area.

"This can't be good." Sarah eyed Jake as they slowed to determine which way to go.

He panned the area ahead of them, hoping to reach the long hallway they'd used to enter the facility before running into opposition.

Sarah jerked free from his grasp as their speed walk turned into a slow jog.

Jake's heart quickened. The passage they sought was around the bend. It came into view a moment later, but so did a regiment of guards with assault rifles and pistols.

A commander of the small force stepped forward. "Stop where you are!"

Sarah pulled Jake by the arm, guiding him in the opposite direction.

They picked up the pace into an all out race for freedom. For a few seconds, it appeared they might escape, but then another group of sentries emerged, blocking their path.