“The next day.”

“What did you say?” Ben Jeremy asked Mwah, confused.

Mwah was too distracted to reply. He could not take his eyes off Rude’s leather jacket. It was the sort of thing that could turn a man into a legend. Even something as furless as a human looked unstoppable while wearing one. Mwah suddenly realized this was where Tommy Tony was going to get him his leather jacket. Were Christmas still a thing, wrapping paper not used up as toilet paper, he would have felt like a child staring in awe at its unopened presents.

“The doctor here is a miracle worker. She’ll be able to patch your friend up no problem.” Rude pointed to the city’s hospital. It was so disheveled that one of the doors could not be opened, since its frame was the only thing holding the building up.

“He’s not my friend,” Mwah said casually. “I couldn’t care less if he died after contracting gonorrhea from a street dog!” Everyone looked wide eyed at the llama, startled by his brazen statement. Ben Jeremy walked ahead at a brisk pace so no one could see the tears forming in his eyes.

“Yeah, okay. No need to be, like, a total dick.” Rude Cancutter was uncertain how to properly end the awkward moment, so he settled on changing the subject entirely. “Hey Tommy, we ended up finishing the Death Dome while you were out.”

“Aww man, awesome! I was hoping I would get to see that!” Tommy Tony’s eyes lit up.

The Rescued Woman heard the words ‘Death Dome’ and froze in place, shocked not only by the word ‘death,’ but by her rescuer’s gleeful response to it. She desperately fought the feeling that she might be jumping out of a burning building into a boat that was sinking.

“Death Dome?” Mwah and Ben Jeremy asked in unison. Ben Jeremy gave the llama a smile.

“Don’t look at me like that," Mwah said without making eye contact. "It was an accident and I don’t like you.” 

Rude sped through the city tour, excited about showing his friend the Death Dome, and they were all in awe when they finally saw the structure. It looked like an ancient Roman coliseum made from old fence posts, porta potty doors, and many a can of fruit cocktail.

“How the hell didn’t we see this while we’ve been here? It’s taller than the city!” Mwah looked back and forth between the two areas.

Tommy Tony gave the llama a lazy shrug.

Without any further discussion, the group stepped forward into the dome’s archways and were immediately hit by an aggressive wall of sound. The noises made by cheering citizens were almost deafening.

It was apparent from even a cursory glance that the building was a modern-day equivalent to a gladiatorial arena, including two figures that were already standing on the battleground below.

A loud echoing gunshot interrupted whatever questions were about to be asked of Rude. The cheering crowd grew so loud that everyone had to cover their ears and respective genitalia as the sound had become so prevalent the vibration caused noticeable discomfort.

“What the hell goes on at this place, Mr. Cancutter?” Ben Jeremy screamed. The noise had already stopped but he hadn’t noticed everyone else removing their hands from their ears. They were all standing to his left and he couldn’t see them.

“Mr. Cancutter was my mom. Call me Rude.” Rude strolled over to the scientist and removed his hands from his ears. “This future is kinda a dick, so we decided to make ourselves a game to distract from the suffering. All the starvation, lack of water, the war, the severe lack of things to wipe your butt with - everything that makes this place a living hell.” Rude’s hands drooped sadly in his pockets. “So, we escape into our arena and enjoy the action. It’s a welcome sanctuary from our troubles,” Rude added with pride.

“What exactly are the rules of this game?” Mwah raised an eyebrow. His face was so furry it was hard to tell he did so.

“We get two people together and we put them into the middle of the arena. We give one of them a gun and the other one gets a big fat pile of nothing. Then we flip a coin. If the coin lands on heads, the dude with the gun shoots the person without a gun. If it’s tails, we shoot the person with the gun and take the gun back. Whoever didn’t get shot stays in the arena and then we start it all again.” Rude puffed his jacket out, a way for him to show how cool his idea was.

“But how do you decide who gets the gun?” The Rescued Woman asked, her horror temporarily over run by her curiosity.

“Coin toss,” Rude Cancutter answered.

“What exactly is the name of this game?” Mwah was still staring at the man’s leather jacket.

Rude looked at the group as if to say the answer was obvious.

“Coin toss.”

The Rescued Woman’s head began to swim. Somehow, in some way, she found herself with people as bad, if not worse, than Tommy, Mwah, and Ben. She was trapped between traveling with a trio of deranged man-babies, or staying in a city that enacted death games to escape the depression caused by death. She could run away from all of them, but she had no idea where the next human settlement was. At best, she’d be mauled by a bear or shot by a llama. At worst, she would just starve to death. She subconsciously took several steps backwards. She couldn’t feel her legs moving, but she knew they were. She wasn’t looking at anything in particular; her auto pilot had been switched on and her actions came without thought.

She heard the group talking amongst themselves, discussing plans, asking questions about coin toss, making inappropriate jokes about whoever lost. She wasn’t even sure why she kept walking with them as they escorted the scientist to the medical building. She felt trapped within her own life, madness clawing at her to save her from what the universe had dropped her into.

“I hope she accidentally punctures his gizzard and he dies,” Mwah uttered as the scientist disappeared into the doctors operating room.

“No, Mwah. Humans don’t have gizzards. We’re mammals.” Answering just felt natural for The Rescued Woman. How easily the reply came would haunt her when she tried to sleep that night. It was almost as if she were part of the group. It was, after all, easier to accept your prison if you could pretend you had built the walls.