Chapter Thirty-Four
Owen and Sebastian were in motion, taking advantage of the distraction to launch themselves at Kelbrook and Twitchell. Alice was amazed by the way they seemed to coordinate their attack. It was as if they had worked out a strategy. Each took the closest target.
Owen slammed into Kelbrook, sending him to the floor. The mag-rez roared but the shot struck a wall. Owen grabbed Kelbrook’s arm and wrenched it. Kelbrook screamed. The pistol fell to the floor.
Sebastian went for Twitchell’s throat. Twitchell panicked and dropped his own pistol in a frantic effort to fend off the dust bunny, who was now all teeth and claws—a lot of claws, given Sebastian’s six paws.
There was a great deal of thrashing around, but Alice reminded herself she had no skills in hand-to-hand combat.
She contented herself with scooping up the weapons and retreating out of range.
She had no idea how to rez a mag-rez, so she set the powerful weapons on an end table and took the flamer out of her pocket.
“I’ve got all the guns,” she said to no one in particular. “Sebastian, it’s okay. I can shoot him if necessary. Please don’t rip open his throat. He’s not worth the time and effort required to rebalance my personal scales.”
Sebastian leaped free of Twitchell and dodged out of kicking range. But Twitchell was no longer trying to fight off his small attacker; he was struggling to crawl out of the way.
A sudden silence briefly descended. It was broken seconds later by the sound of Sebastian dashing across the floor to recover his sunglasses.
In the murky light of the glowing lamps, Alice watched Owen push himself to his feet. He used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe blood off his face. His eyes burned.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
He glanced around, saw the two pistols on the end table, and picked up both. One disappeared into the pocket of his jacket. He kept the other in his hand.
Kelbrook groaned and struggled to a sitting position. He used his free hand to cradle his jaw. There was blood on him, too. Alice told herself she should not take any satisfaction in that. But she did.
Twitchell moaned. He looked up and saw Alice pointing the flamer at him.
“Don’t move,” she said. “My aim is improving.”
“Fuck,” he said.
“You can put the flamer away, Alice,” Owen said gently. “The last thing we want to do is start a fire in this old firetrap.”
“I wasn’t going to…Never mind,” she said. She tucked the weapon into a pocket. “Are you sure you’re not hurt? You look hurt.”
“Nothing that won’t heal, assuming we get out of here.”
An unnatural stillness gripped the interior of the hotel. Alice realized that she could not hear the wind. The constant rumble of the breakers on the rocky beach below the cliffs was no longer audible, either. It was as if the structure had been whisked into another dimension.
Somewhere upstairs a door opened.
Twitchell flinched. Okay, Alice thought, in fairness they all flinched—even Sebastian was briefly startled, although he seemed to dismiss the sound almost immediately.
Footsteps echoed in an upstairs hall. Floorboards squeaked. A woman’s sobs floated down the stairs.
“There’s someone else in the house,” Twitchell said. “Give me one of the guns.”
Owen ignored the demand. “The dust bunny isn’t worried, so we’re not going to worry, either. What we’re hearing are some special effects for the escape games.”
“You don’t understand,” Kelbrook muttered. He pushed himself to his feet. “It’s not a game. Rose told me the truth years ago. It’s why I stopped seeing her for…for physical therapy.”
“Physical therapy?” Alice asked, incredulous. “What are you talking about? Rose Ash is not a physical therapist.”
“Forget it,” Kelbrook muttered.
Twitchell snorted. “Ash specialized in innovative therapies for sexual masochism disorder. In other words, she was a dominatrix. Hardcore.”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Kelbrook yelled.
“Why is the hotel a death trap?” Owen said. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”
Kelbrook grunted. “Rose’s father built this damn hotel decades ago. It went into foreclosure after he died in jail. Rose asked me to buy it for her anonymously. It was the price she demanded for her silence. Well, that and the watch.”
“Who was her father?” Alice asked. “Why was he in jail?”
“His name was Luxton Yardley.”
“Well, hell,” Owen muttered. “That explains a lot.”
Alice looked from one man to the other. “Who is Luxton Yardley?”
“He was the serial killer the media labeled the Gamer,” Owen said.
“Rose tried to hide the truth, but I found some papers that made it clear she was Yardley’s daughter,” Kelbrook said.
“When I confronted her, she admitted it. She said he brought his victims here and forced them to play what he called the Ultimate Escape Game. None of them stood a chance. The entire hotel was engineered to commit murder.”