Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Maverick
I don’t know what game Jim is playing. Getting him alone before he had to go on stage was a near impossibility, and why I’ve been tasked with watching Frankie remains a mystery. But I’m beginning to get an idea.
She isn’t one of us, that much is clear.
When she told me her killer name—the Fisherman—I knew she was full of shit.
The Fisherman died on Devil Horn Island several years ago.
That’s why the bridge is known as Fisherman’s Bridge.
What I don’t know is why she lied, and I’m sure that has something to do with what I’m tasked with finding out.
Or maybe it has something to do with whatever Jim is doing on stage right now.
Not to mention, this is the first I’m hearing about a scavenger hunt.
“I wonder what this man has done,” Jim says as he walks around the iridescent suit.
Unlike the other three, this figure shows no signs of fear. He stands like a soldier, tall and proud, with his shoulders pulled back. His eyes glare straight ahead.
Frankie fidgets beside me. She’s either excited or uneasy about the impending kills, but either way, she can’t keep still.
Her feet shuffle under her chair, and her gloved hands grip the sides of the seat as she twists and writhes in her skin.
Her gas mask turns toward me, and the fidgeting stops.
She folds her hands in her lap and looks away from me again.
Interesting.
Back on stage, the man is still doing his best to look unaffected as Jim strolls around him and talks about parasites hiding among the wolves who hide among the sheep. The Normies are the sheep. We are the wolves. But who the fuck are the parasites?
The room falls deathly silent as we all tune-in to Jim’s frequency.
“They want to take us down from the inside because the laws they’ve created to protect themselves have protected some of us as well.
They want proof of our crimes more than they want their next breath, so I’ve chosen to deny them the latter.
” Jim’s smile shifts from amused to satanic as he looks into the crowd.
“Everyone, please ensure your masks are securely fashioned, and enjoy the show!”
“Entry of the Gladiators” blasts through overhead speakers as Jim lowers his mask, raises his hood, and hurries off the stage. Once he’s seated with us at the table, the lounge lights cut out completely, giving the stage all the glory.
Beside me, Frankie’s head twists on a swivel. As everyone else stares straight ahead and waits for the chaos to begin, she looks around...for what?
A loud bang reverberates overhead, and someone screams. I’m pretty sure it was Cat. Confetti rains down on the stage, followed by a loud hissing sound. The bang came from the confetti cannons, but that hissing...
The woman who collapsed earlier chooses a pretty terrible time to wake up. Her eyelids flutter open as a fluorescent-green gas overtakes the stage. The stoic soldier on the end doesn’t lose his nerve. He keeps standing, staring out into the darkness as he welcomes death.
For nearly thirty seconds, nothing else happens.
The Cattle in the red suit tries to get off stage, but the chain securing their legs together also secures him to the floor.
He can’t take more than a few steps before he’s brought to a halt.
With his hands bound behind his back, he can’t even stop himself as he falls to the floor.
Like the woman beside him, his head cracks against the wood, though I doubt anyone in the back heard it. The music is still so loud.
Speaking of the music, it’s shifted to a softer part of the song. Two figures in orange PPE gear wander onto the stage and douse the four Cattle in a cloud of glitter shot from packs on their backs. They spin to the beat of the song, adding to the show.
Frankie leans closer to me and shouts, “What the actual fuck is happening right now? Are we supposed to kill them?”
“I don’t think so,” I shout back, though I’m not entirely sure what’s happening. I can’t remember Jim ever bringing government employees onto the killing fields, but it seems that’s what he’s hinting at with the fourth vic. He’s either a cop, a fed, or, as I suspect, a soldier.
Is that why he wants me to keep a close eye on this woman? It would explain why she got so fidgety when the fourth Cattle was revealed. Is this part of Jim’s scavenger hunt? She must be one of them too.
A loud retching sound comes from the stage, right as a large hoop drops from the ceiling.
Where the fuck did Jim find a criminal aerialist?
But then the orange-clad figure tries its first high-flying maneuver, and down they go.
They land on the stage in a writhing heap, and no one goes to check on them. We’re all too busy laughing.
The retching sound returns, but it’s doubled this time.
Red Cattle and Pink Cattle sit up on their knees and gag until the blood vessels burst in their faces.
Seconds later, Red Cattle vomits a puddle onto the stage that matches the color of his suit.
Blood and thick chunks of pink material filter through the stitches.
The entire time, Soldier Cattle stands like a statue, and then I realize why. He’s holding his breath.
Red Cattle finally collapses and begins seizing as Pink coughs up a chunk of lung. Literally. Instead of coming through the stitches, however, the chunks fly from her nose. She looks into the crowd, and several people cheer when she collapses onto her face.
Jim claps his hands and turns toward me, then points at the stage. He says something, but I can’t hear him over the song. He smacks his knee and doubles over, laughing at the joke only he heard.
Back on stage, Red has stopped moving and Pink has begun convulsing. A frothy pink foam spills from her mouth as her legs thrash and spin her body in a circle on the stage. When the chain catches, she just lies there and jerks.
I look back at the soldier, who was forced to take a breath halfway through the song. The glitter brigade pumps one more sparkling cloud into his face, then hurries off the stage. I wait and I watch, but by the end of the song, he’s still standing.
“Well, this won’t do,” Jim says as the music fades away.
He rises from his seat and climbs onto the stage again.
After stepping over the two bodies—both of which are now still—he skips past the Yellow Cattle and goes straight for the soldier.
“I had my scientists work for months on a new nerve gas, and you’ve defeated it by holding your breath. This won’t do at all.”
I chuckle to myself. When Jim killed that doctor who was abusing his elderly patients, he inherited the man’s entire legacy via a bit of legal sleight of hand.
That came with the care homes and an entire scientific branch.
He kept the teams that were working on cures for cancer, but he added a new team of his own to work on highly illegal chemical agents. Now we know why.
Jim places his hand above his gas mask, as if he’s shielding his eyes from the sun, and “looks” into the crowd. “Frankie? Where are you, dear child? You’re new here, and I’d love to give you the honors.”
I turn to look at Frankie, but her chair is empty. She’s no longer seated beside me, and even if she’s somewhere in the room, I’d never know. Not with all these gas masks.
“She went to the restroom,” I shout, and I don’t know why I’m covering for her. Especially not when Jim already knows the score. Hell, he knows more than I do at this point.
Jim’s mask slants as he tilts his head. “Did she, now? Well, then I guess we’d better put the games on pause for the time being. We’ll get this Yellow Cattle trained for staff work, and we’ll send this other fellow back to the brig.” He turns toward the soldier. “For now.”
A few workers in orange suits and gas masks hurry onto the stage. Some drag the dead bodies away, while the others lead the two living Cattle off stage right.
“As for the rest of you,” Jim says, “please exit into the hall, strip out of your suits, and meet us in the Sinners’ dining room in fifteen minutes.”
The lights click on, and I file out of the lounge with everyone else. Once we’re in the hall, Ice Pick is the first to strip out of the suit. I think the rest of us are a bit nervous about the potential for immediate death.
“You’ll all be just fine,” Jim says as he joins us. He’s already removed his mask. “In reality, there was no need for the suits at all. It was all for show. Red and Pink were injected with a substance several hours ago, and that substance reacted with the gas we released.”
Cat rips off her mask. “You mean to tell me that I’ve been suffering in all these shitty fucking textures for nothing ?”
Fabric rustles, and annoyed grumbles fill the air as everyone begins undressing. Everyone except Bennett. He only takes off his mask as Jim tootles to another group of people.
“Aren’t you ready to get out of these hot suits?” I ask Bennett.
His cheeks flame red, but he doesn’t answer me.
Cat chuckles as she steps out of the suit and kicks it away from her. “Mister Genius over here thought he’d go commando under the suit, so now he’s forced to wear it to dinner.”
“It was hot, okay?” Bennett starts down the hall toward the dining room, and Cat follows him.
I shake my head and go back to the task at hand. Once the shiny suit is on the floor, I turn and spot Frankie a few feet away. The mask is off, and her face is a few shades paler, but she’s still wearing the hideous outfit.
“You can take that off now,” I say as I step closer.
She looks down at her outfit and seems to remember where she is. “Oh, right.” After gripping the first glove, she stops and looks at me. “Are we sure it’s safe? Nerve gases can remain effective by?—”
“It wasn’t just a nerve gas. It required a catalyst. That’s why Yellow and the solider didn’t die.”
“The soldier?”