Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Maverick
M uch like the lounge, tables litter the floor in front of a small stage in this room.
The tables here are larger, however, and the lighting is much brighter.
A microphone stands in the center of the stage.
Behind it and to the right, something large and rounded at the top broods beneath a white sheet.
Eve plucks a blank name tag from a table against the wall beside the door. She bends at the waist to fill out her name, and Frankie follows suit. I look around the room and try to figure out what Jim has up his sleeve, but there isn’t much to go on.
Bennett and Ezra catch my attention, and I start toward them, but then Jim appears out of nowhere and pulls me off to the side.
“How are you getting along with your charge?” he whispers.
I peer past his shoulder. Frankie hasn’t noticed my absence as she peels the backing from her name tag and sticks it to her baggy shirt. She glances around once, but she doesn’t seem to be looking for anyone in particular.
“We’re getting along fine, but I don’t understand this setup. Could you shed a little light?”
“All in good time.” He pats my shoulder and smiles.
“You’ll hear more about the scavenger hunt shortly, but I need to be sure you understand that your little package is different from the rest. While the other flies in our potato salad can be squished, she must be protected.
In fact, no one else can even suspect she’s not one of us. ”
“Jim, they’ll know. Hell, within the first few minutes of meeting her, she already fucked up her backstory. She said she was the Fisherman.”
Jim winces and gives his head a half-shake. “Damn, that’s a sorry business, but that’s what you’ll need to fix. Help her fit in.”
My head turns toward him at a pace so slow that I feel the creak of every tendon in my neck. “You want me to help her...fit in. A fed. Amongst serial killers.”
“Now you’re catching on.” He glances from side to side, then leans closer. “And if you can pull it off, if you can convince her that we aren’t the droids she is looking for while convincing everyone else that she belongs, you’ll receive a very handsome prize.”
If he’s insinuating an invitation to a sad pizza party in the basement of his island mansion, I’ll pass. Still, the challenge will give me something to do while I’m here.
“Okay, Jim. I’m in.”
“Glad to hear it. Now, there’s just one little rule. Frankie can know that you know, but if anyone else finds out, the game is over.”
I glance back at the table, where a few more participants have gathered to fill out name tags. Eve and Frankie chat off to the side.
“Not even Eve?” I ask. “She’s a close friend, and I trust her with my life.”
“Not even Eve.”
It’s a tall ask, and I doubt I can pull this off, but I nod my head. “Okay, I think I’ve got it.”
“Good, now go make sure she’s on your team for tonight’s festivities. I’d hate to think of what she might slip up and say if you aren’t there to help her.” He raises his eyebrows and looks over at the table. Cat and Kindra have joined the...
Cat and Kindra.
I rush away from a cackling Jim—the man lives to torture us, I swear—and hurry to the group of women. When Kindra notices me, she steps in front of me before I can reach Frankie.
“Where have you been hiding this enchanting woman?” Kindra asks as she points to Frankie. “First you hog all of Eve’s time, and now you’re determined to keep this one away from us as well? Maverick, sharing is caring.”
I hold my hand toward Frankie and motion for her to come with me, but Cat swats my hand away.
“Back off, blondie. We’re forming an all-girls team, and you can’t steal one of the few pairs of tits in this sausage fest.” Cat weaves her arm through Frankie’s, and Eve does the same on the other side. “We only need one more, and I think I can convince Rosie to join us.”
“Or,” I drawl, “you could put me on your team and up your chances of winning. You don’t know what Jim has planned.”
“And you do?” Kindra asks. “Not even Ezra knew, and he’s become Jim’s party planner extraordinaire.”
“Okay, no, I don’t know what Jim has planned, but neither do you.” I cock my head and wait for a response.
Eve places her hand on Kindra’s arm. “He has a point, honey. If we want to win, we might benefit from having some male energy on the team. Besides, it looks like Rosie and Grim have already teamed up with your men.”
We follow Eve’s pointed finger to Bennett, Ezra, Grim, and Rosie, who have taken a seat at a table.
“He could always join them,” Cat says. “They have an opening, and there are a few other women around here. Somewhere.”
But then an unfamiliar man takes a seat beside Ezra.
“Oh, fuck it,” Kindra says. “Maverick, welcome to the team. If we don’t win, it’s your fault.”
“Noted,” I say.
I scribble my name on a name tag, then peel the backing and stick it to my gray t-shirt.
The girls start toward a table, and like a little pull-string puppy, I follow them.
I take a seat between Cat and Frankie, but then I feel eyes on me.
When I look across the room, Bennett is leveling me with a death glare.
“Frankie, could we swap seats?” I whisper, though I’ve leaned a little too close. When she turns her head to address me, our lips nearly touch.
She leans back to avoid the kiss of death, then nods. “Uh, yeah, sure.”
Once we’ve swapped places, a hush falls over the room as Jim climbs the few stairs to the stage. From his inside pocket, he pulls a stack of notecards, then adjusts his tie. He clears his throat and steps up to the mic.
“Sinners, I’d once again like to welcome you to the Bruise Cruise. After the little show before dinner, several of you approached me with questions and concerns revolving around the scavenger hunt. I’m here to squash all the rumors and explain the game in detail.”
He drones on for the next ten minutes about the scavenger hunt, and unease grows as we learn that there are multiple federal agents among us. Every rank has been invaded: Sinners, Cattle, Normies, and the crew. Our job is to find them and get rid of them without alerting the Normies on board.
Kindra’s hand rises. “What if we fuck up and kill an actual newbie Sinner on accident?”
She brings up a good point. During past retreats, killing a fellow Sinner came with steep consequences, up to and including death. Jim’s little plan sounds interesting, but there is a very large margin for error here.
Jim nods. “That’s the unfortunate bit of business, but before dispatching a Sinner, a Normie, or a member of staff, you must first bring your suspicions to me.
The members who drew the short straws and were doomed to become Cattle are destined for death, regardless.
If they aren’t killed during the games, they will be offered no quarter in my staff, I’m afraid. ”
Shuffling sounds come from under the table, and when Frankie’s leg bumps mine, I realize she’s causing the sound with her incessant fidgeting. She looks up at me with a sheepish smile, and once again, the fidgeting stops.
And it’s no wonder she’s fidgeting. Jim has just issued a death warrant for all of her pals, and she believes her name is on the list as well. I’m tasked with ensuring that doesn’t happen, though.
But am I the only one?
I look around the room and study the unfamiliar faces. Have Ezra and Bennett been tasked with caring for a fed? Cat, Kindra, and Eve? Are we all competing against each other?
I turn back to Frankie. If that’s the game, I plan to win.
Leaning closer, I whisper in her ear. “For the rest of this cruise, don’t leave my sight.”
Her blue eyes widen, but she doesn’t speak.
“Now that we’ve gotten that business out of the way, let’s get on with tonight’s game, shall we?
” Jim pulls the mic from the stand, then strolls over to the large sheet.
With a wide grin, he grips one corner and snatches the material away, revealing a large randomizer wheel.
Each slice of the colorful, glittery pie has something written on it, but it’s too small to read from this far away.
Murmurs rise from the crowd. Speculations swarm, but Jim shushes us.
“Quiet, quiet. All will be revealed in time.” He shuffles his notecards, then prepares to read the first one. “For the first game of the cruise, let’s play a little trivia, shall we? Table one, we’ll start with something easy. Tell me, which infamous killer was known as the Co-ed Killer?”
Cat shoots from her seat. “Edmund Emil Kemper the third!”
“Thank you, Miss Novak,” Jim says, “but you are seated at table two .”
“Whoops,” she whispers as she takes a seat.
Jim clears his throat and shuffles to the next card, then tries again. “Table one .” He pins Cat with a pointed stare, and she makes a zipping motion over her lips. “Who was the first to coin the term ‘serial murderer’?”
Table one puts their heads together and begins discussing their options.
“You have thirty seconds to answer,” Jim says through the mic.
“That’s so easy,” Kindra whispers. “Everyone knows Robert Ressler said it first.”
Frankie turns toward Kindra. “Actually, Robert Ressler popularized the term serial killer , but Ernst Gennat, a German criminologist, used the term serial murderer first. I’ll save you the German pronunciation.”
Fuck, that’s exactly the sort of shit a fed would know.
“What did you say your killer name was again?” Eve asks.
Frankie opens her mouth to answer, and my life flashes before my eyes. If she tells anyone else she’s the fucking Fisherman, she’ll be dead before the clock strikes midnight.
“She’s the Mona Lisa,” I blurt, “because she always wears a smile while killing.”
Frankie looks geared to argue, so I’m grateful when a stranger stands from table one.
“That would be Ernst Gennat,” the man says.
A mischievous twinkle glints in Jim’s eyes as he smiles down at the man. “Mark Lewis, isn’t it?”
The man nods.
“Well, very good job, Mark Lewis. Who on your team knew the answer was Ernst Gennat?”
“That was all me, sir.” Mark blasts Jim with a proud smile, looking and sounding every bit the government agent.
Sir? Ha.
Aven—one of the new guys—stands at table one as his teammate sits. “Jim, permission to kill Mark Lewis?”
The pitifully doomed Mark Lewis jumps to his feet and runs for the door.
“Permission granted,” Jim says.
Aven glances around the room. Seeing no good weapons, he settles on the newly empty chair.
His thick arms and barrel chest are so massive that it looks like he’s plucking up dollhouse furniture when he grips it and lifts it into the air.
In a few quick strides, he’s reached Mark Lewis, who struggles to open what must be a locked door. Jim really thought of everything.
“He’s going to kill him here? In front of everyone?” Frankie whispers, and I’m glad I’m the only one who heard her.
“Yes,” I whisper back. “We’re all killers here, remember?”
She sits back, but I don’t miss the way her hands can’t keep still in her lap.
A loud thunk comes from the other side of the room, and I turn in time to see Aven bring the chair down on the fed’s head for a second time.
A red freshet burbles from a split running through his scalp.
Mark goes down, but Aven doesn’t stop. Even once a chair leg flies off and puts a large hole in the wall, he keeps swinging until Mark Lewis’ skull is reduced to pulp and bone shards.
His job finished, Aven returns to his seat, and the game resumes.
Our table is next, and I can only hope that Jim doesn’t ask a question that could blow Frankie’s cover. Then again, she’s so busy gawping at the twitching body by the door...I nudge her leg, and she schools her face, finally wrenching her gaze away from death.
“Table two, not all serial killers are created equal,” Jim says into the mic. “The most notorious killers are not even of our ilk. One of the most disgusting and vile monsters to ever don the title of serial killer was known as the Werewolf of Wysteria. What was his actual name?”
“Albert Fish!” Frankie opens her mouth and blurts the answer before I can stop her. That glazed look in her eyes tells me she’s entirely unaware of what’s about to happen.
“That is correct!” Jim shouts. “Get up here and spin the wheel!”
She looks to me for help, but the girls encourage her to get up. There’s no telling what that wheel entails, but I can bet it’s murder. I stand, half-expecting the girls to yank me back into my chair, but Jim is the one who stops me from approaching the stage.
“Now, now, Maverick. Frankie answered the question, so Frankie gets to spin the wheel.” His eyes glint with the pleasure of his mischief as he motions her toward doom.
And I can only sit here and watch.