by T J Payne
Amy turned to face her. Candice reached over Roger so that she could grasp Amy by the shoulders.
“You need to focus,” she said. “We all need to focus.”
The urgency in her mother’s voice hit Amy on some primal level. It reached deep within her and grabbed hold of her consciousness, floating somewhere above her body, and then jerked her back to reality. The fog cleared from Amy’s mind and her view of the room widened.
She was back.
And she knew they were all in danger.
CHAPTER 12
Amy might not have liked him, but she was glad when Big O took charge.
Caleb’s old asshole of a boss had been the first to rush toward the injured. His tourniquet had saved Yolanda’s life; she lay on the floor, pale but conscious and still breathing. Big O got the rest of Table Seven to tend to her, covering her with coats.
Army Rick had managed to stabilize Uncle John too, although he seemed worse off than Yolanda. He had passed out and Rick was unable to revive him. All his flailing, screaming, and alcohol-thinned blood probably didn’t help stop his bleeding.
Conversation reached a crescendo as people argued in their own small parties over what had happened, what it meant, and what they should do. Occasionally, someone let out a loud wail, overcome by the moment.
Big O took the stage. He picked up the microphone.
“Calm down!” he shouted into the mic. “Everybody, calm down. Quiet! Quiet, please.”
A hush spread across the room.
People lowered themselves back into their seats.
“Let’s work the problem,” he said. “First, we gotta get these bracelets off.”
At the mere mention of the bracelets, some people started tugging on their wrist straps.
“Don’t force it,” Big O shouted. “Stop, just stop. Take it easy, people. We need an engineer. Are there any engineers here? Electrical engineers, computer engineers, I dunno. Someone who understands how a device like this might work.”
Amy glanced toward her father. He slowly raised his hand.
“Roger, my man!” Big O said, pointing at him. “What do you need to work on this?”
Roger stood. “If, uh, if I had a screwdriver… I could pry open the casing. But I don’t know what sets them off. If they’re remote detonated—”
“Good point, good point,” Big O said, thinking. “There must be a detonator board somewhere. A main control room. We need to get into the staff area.”
Lilith’s cousin Brad, the linebacker from UCO, burst out of his seat and grabbed a steak knife from the table. “I’m on it,” he said as he marched to the staff door.
Cousin Rick jogged to join him. “Me too.”
Brad and Rick inspected the door, running their hands over its edges.
“There’s no lock,” Rick said. “It must be magnetically sealed. We need like a keycard or something.”
A murmur rose from the crowd.
“Stay calm, stay calm. Let’s all work together, people,” Big O said.
***
The Event Planner walked down the hallway to the bridal suite.
She resented the journey. It took several precious minutes of her time that she could be using to coordinate the festivities. But she reminded herself that The Customer Is Always Right. Her presence had been specifically requested by the clients.
She reached the door at the end of the hall and banged on it with the large, metal knocker.
The door swung open. There stood the scowling bride.
“Took you long enough,” Lilith said.
“My humble apologies. How may I assist you?”
Lilith stepped to the side and let the Event Planner into the bridal suite. It was a beautiful series of rooms. The furniture was mostly fourteenth century French design. The staff had tastefully sprinkled crimson rose petals over most surfaces. The flickering light from dozens of large candles was absorbed by the dark wood and stone. Stepping into this suite was like being transported back in time.
Except for the TV, of course.
A large flat-screen sat inside an oak cabinet. The light and hiss of its gray static drowned out the romantic, medieval ambiance. Caleb stood in front of the TV, mashing the buttons on the remote, trying to look like he was trouble-shooting.
“This isn’t picking up anything!” Lilith said. “We’re missing my wedding.”
“I am so sorry. May I?” The Event Planner held out her hand. Caleb passed her the remote.
“I better not have missed any good kills,” Lilith said, crossing her arms while she took a seat on the edge of the bed. “The balcony’s right there,” she said, pointing to the side door. “Why don’t you just put a viewing window here? Then we could watch it live.”
“I will convey that request to the owners.”
“Hurry up. We’re paying for this.”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Caleb said, sitting beside her. “I’m sure we didn’t miss much.”
He tried to put his arm around Lilith, but she knocked it away.
The Event Planner hit a few buttons on the remote. Obviously, in the bride’s haste to start watching, she had toggled the input settings. Of course, the Event Planner wouldn’t blame the bride or groom, but it was definitely their fault. It consistently amazed her that despite how wealthy — and, therefore, presumably intelligent — every client was, they somehow were also the dumbest, most helpless people in the world.
After resetting the HDMI input and putting the TV back to Channel Three, the screen tiled with feeds from the innumerable cameras hidden throughout The Venue.
“You can select individual cameras here. This button will get you back to the main selection screen,” she said, handing back the remote.
“How many bodies? How many bodies?” Lilith clapped her hands in excitement.
Caleb switched to a wide angle of the ballroom. Everyone sat at their tables, listening as Big O gave out directions.
Lilith leaned forward. Her head cocked to the side and her face scrunched up in confusion. “Is this from earlier?”
“I assure you, we are watching a live feed.”
“Why aren’t they killing each other?” Lilith asked.
“Every group behaves differently.”
“We paid to have them murder each other.”
“In my professional opinion, it’s best to give these things time. As the night wears on, people’s impulses tend to adjust. Some of our clients find it a fascinating study in human behavior.”
“I don’t want to study human fucking behavior! I want blood!”
“Maybe it’s heating up, sweetie,” Caleb said as he turned up the volume.
But the only voice that came through was Big O calmly controlling the situation. “Are there any radio experts here?” he asked. “We need someone to get to the roof and try to send out an S.O.S.”
Two people in the audience raised their hands.
“This is bullshit,” Lilith said. “This isn’t what we paid for.”
“Just wait, sweetie.”
“Just wait?! This is my wedding. And everyone’s just talk-talk-talk.”
Caleb turned to the Event Planner. “What can we do? Can we blow up some wrists? Create some chaos?”
“I’m afraid that’s against the pre-established rules of the evening. I understand how frustrating that can be. But we set the rules and insist on you agreeing to them because we find that changing the rules lessens the client’s experience. Integrity is very important to The Venue’s reputation.”
“But they’re strategizing. And planning. And working as a team.”
“Nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” She pushed a button on her headset. “I’m with the clients,” she said into her walkie-talkie. “They feel the energy at the reception is lacking. They would like less conversation and more engagement.”
“On it, boss,” came the reply from the DJ.
***
“Everyone needs to have a prepared tourniquet,” Big O announc
ed to the crowd. “Do we have any nurses or doctors—”
“It’s that time of night, ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ hollered into his microphone.
Amy, along with most of the guests, had forgotten that he was still in the ballroom, standing to the side of the stage in his glass booth, laptop and turntables in front of him.
“You know the song, you know the dance. I wanna see you all on your feet!”
He cranked up the volume as YMCA blasted from the speakers, completely drowning out Big O and all other conversation. The DJ raised his hands and danced along in his booth.
Amy watched Big O storm across the stage. He tried to open the door on the booth but it wouldn’t budge. He pounded on the glass.
“That ain’t how the dance goes, bro,” the DJ smiled back at him. “I wanna see all you all’s hands up now!”
He put his hands above his head in a giant Y.
One of the other guests picked up his chair, carried it across the stage, and slammed it into the glass booth.
The chair bounced off without leaving a scratch.
As all eyes were on the booth, Amy saw movement to the side. Coach Sanborn — the high school cross country coach — crept toward the wall of weapons. He reached up and grabbed a crossbow and quiver of bolts. He studied it for a moment, trying to figure out how to make it work. Then, he placed it on the ground and held it with his foot as he pulled back the bowstring until it cocked. He placed a bolt in the barrel groove.
Amy bit her lip. She scanned the rest of the wall. All the other weapons were hand weapons. Blades and blunt objects. Weapons that required close quarters.
Except the crossbow.
Coach Sanborn now had the only weapon with range.
With his locked and loaded weapon, Coach Sanborn pressed his back to the wall. His eyes darted from side-to-side. One slow step at a time, he backed his way toward the ballroom’s exit.
“He’s trying to escape!” Hazel, Lilith’s step-mother, shouted.
All eyes turned to Coach Sanborn.
Lilith’s father burst up from the table and jogged toward the coach.
“Put it down! Drop it!”
“It’s for self-defense,” Coach Sanborn pleaded.
Amy could tell from the waver in the man’s voice that he wasn’t a threat. He was terrified, like everyone else. He didn’t even aim the crossbow at Lilith’s dad as the man marched up and grabbed him by the arm.
***
Lilith and Caleb leaned forward, inching their faces closer to the TV.
“Is there a better angle?” Lilith asked, an excited sweat beginning to glisten on her face. Her breathing came in quick, sharp gulps, and her eyes were wide and unblinking. She looked like a child who had finally been granted permission to tear into her mountain of birthday presents and just didn’t know where to start.
Caleb held up the remote and clicked around to the different camera feeds. At last he found a good one. A wide-shot from the opposite wall that clearly showed Lilith’s dad grabbing at the crossbow.
But Coach Sanborn wouldn’t let go. A struggle began.
“Money on Coach Sanborn,” Caleb said.
“Shoot him in the balls, Coach.”
Big O ran in between the two men. “Stop it! Stop it! We’re not doing this. We have to work together.”
Lilith turned to glare at Caleb. “What the hell is up with this tool? You said he was an asshole.”
“Big O? He is.”
“Then why isn’t he killing people, Caleb? He’s keeping everyone calm. He’s ruining my wedding!”
As the three men wrestled for the crossbow a bolt shot out of the weapon. It flew across the room.
Gasps and screams rose from the crowd.
“Did it hit someone?” Lilith asked.
“I think so.”
“Who? Who?”
“One of your sorority sisters. Jasmine.”
“Hells yeah, bitch!” Lilith grabbed a champagne bottle from an ice bucket beside the bed. “Let’s pour one out for Delta-Gamma-DIE.” She tipped the bottle over and poured its bubbly contents all over the rug.
The Event Planner kept her expression neutral. She made note to have that rug cleaned.
***
Amy’s mouth hung open.
A hush fell over the ballroom.
For a moment, Jasmine remained in a proper, sitting position. Her wide eyes seemed to go a bit crossed as she stared at the shaft protruding from the center of her head. A steady bead of blood ran down past her nose, over the crest of her lips, before dripping onto the floor.
Gravity seemed to kick in and she toppled over.
All eyes then turned from her to the man who held the crossbow.
“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Coach Sanborn stammered out.
“And we have a murder!” the DJ announced. “Hold up that wrist-band.”
Coach Sanborn obeyed the request and raised his trembling arm. His bracelet light glowed red like everyone else’s. But then…
Click!
He flinched and shut his eyes. After a moment, he opened them to look. The bracelet hadn’t exploded. In fact, the light had turned off.
Everyone quietly stared at the coach as he inspected his bracelet.
At that same moment, the staff door beside the stage swung open.
“Right through those doors, coach,” the DJ’s voice bellowed out over the silent ballroom. “Congratulations on winning the first kill of the night award. We promise to get you home safely. Let’s hear it for Coach Sanborn, everyone!”
The coach didn’t move. He stood there, glancing from the mysterious door to the shocked faces of the rest of the guests.
“Hey, we get it,” the DJ said. “You got trust issues. But that’s what weddings are all about, man. Learning to believe in someone other than yourself. Learning to take a leap. Just know that this Venue has a perfect five-star review rating from our customers because we guarantee our word.”
The DJ swayed in his booth as he spoke, as though he had a soundtrack constantly playing through his head.
“We say ‘no tipping,’ we mean ‘no tipping.’ We say, ‘free booze,’ we mean ‘free booze.’ No catches. No hidden fees. So, when we say we’re just gonna wipe your memory and let you go home, our word is our bond. What kinda establishment would we be if we went back on that? Now come on, people, join me in a countdown before that door closes.”
He waved his arms for everyone to count with him.
“Ten… Nine… Eight… Seven… Six…”
No one joined in.
“It… it was an accident,” Coach Sanborn said.
Then he turned and jogged across the ballroom toward the door.
***
Caleb and Lilith watched the coach run out of the ballroom.
The staff door swung shut behind him.
The crowd sat in silence.
“This is bullshit. Why do these people suck so much?” Lilith’s face settled into a glare. “I want blood. I want to stare into their eyes as they realize how savage they truly are. When all their preconceived notions of themselves fall away like charred leaves, I want to be there. To watch their souls abandon them. To leave them with nothing but a black emptiness.”
“I mean, sure, me too,” Caleb said.
“My wedding is a disaster.”
“Sweetie, don’t say that. This is what we signed up for. I really wanted Coach Sanborn to die. I had dreams of him cowering and hiding, and now, he gets to go home. But that’s fine. It’s what we planned.”
She crossed her arms and stuck out her lower lip. He remembered the first time she made that face during the early months of their relationship. He thought it was adorable. It didn’t appear to be a conscious decision on Lilith’s part to imitate a pouting baby; it was just the way she responded to frustrating circumstances.
It reminded Caleb of the face that Amy used to make when he couldn’t come out to play; his mom was always making him do extracurriculars to boost
his college application chances. Never mind that he was only in fourth grade at the time. He always had violin lessons or conversational French classes or a specially arranged permission to observe the high school’s Model U.N. debates. He’d tell Amy he couldn’t have a squirt gun war and she’d cross her arms, make an exaggerated pouty face, and kick out her legs.
He didn’t even realize how endearing he found those goofy Amy faces until he saw Lilith do them.
Not that he thought of Amy when he was with Lilith.
That would be a betrayal.
Of course, soon he learned that when Lilith crossed her arms and creased her face into that deep scowl, it was because a true seethe had taken control of her muscles. And if he didn’t diffuse whatever angered her at that time, she would explode.
“I believe I have a solution,” the Event Planner spoke up. She had been hovering by the door. “I know that sometimes it’s challenging to get the guests to participate in the festivities. From my experience, it’s best if the event’s host and hostess set the example and show everyone how to engage.”
With that, she threw open the door.
A bellhop, who apparently had been summoned to wait outside for just this moment, wheeled in a cart. Displayed atop the cart were two matching archery sets. The bows were compound bows, sleek limbs held taut by pulleys, cables and cams. One was pink. The other blue.
“A wedding gift, from The Venue to you,” the Event Planner said as she took the bows from the cart and offered them out to Caleb and Lilith.
“The grips are formed to your hands. Our armorist guessed at the most efficient draw weight for each of you. I apologize that the modernistic design doesn’t match the medieval theme of the night. But special people deserve special weaponry.”
She held out quivers of arrows.
“Go have fun. Because that’s what weddings are all about.”
CHAPTER 13
Amy kept her body still, but her eyes darted back and forth, trying to take in as much of the situation as possible.
People were quietly positioning the steak knives near where they could quickly grab them.
The throwing stars that everyone received as a wedding favor were subtly hidden in pockets and laps.
