The Venue

by T J Payne

  Amy couldn’t tell if the two were simply kissing or actually having sex up there. Some curious, morbid corner of her mind wanted to stare longer and figure it out, but that voice was quickly overruled.

  Amy pushed herself off the ground, convinced her feet to keep moving beneath her, and then she ran.

  CHAPTER 22

  Amy thought about running back to the gym. It was the last place she had felt relatively safe. But she couldn’t bring herself to go in that direction. It wasn’t that she couldn’t run back up that grand staircase; it was that she didn’t want to.

  She momentarily thought about cinching her tourniquet and running straight out the front door. The road was all downhill. Maybe she could stumble her way to safety before the shock of losing her arm caused her to pass out.

  But that didn’t feel like much of a plan either.

  Really, all she wanted to do was to curl into a ball in the corner of the foyer and hope that death would be quick and painless.

  Her legs kept moving, kept carrying her in some forward direction. They didn’t seem to want to stop just yet, or at least her mind was struggling to properly relay such orders. And so, on she went.

  It occurred to her that sitting down might lead to the one thing she definitely did not want — time to absorb the death of her parents.

  The image of her mother’s head collapsing beneath the weight of an iron bar…

  Her father’s blood gurgling up through the arrow hole in his neck…

  Amy didn’t consciously push the thoughts away. Maybe it was a survival mechanism buried deep in her subconscious that did the work for her. In any case, a grey mist shrouded the memories and carried them from her mind. She’d think about them later.

  The leaden weight that had settled into her legs and body drifted off with the memories. Amy found a new strength in the numbness. And it felt good.

  She pushed on the nearest door and soon found that she had re-entered the ballroom. A morbid curiosity had overtaken her. Mariko was surely dead in here somewhere. Lilith must have finished her off before chasing them into the chapel.

  Mariko was certainly a scrapper. Amy always admired her toughness and calm. But she wasn’t a fighter of Lilith’s caliber.

  Apparently, few people were.

  There was a bloodlust in Lilith that Amy had never seen before. She couldn’t imagine such hate and callousness existing in a normal person. This was a beast. A monster forged in resentment.

  The music in the ballroom played loudly, as usual. This time, it was Frank Sinatra (or maybe Dean Martin — Amy always struggled to tell the difference) crooning about love. The DJ, his sunglasses on, swayed in his booth as he mouthed the words along with the song.

  Amy had to shout to make her voice heard above the music. “Mariko!?” she called out. “Mariko?!”

  The sound of a door opening made Amy freeze. Part of her wanted to look around for something, anything, that she could use as a weapon. Another part of her wanted to look for somewhere, anywhere, to hide. Her muscles somehow got stuck in the middle of that mental tug-a-war and she ended up standing there, dumbly waiting for whoever had entered to rush over and finish her off.

  But it was Caleb’s mom and dad who strolled in through the far door. They walked toward Amy.

  Mr. Hunt’s face was empty. He followed behind his wife as though she were pulling him on a string.

  Caleb’s mom, meanwhile, fixed her eyes on the arched ceiling that dripped with crystal chandeliers. A blissful smile spread on her lips as she twirled around, swaying her body to the song. She soaked up the moment but seemed determined not to let her gaze drift too low. Even as she slipped slightly on a patch of blood, she regained her footing without ever peering down.

  “So beautiful. So, so beautiful,” she said to herself.

  Amy realized that the DJ had actually lowered the volume of the music, allowing the room to be quiet enough for Amy to hear Caleb’s mom speak.

  “Mrs. Hunt?” Amy said. She didn’t really have anything to say. She didn’t even know why she called out the woman’s name. It just seemed like she should make her presence known, as Mrs. Hunt clearly hadn’t noticed her.

  Finally, Caleb’s mom’s head tilted down. Her eyes went wide with joy as she saw Amy.

  “Wasn’t it a wonderful wedding, Amy?” Caleb’s mom said as she crossed the room to grab Amy’s shoulders in a friendly embrace. The smile stretched widely across the woman’s face. Her eyes were glassy as her gaze focused intently on Amy, and only Amy.

  Amy stood and just stared back at the woman.

  “Look at how beautiful it all is,” Caleb’s mom said. “Lovely. Just lovely. Caleb is doing so well for himself.” She then repeated, “Caleb is doing so well for himself. Caleb is doing so well for himself.” It was as though her brain had gotten caught in a loop.

  Amy looked to the side. At some point, Caleb’s dad had peeled off from his wife and wandered toward the cake table in front of the stage. His large shoulders, which Amy always thought looked tight and tense, now slouched in defeat. His head stayed angled up, giving his entire posture the appearance of an old turtle.

  This was the man whom Amy had been so frightened of when she was a kid. This was the man whom Caleb could never impress.

  Caleb’s dad picked up a cake knife and served two slices of cake onto gold-rimmed plates.

  “They… they said the frosting…” Amy stuttered. She felt her own mind struggle to make sense of the moment. “It’s made with… um…” She couldn’t get the word “cyanide” out. She felt as though she were in a dream, trying to speak, trying to scream but unable.

  “I know we pushed him hard, but he’s grateful to us each and every day,” Caleb’s mom continued. Her smile somehow grew wider as a proud tear rolled its way down her cheek. “I couldn’t be happier. Thank you for sharing this day with us, Amy. You’re a true friend.”

  For a moment, Amy felt like joining Mrs. Hunt in her bliss. She felt like hugging the woman and thanking her for the invite. She felt like closing her eyes and dancing to the music. She felt like having a few drinks too many, then throwing rice and hollering at the bride and groom as they drove off to their honeymoon. She felt like stumbling back to someone’s room — Lilith’s hot sorority friends, perhaps — and hooking up.

  Or maybe not those girls. Maybe someone else.

  After all, Amy couldn’t let Mariko go back to the room alone. Amy’s parents were sure to retire for the night early (they could barely stay up past ten). Amy and Mariko could have a few more drinks and go to the hot tub in their underwear. It wouldn’t be long before they’d be making out and fingering each other.

  They could go back to the room and… oh, boy… Mariko knew how to get Amy off. And Amy would return the favor. No matter how drunk they got together, each of them always returned the favor.

  Oh, sure, it would be awkward in the morning. A bit of shame, a bit of embarrassment, and a whole lot of hangover. She had broken up with Mariko, after all, and Amy was still sure that it had been the right decision.

  Why had they broken up again?

  It didn’t matter.

  This was a wedding. Weddings were fun.

  Amy should be having fun.

  “How are your parents, Amy?” Caleb’s dad asked. She looked. He stood beside her, two plates of red velvet cake heaped with white, glistening frosting in his hands.

  “Dead,” Amy said.

  Just saying the word snapped her back to the moment. She looked around for Mariko. She suddenly had to see Mariko’s body.

  “Sorry ‘bout that,” Caleb’s dad muttered. He held a plate of cake toward his wife.

  “You rogue. You know I can’t eat gluten,” she said, playfully slapping him on the shoulder. “Oh, what the heck. It’s a cheat day. Our son only gets married once.”

  She took the plate from his hand. The two of them stepped over to a nearby table and sat down with their cake. Caleb’s dad held a fork full of frosting toward his mouth, pausi
ng to stare at it for a moment. He sniffed it. Amy could see a bead of sweat roll down his forehead.

  “You know they said it’s made with…” Amy began. But she saw the man’s eyes go empty again. In a quick burst of will power, he scooped the frosting into his mouth and swallowed it. He grabbed an open champagne bottle from the center of the table and took a long swig.

  Caleb’s mom, meanwhile, took small, delicate bites of cake. “Mmmm-hmmm.” She rolled it around her mouth, savoring the moment. “Lovely,” she said.

  Caleb’s dad suddenly jerked in his seat. His body seized and his face turned red. Then purple. Foam poured from the sides of his mouth as veins bulged in his forehead. He doubled over, coughing out frothy, white bile that was soon streaked with blood.

  As her husband seized and gagged, Caleb’s mom simply stared off. A wistful light danced in her eyes. “It’s such a shame that everyone left so early. They must be jealous. That’s it. They’re jealous. Do you think any of their kids could afford a wedding like this? I don’t. It must be hard for everyone to see how well Caleb is doing. They’re just jealous. Just jealous. So sad.”

  Her husband’s head thudded onto the table.

  Caleb’s mom reached out and grasped his hand. “We’re such good parents. Such good parents. Such good parents.”

  And then she burped.

  Amy looked away. Something caught her eye. A splash of sea-green fabric peeked out from beneath a blood red table cloth. She recognized that silky dress.

  She ran over to the table and pulled back the linens.

  There she was.

  Mariko.

  She lay motionless on the floor. Her skin was pale. Her smooth dress was splattered with blood.

  But then Mariko coughed.

  Mariko’s mind seemed to register that there wasn’t a table cloth blocking out the light anymore. Her eyes opened and she stared up at Amy. A confused look flashed across Mariko’s face, as though she couldn’t quite piece together what Amy was doing welcoming her to the afterlife.

  They stared at each other for a moment before Amy crouched down and looped her hands under Mariko’s arms. With a heave, she pulled Mariko out from underneath the table.

  Mariko’s left arm was nothing but stringy tatters of flesh where her wrist used to be. But no blood escaped the wound. The tourniquet seemed to have done its job despite the skin between it and the injury having turned a cold, dead gray.

  “I need your help. I’m not strong enough to carry you myself,” Amy said, cupping Mariko’s face in her hands and shaking her. She didn’t know if that’s what one was supposed to do to an injured person, but it seemed to work. Mariko’s eyes focused in on Amy’s.

  Mariko didn’t say anything, but she managed a nod.

  Amy pulled Mariko into a sitting position beside her. She wrapped Mariko’s good arm around her. “We’ll stand on three,” Amy said. “One… two… three!”

  Together, they heaved themselves off the tiled floor.

  “We have to get out of here,” Amy said. “They’ll be coming back soon.”

  Mariko seemed to understand. Her legs began moving, supporting as much weight as they could. Amy’s did too. Together, they limped toward the door.

  “You have fun, dear,” Amy heard Caleb’s mom call out to her. The woman’s voice was much hoarser than before. A burping and gagging sound interrupted her words. Despite the hoarseness, Caleb’s mom still had a pleasant cadence to her speech. “We’re going to stay a bit longer. So many people to catch up with.”

  Amy carried Mariko toward the door without ever glancing back at Caleb’s parents.

  As they left, Amy was sure she heard the thudding sound of Caleb’s mom collapsing to the floor.

  CHAPTER 23

  With Mariko’s arm slung over her shoulder, Amy stumbled out into the foyer. At the far end, the chapel door still hung open.

  How long had it been since Amy had escaped Lilith? Several minutes, at least.

  Had Caleb and Lilith already left the chapel? Were they elsewhere in the building? Or would they emerge from that foreboding blackness any moment, arrows pulled taut on bows, and shoot them down?

  There was nowhere to hide in the foyer. No place for cover.

  “Hurry,” Amy said softly.

  She felt Mariko’s weight lift slightly off her. Mariko seemed to be coming to. Perhaps a new burst of adrenaline had kicked into her system. Whatever it was, Amy welcomed it because she didn’t have the strength to carry Mariko alone.

  Together, Amy and Mariko limped across the foyer, passing in plain view of the chapel door. Amy didn’t look, though. If she turned, she feared it would only invite arrows to emerge from the darkness.

  On they went. Arm-in-arm.

  Their legs tried to keep pace with each other. Mariko’s steps were weaker, but her legs were longer. Their stride never quite aligned and Amy worried that one false step, one little leg tangle, would send them both plummeting to the ground, exposed and vulnerable.

  But they managed to make it through the foyer and into the main lobby.

  The door to the front entrance stood open.

  It occurred to Amy that Mariko didn’t have a control bracelet anymore. There was no consequence for Mariko rushing out that door and descending the mountain to safety. If Amy tightened her own tourniquet, then she could do likewise.

  But at that moment, Mariko’s legs buckled. She grew heavy on Amy’s shoulder. They’d never make it down the mountain alive.

  She looked toward the grand staircase. Despite the number of times she had gone up and down it, those stone steps never seemed as high and insurmountable as they did at that moment.

  With no other destination in mind, Amy looked toward the front desk, built in an alcove beneath the grand staircase.

  “Over there,” she said.

  With their legs tripping over each other, they stumbled toward it. The wrap-around desk was solidly built from one end of the alcove to the other. Amy heaved Mariko up onto the desk. Mariko spun her legs around and then climbed down onto the other side.

  Amy followed after her.

  She expected to see a crowd of guests in hiding, but the area behind the desk was empty. Maybe because it was so close to the ballroom. Maybe because there was a staff door right beside it. Whatever the reason, Amy and Mariko had found a little hidden fortress for themselves. A tight space. But seemingly safe.

  Mariko propped herself into a sitting position.

  Her breathing stayed low and steady. Her face was pale and her head drooped from exhaustion. But then she looked up and her eyes connected with Amy’s. An alertness seemed to retake Mariko’s gaze and Amy soon felt that her old friend was studying her, attempting to decipher the answer to the most obvious unspoken question. What happened to your dad?

  Amy looked down. That seemed to be answer enough for Mariko.

  From somewhere overhead, the DJ’s voice came out over a speaker. “Heeeey, party people!” the DJ shouted out. “We gonna be wrapping things up here soon. You got about thirty minutes to hit up the open bar, hit up the dance floor, or hit up someone over the head with a hammer. They say, ‘Go big or go home.’ Well, in this case, it’s ‘Go bad and go home.’ You wanna see your kids again? You wanna see your friends? You wanna put this all behind you? Then let’s see that kill count rise!”

  Amy and Mariko sat there quietly.

  “You can kill me, you know,” Mariko finally said. Her voice was stronger than Amy expected.

  “Oh? You won’t mind?”

  “Just do it. I’m easy.”

  “Yeah, you are. Little slut.” Amy smiled. Mariko didn’t laugh.

  “You have a chance, Amy. Take that lamp, hit me on the head, and walk through that door.”

  Amy looked up. A bronze lamp sat on the desk. It looked dense, heavy.

  “How do I know we can trust them?”

  Mariko smiled and shook her head. “Well, I think you can trust that they won’t let us live if you don’t. Why not try Door Numbe
r Two?”

  “Because Door Number Two involves me bashing your head in.”

  “I’m sure you’ve wanted to before.”

  “Don’t joke. Not about this.”

  Mariko nodded in agreement. “Look, I obviously don’t know what happens if you walk through those doors. They might give you a trophy. They might shoot you in the back of the head.”

  “True.”

  “All I know is that on the other side of those doors is a chance. On this side, all you get is Bridezilla and—” she held up her left arm and tourniquet.

  They sat there quietly for a moment.

  “I’m gonna die here anyway,” Mariko said. “You can make it easy on me. Give yourself a fighting chance. It’s a pretty good trade-off.”

  Amy looked at her. Mariko’s gaze stayed firm. It was a look Amy knew well. Mariko wasn’t saying what she thought Amy wanted to hear. She had diagnosed the situation and meant every word.

  But Amy shook her head. “I’m not killing you.”

  “Damnit, Amy.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Just fucking do it.”

  “No.”

  “It’s right here. Everything you need is right here. And if you pass this up, I swear to God—”

  “I can’t! Okay? I can’t do it.”

  “If you don’t, and someone finds us here, they will.”

  “No, they won’t,” Amy said. She heard her mom’s voice speaking through her. “We’re not the people Caleb and Lilith think we are.”

  “Amy…”

  Amy looked away. They both understood from years of confrontation that Amy was done with the conversation.

  Mariko leaned her head back. Her eyes drifted closed. “I’m dying anyway.”

  “You got hours of blood in you. Don’t be dramatic.”

  “Don’t be a pussy.”

  As Amy was about to respond, a burst of static crackled through the room as the speakers turned on again. It surprised Amy that she didn’t hear the DJ’s voice calling out through the building. It was a woman’s voice. Soft and trembling. “Hello… m-m-my name is Chelsea. Lilith and I are cousins.”