One-Eyed Jack

by Kristi Belcamino

  He’d show up at work like normal. He’d use his key to get into the backstage area of the auditorium and then he’d jump out onto the stage and mow down the entire audience like fucking shooting fish in a pond. It was brilliant. All the stage lights would be on him, and he’d just aim for heads in the audience.

  The best part was that, to get to all of those heads, he’d first shoot all of the women on stage. They’d fall like Dominos. They’d drop in a massive pile of perfume and lipstick and high heels.

  He’d written the manifesto and was ready to post it on the Incel Nation site right before he began. He’d outlined his plan in detail and his reasoning. But he gave the wrong location. It should buy him time. If the One-Eyed Jack was working with the cops, it would be an effective decoy.

  They would all be heading to the wrong place.

  But first he would take care of the One-Eyed Jack. Just to be safe.

  And to punish him for lying. He’d pretended to rape that girl, but it must’ve been his girlfriend. She must’ve been in on it, or why would Jack have been visiting her at the hospital? It was a loose end he was having a hard time with. The video had looked so real.

  He tried to go back and watch it again, but it had disappeared. He’d heard about programs that would destroy files after so many views. He didn’t know how they worked, but when he went to find the .mpv it was gone. Fuck. That made him worry even more. Only someone like the cops would know how to do that, right?

  35

  “I have an idea. You might not like it,” Conrad said.

  Eva didn’t drop her gaze. “Keep talking.”

  “We post the pictures we have on your site—the Queen of Spades one—and we ask everyone to share it, to spread the word, to help find him. Even if he doesn’t look like that now, maybe somebody from his past will recognize him.”

  Eva didn’t answer. It wasn’t the worst idea ever.

  “That’s it,” Molly said. “That’s how we find him.”

  Conrad continued. “You have 680,000 followers, Eva.”

  “What?” Eva shook her head. “Are you kidding me?”

  Conrad smiled. “That’s a lot of people. We can harness them to spread the word. Tell anyone from Florida that we especially need them.”

  “It’s a good idea. But I have no idea how to do it.”

  Molly stood and headed over to the café table where Eva’s laptop was set up.

  “You let us handle it.”

  Within fifteen minutes, with Eva hovering over their shoulder, Molly and Conrad had posted the pictures on the website. It was all they had until they heard back from the doctor.

  The text to put with the pictures was easy:

  URGENT. This man is threatening to commit a mass shooting in the next twenty-four hours. Please share this post and picture and help us find him. If you spot him or know who he is, don’t approach. He is armed and extremely dangerous. Call 911 or message us here.

  Eva had called Jonathan as they worked to craft the copy on the post. “I need you on the messages for the site, 24/7.”

  “Done,” he said.

  Eva was satisfied, but she worried that a corrupt cop would be the one to respond. It was a chance they’d have to take. If someone saw him walking into a conference hall armed, calling 911 was the only proper response.

  But if someone saw him hanging out in his car a few miles away, Eva wanted to be the one to take him down.

  It was a gamble.

  The most important part was to stop a mass shooting and to keep anybody who saw him safe.

  “Publish it,” Eva said. Then she jumped as her phone dinged. “Wait!”

  Dr. Frank had come through.

  It was a picture of a blonde man with ice-blue eyes.

  “I’ve seen him,” Eva said.

  “Where?” Conrad said.

  She held out the phone to Molly.

  “Oh my God. It was that guy who poked his head in my hospital room.”

  Conrad leaned over. “Fuck me! He talked to me. Oh my God. In the hall.”

  “He’s onto you,” Eva said.

  “Maybe not,” Conrad said. “We hid my face in the video.”

  Molly shook her head. “But in that one shot, he could’ve seen your profile.”

  Conrad shrugged. “Let’s get this online asap. “How hard is it to replace the mug shot with this photo?” Eva asked.

  “AirDrop it,” Conrad said.

  After a few seconds on the computer, he said, “Let’s do this.”

  The post went live.

  “Now what?” Molly said.

  “Now, we wait.”

  Eva examined the girl. Molly looked exhausted. And wan. Having a swollen, broken nose and two black eyes didn’t help.

  “Eat your food. And then you, my dear, are going to go crawl under the covers in the bedroom and take a nap,” Eva told her.

  “No.” She met Eva’s eyes. Few people could look Eva in the eye and refuse her. She nearly smiled, but kept her face stern.

  “Molly?” Conrad’s voice had a pleading tone. “You just had the crap beat out of you. Maybe you should rest for just a little bit.” But then he turned to Eva. “She’s in this. As much as we are. Maybe more. He tried to rape her.”

  “I’m not arguing that,” Eva said. She turned to Molly. “You’re going to go rest for a while, or you’re out.” Eva used her best mom voice. Hearing herself, a large lump rose in her throat. But she swallowed it down. “I promise if anything happens, anything at all, we’ll wake you, okay?”

  “You promise?” Molly sounded like a little girl. And she also sounded relieved.

  “Yes.”

  Molly didn’t respond, but she headed for the bedroom. When the door closed, Eva turned to Conrad.

  He was back on Eva’s laptop. “I’m just checking for new posts on Incel Nation.”

  “He was probably too busy killing his parents to post.”

  Conrad blanched at her words. She cringed. She had to remember he was still a kid, really. He hadn’t seen the dead bodies and violence that she had.

  36

  Conrad/Username: One-EyedJack

  Conrad felt terrible lying to Eva and Molly, but stopping Sebastian was his sole responsibility. The surgeon they all worshipped was Dr. Frank, but Conrad was Dr. Frankenstein. He’d created the monster that Sebastian had become.

  He would be responsible for stopping him.

  That nurse had seen his future. She knew he was alive for this reason and this reason only.

  It had to be a solo mission.

  He’d been thinking about the message from Sebastian and trying to figure out what game the guy was playing. One thing was sure—he wasn’t telling the truth. Which meant that the beauty product conference was out. Sebastian had told him to meet at the hotel where the conference was. When he was pretending to search the Incel Nation site, he’d pulled up the conference schedule from the company’s website. Tomorrow was a “free day” for conference attendees. So that was out. He searched for information on the Miss America pageant. A major competition in the pageant was being held that night. It began at 6:00 p.m.

  That was it.

  Sebastian wanted him across town at the other hotel at six so he wouldn’t be anywhere near the Miss America pageant. The same hotel they were in at that very moment. A shiver ran down his spine. He had to get down there somehow without Eva suspecting anything.

  Eva was on her laptop trying to hack into the incel website to find an ISP, even though she knew Sebastian was using a VPN.

  Conrad looked at the closed door to the bedroom. Even though he’d protested that Molly was part of it, he had been lying.

  He’d decided that meeting her had been the best thing that ever happened to him.

  They were friends. Real friends.

  But he also knew they would never be more than friends.

  That was reality.

  At first, he hoped that her friendship would be enough. But he quickly realized it wasn’t.

/>   And when he’d found out she’d been attacked, his entire reason for living had been honed into a laser sharp focus on one thing—making Sebastian pay.

  Maybe with his life.

  It had begun with him wanting to stop the mass shooting, but Sebastian had made it personal. He’d taken what Conrad had essentially handed him—Molly—and tried to destroy her. She was the only pure, good thing in his life.

  He was going to stop Sebastian even if it meant he would die doing so. He was prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice.

  So, as Eva talked and plotted and tried to find Sebastian, he was doing his own sleuthing.

  He logged onto Incel Nation and privately messaged Sebastian.

  “I know what you did.”

  His heart raced when he saw an immediate response—it was simply a question mark.

  “Your parents,” he typed.

  He held his breath, waiting for Sebastian to reply.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I know who you are, Sebastian Carlson.”

  This time the response didn’t come for a full minute.

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “You went after my Stacy.”

  “So?”

  “That’s unacceptable.”

  “Whatever.”

  Eva glanced over. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine. Just asking some people in the community if they can help.”

  She nodded.

  He typed another message. “It’s personal now. You and me…unless you are afraid. I still want to meet you at the hotel.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “You can make up for it. I won’t tell anyone your real name until it’s over. If I’m still alive.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I told you. I want in.”

  “I already told you. This is a solo mission.”

  “You can have all the glory. I just want to play a part. I want to kill someone. You.” He typed it and his stomach roiled at the words. He hoped he seemed convincing.

  After a few seconds, Sebastian replied.

  “That might be a possibility. Be ready to die.”

  “I was born ready.”

  “I’ll be in touch in ten minutes with a location.”

  His heart was pounding when he looked up from his phone. Eva was staring at him.

  “You okay?”

  He nodded, hoping she didn’t see his shaking hands.

  “I’ve got to run. I’ll be back soon,” he said.

  She gave him a look, but he didn’t stick around for a response.

  37

  Sebastian/Chad/Username: ChadHater

  The clock was ticking. He would strike right before the pageant finals officially started at 5:55. The women would be lined up on stage, and the place would be packed. Meanwhile, the One-Eyed Jack would be across town at the wrong place.

  He logged off his laptop. He hadn’t really been working anyway. He’d spent most of his time at the coffee shop talking to Carly. He liked how she thought he was busy with work. She’d said, “When you’re done, we should talk.”

  He closed his laptop lid and turned to her. She was a student on spring break visiting her grandmother. She had just got into town the night before and had hoped to meet some people her own age. Her grandmother was sweet but really not very mobile.

  She’d actually come to the coffee shop hoping to meet people.

  “I can definitely show you around,” Sebastian said. “I’m busy tonight, but tomorrow I’m free.”

  “That sounds great,” Carly said. And she obviously really meant it. But she paused. “What are you doing tonight?”

  He froze. He would want to talk about it to someone. He could do this in a way that would not only be fun but would also give him an alibi.

  “I’m a valet at the Miss America pageant. It’s just a side job my dad made me take to prove I’m worthy of the inheritance.”

  “Oh!” She looked surprised.

  He stood. The only thing left was to give her his number.

  He decided to use a method he’d dreamed of practicing for years. He’d scoffed when he read about players doing it on pick up websites, and now here he was doing it himself.

  “Give me your phone.” He sounded confident, in charge, an alpha male.

  She raised an eyebrow but smiled and handed it over.

  He punched in the name Chad and his number.

  Then he handed her phone back, placing it in her hand and putting his own hand over hers. “Call me.”

  Then he stood and walked out.

  Once outside, his thoughts turned to the One-Eyed Jack’s message.

  As soon as he was at the hotel, he’d text him back. But first he’d post the manifesto and then tell the One-Eyed Jack to check the website. That would send him racing for the wrong hotel. By the time he got there and realized he’d been tricked, Sebastian would either be dead or a hero. Or both.

  38

  Conrad/Username: One-EyedJack

  Conrad had taken the elevator down to the basement. It was bustling with employees in white and black uniforms. He nodded as if he belonged and walked past them. Everyone stopped and stared. Well no shit. For a second, he’d forgotten he had a face that would never blend into a crowd. He’d planned on pretending he was part of the hired help but immediately realized that would be impossible.

  “You lost, buddy?” The guy looked like the head chef.

  “Yeah. I’m looking for the garage.”

  “Oh. No problem. I can get you there from here. There’s a back way we use. It’ll save you from having to go up to the lobby again. It’s a zoo up there right now.”

  “That’s exactly what I was trying to avoid,” Conrad said. He thought, this is the best possible place to have been stopped.

  He tried not to act frantic. He willed himself to appear calm. But he’d just gotten a text in the elevator—ChadHater had posted the manifesto on Incel Nation. He’d read it as fast as he could, skipping over words until he got to a proper name. The beauty convention. At the Marriott hotel a few blocks away. But Conrad knew better. It was here. The manifesto was another decoy.

  Eva texted him a few seconds later.

  “He posted his manifesto. The Marriot. In a few minutes. I’m on my way.”

  He’d been about to respond when the elevator doors opened, thrusting him into the basement kitchen.

  39

  Eva’s phone dinged as she raced out of the elevator and ran toward the lobby. She’d left Molly napping in the hotel suite. Mentally, she was calculating how long it would take her to get to the Marriott.

  At the valet stand, she leaned over and yanked her keys off the hook and ran to her car, which was parked at one end of the circle drive. As she ran, she opened the text.

  It was another photo from Dr. Frank.

  A picture of a handsome young man appeared. He had a sculpted jaw and cheekbones, Blonde hair. Ice blue eyes. Tan skin.

  It was different than the last one he’d sent. The doctor had written: “This is most recent. Last month. Took me a bit to find it. Still on our office camera.”

  He looked very little like the graduation photo. He bore some resemblance to the first photo the doctor had sent, but the images were still different enough that it could be two different people.

  Eva stared again at the picture as she waited at a red light, pounding the steering wheel. Something was niggling at her. She’d seen him before—and not just that glimpse at the hospital. But where? Where had it been? This definitely wasn’t the first time she’d seen his face. It was something about his eyes.

  She had just pulled up to the Marriott Hotel where the beauty convention was when it hit her like a punch to the gut. She remembered where she’d seen him before. He was the valet at her hotel. The one with the weird ice-blue contacts.

  Which would give him unfettered access to the hotel where the Miss America pageant was being held.

  40


  Conrad/Username: One-EyedJack

  The head chef led him to a door in the back of the kitchen. He opened it. It led to a narrow hallway.

  The chef looked back into the kitchen behind him. “I’ve got to get an order going, so you’re on your own from here,” the man said. “Go down this hall to the right, and you’ll see the door that says garage. Easy-peasy. This hall is like the secret passageway to get anywhere in this hotel.”

  “Thank you.”

  Conrad waited until the door closed and then took a left. As the chief had been talking, he’d oriented himself in the kitchen and realized the auditorium where the pageant was had to be in that direction.

  He raced down the hall and then heard the sound of muffled music and voices. Yes! He came to a door marked “Stage.” Inside, it was dark. Dim theater lights on the floor lit the hall. He followed them until the space opened up into a dimly lit backstage area. He was behind some curtains. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. Beyond the curtains, an announcer was introducing contestants. He heard squeals and giggles.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of our bathing suit competition is Miss Tennessee.”

  The crowd on the stage and in the audience erupted in screams and whistles.

  Just then he saw movement. It was Sebastian. Conrad couldn’t see his face. All he saw was the man’s silhouette. He looked like a soldier. He was bulked up with rounds of ammunition draped over him like the girls in the pageant had their banners with state names draped over them. Conrad saw the silhouette of a massive assault rifle held to his side.

  Sebastian flung open the curtain, and the lights struck him. Conrad could see him clearly now. He wore a black ski mask and two other assault rifles were slung over his shoulders. The one he held was raised, aimed toward the women lined up in front of him.

  Conrad hadn’t even realized he was running until he cleared the curtain. He watched as ChadHater raised his arm and pointed the weapon.