Domino said nothing.
“I’ve been watching you, Domino. You and Amy. You’ve got no secrets from me. Love her new place by the way. Guess the old one had too much of that dead husband vibe about it? Yeah, I imagine it did.”
His voice low and assured, Domino said, “You’ve got the advantage now; I know that. But if anything happens to Amy and those kids, no advantage will help you. You’ll die. I’ll find a way, and you’ll die.”
“Oh relax, tough guy. I have no interest in Amy and her little brats. She and I are square in my book. Though she did shoot me twice. But I hold you responsible for that; I know she couldn’t have done it without your help. Yes sir, this is all about you and me.”
“So this is about me helping Amy kill you?”
“Nah—this is about what you did to my father.”
Domino nodded once. “I see.”
“No—not yet you don’t.”
“All this on your own?” Domino said.
“I’ve got help. I’ve always got help. You know that.”
“More fucked up family?”
Monica pointed the barrel of the gun at Domino’s groin. “Don’t be mean, Mr. Taylor. I can still get you to do what I want sans cock and balls.”
Domino smirked.
“Keep pretending to be confident all you want. If you knew what was in store for you, I think your black ass would be clenching right about now.”
“So what’s in store for my black ass?”
“Games of course. Games, games, games.”
“Holy shit are you people mundane.”
Monica lit a cigarette and cracked her window. “You know you should be thanking me. You think those three guys you put in the hospital decided to drop all charges out of the goodness of their hearts?”
Domino cast an eye on her. “So that was you.”
“Duh—I couldn’t have you locked up on me.”
“You pay ’em off or fuck ’em? Ah, I’m splittin’ hairs aren’t I?”
“This from a guy who’s banging his dead friend’s wife.”
“If you’ve been as vigilant as you say you have, then you’d know that’s not true.”
Monica shrugged. “Even monkeys fall from trees. You could have banged her when I was on a coffee break.”
Domino said nothing.
They entered the outskirts of the Pines.
“Getting close,” Monica said. “Excited?”
“Anyone expecting us?”
“Well Ben of course.”
“What about your help?”
“She’ll be there. She’s keeping an eye on Ben.”
“She?”
Monica took a drag and smiled, smoke filtering from her nose and mouth as she spoke. “A disciple. She was posing as Ben’s girlfriend. Your girl Kathy was over the moon that her dorky son had finally found someone. She welcomed her into her home with open arms.” Monica started laughing. “It was like handing me a key to the fucking house.”
Domino didn’t respond, just continued driving deeper into the Pines.
“You’re going to need to start paying attention soon,” Monica said, flicking her butt out the window. “We’re definitely taking the road less travelled here.” She patted Domino’s thick leg. “Need our privacy.”
• • •
Domino had been in remote areas before. Serving for the Marine Corps had taken him many places overseas that appeared uninhabited. Only sudden gunfire would remind them they weren’t alone.
They were alone here in the Pines.
Domino killed the ignition and exited the Lexus.
Monica exited after. “Keys,” she said over the hood of the car.
Domino tossed them to her.
“What do you think?” Monica said.
They stood in a ghost town. Like some relic unearthed in the wake of an apocalyptic war. Dense forest surrounded the town in every direction. The road they’d taken into the abandoned town was makeshift; centuries of neglect had sealed all entry points with pine and foliage long ago.
One building stood out among the others, its obvious renovation among the surrounding geometry of dereliction the reason. The building was a two-story square of considerable size, yet devoid of character. Its shell stood with purpose, not glamour. Domino knew the interior of that shell was where purpose began.
“What am I looking at?” he said.
“For the next few days? Home.”
“Where’s Ben?”
“Inside.”
He faced her. “Show me.”
She smirked at his defiance. “I intend to.”
“Show me now.”
“Or what? You’ll leave? Hurt me?” She held up the gun for him to see, then tossed it to the ground. “I told you it was a metaphor. I wasn’t kidding. We’ve already established the big goose egg of options you have. Stop pretending like you have bargaining power.”
Domino clenched a fist. “If Ben isn’t in there—”
“You’ll what? You’ll what?” She grinned at him. “Short and curlys, Dommy.”
“Fuck you.”
“Play nice. For what it’s worth, I give you my word that if you continue to be a good boy, you will see Ben. If, however, you feel like being stupid, then Ben will die, you will die, and—wait for it—Amy and Carrie and Caleb will die.”
Domino twitched.
“Wow—that really is a sore spot, isn’t it. Didn’t I tell you to try and cover those buttons?” She shrugged. “No point now though, right? I already know where the buttons are. Tell me; is it an ego thing? Or is it more a I’m such a standup guy kinda thing?
“What I mean is; are your buttons so big when it comes to Amy and her brood because you failed them, and your pathetic male ego can’t handle losing? Or is it because you actually care for them, and feel bad for leaving Amy a widow, and her kids bastards?”
Domino twitched again, he couldn’t help it.
“Hmmm…seems like the latter. Though I wonder how much of the former factors in. In moments of reflection, I’d wager it does. And that only adds to the guilt doesn’t it? That selfishness the male ego is all but helpless to?”
“Monica…?”
A deep and serious voice, mocking his: “Domino…?”
“Can we please get started?” He glanced at the building. “I’m eager to finish whatever it is you have planned so I can break every bone in your body.”
Monica laughed. “Ask and you shall receive. This way please.”
52
Monica led Domino to the side of the building. A solitary steel door. Formidable locks above and below the knob.
“Your room, sir,” she said.
“And what’s in there?”
“I suppose a brief overview wouldn’t kill me. Let’s call this the starter room. For now, your job is to go inside and wait for further instructions from yours truly.”
“Ben in there?”
“He’s in the building, yes. The starter room? Negative.”
Domino took a step back from the door and craned his neck to look over the building’s exterior again. He squinted as he studied its design. He saw nothing he hadn’t seen after his initial survey upon arrival. He decided to fish with queries. “So what is it? A maze?”
Monica stuck her lower lip out in judgment as she considered his guess. “Mmm…ish. It certainly has some of the attributes of a maze.”
“Such as.”
“You may find it challenging like a maze.”
“How many rooms?”
“A few.”
“I make it to the last room, I get Ben, that it?”
“You truly are brains and brawn, my friend.”
Blatant lies, he thought. But what use would it be to challenge her on them now? You haven’t even stepped inside yet, gotten a feel for the place.
“I’m not making any demands,” Domino said. “I know I’ve got no leverage. But even you have to admit that for me to step foot inside this room, without certainty that Ben is actually
in the building…”
Monica nodded. It wasn’t a patronizing nod either. It was as if she expected such logic, and concurred. “Step inside and I will provide you with undeniable truth that Ben is inside…somewhere. But, I should remind you that he’s got someone babysitting him—always. And my eyes and ears will be everywhere once you’re inside. Are these facts a strong enough incentive for you to follow the rules?”
“They are.”
“Good.” Monica pulled a set of keys from her pocket and began unlocking the door. “Shall we begin?”
Domino slid the heavy steel door open and stepped inside the starter room.
53
The heavy steel door slid shut behind Domino. He stood in complete darkness. Three metallic clanks followed—Monica locking him in, securing her catch.
He had gotten a glimpse of the room while the door was open, and he’d spotted nothing of note. Nothing at all in fact. From that brief glimpse, he could have been stepping into an empty racquetball court. Still he figured it best to stay by the door until light emerged.
If it emerges, he thought. Is this her plan? To take me out in total darkness? No. No way.
Trying to crawl inside Monica’s head sickened Domino. Not for the horrifying content therein, no, but for the feeling of connection that resulted from the effort. A twisted bond of sorts between the two.
It was vital though. Domino knew the crazy bitch too well not to utilize such a thing. And he knew she would not construct…whatever the hell this was, only to throw him into a pit of darkness and kill him straight out. No sport in that. No fun. No game.
Yes, the bond was there, and it was like bile in his throat. He spit on the floor.
A sudden square of light on one of four walls. A movie projector, its temporarily white image large, covering nearly half of the sizeable wall.
The projector was enough to light the remainder of the room. Domino had been correct—it was akin to an empty racquetball court. The smell of new wood instead of plaster one of few exceptions. No wall of glass another.
The image of white from the projector blinked and went to black. Then to actual footage.
Ben. Just as Domino had remembered him. Tied to a chair, shirtless, face gone, the words I’M OK followed by the crude smiley face carved into his chest.
Standing next to Ben was a little blonde-haired girl. Domino guessed her at sixteen. She was smiling, waving at the camera. The disciple, Domino thought.
The disciple moved behind Ben’s chair, reached around and pulled his mouth upward into a smile face. Ben allowed it, offering no resistance, the flesh of his mouth slack and rubbery. The disciple began manipulating Ben’s mouth some more, a playful voice from the corner of her own mouth accompanying the manipulation. A ventriloquist and her doll. “Hi, Domino. I sure hope you find me!”
Domino yelled toward the ceiling. “This is bullshit! This could have been shot anywhere!”
He was surprised when the disciple froze after his outburst, letting go of Ben’s mouth and looking quizzically at the camera.
She heard me, Domino thought. That means they’re close.
He looked towards the back of the room, up at the ceiling. Squinted and spotted the projector. Saw an adjacent camera on either side of the projector.
Maybe not. She’s got this place wired up pretty good. My voice could have been transmitted somewhere via who knows how many speakers. Odds that it could have been transmitted off location? Possible.
He looked at the wall of film again. The disciple still wore the quizzical look on her face. Her expression was one of communique to the wizard behind the curtain, to her mentor: what to do now?
Domino studied the surroundings on the film. They appeared similar to his. A giant racquetball court of a room, seemingly empty save for Ben and the disciple and what he guessed to be a fixed camera before them.
Instinct told him they were close by. His gut told him they were in the building as Monica had said.
The next bond came instantly, and this too shot acid into Domino’s chest: she would not play the game with zero risk. Because then it’s not a game. It’s cheating.
The irony of rules coming into play when dealing with a sociopath like Monica was not lost on Domino. But unlike most sociopaths, Monica adhered to a warped sense of right and wrong. Earning something was right. Charity was wrong. Domino had witnessed the same behavior in Monica’s father. At one point during their encounter, Domino had been helpless. Her father could have killed him easily. Instead, he’d chosen to help Domino out of his bind and make their life and death battle a contest. No charity given; none asked for.
There was no reason to think his situation now was any different. Ben was here, in the building. Domino knew it, and he spat bile once again.
“You are going to clean that up I hope?” Monica’s voice overhead from powerful speakers.
Domino looked up at the ceiling. “If I get around to it.”
“To answer your question; I assure you that what you are witnessing is a live feed from somewhere inside this building. Kelly? Would you mind proving it to, Mr. Taylor, please?”
The disciple, Kelly she called her, walked towards the camera until her torso obscured all. Sounds of fiddling. The camera then shaking as it moved from its fixed position, heading towards a door in the room, Kelly directing.
Kelly’s hand coming in from the side of the screen, opening the door. Sunlight coming in fast, the image bleached for a few seconds. When it all settled, Domino saw Monica’s Lexus he’d driven into the Pines, parked before the building, maybe fifty yards away.
Domino’s mind became a sudden blueprint. The exit to Ben’s room was by the front of the building. This would make his room closer to Ben’s than he’d imagined. If Ben was to be the final room, wouldn’t he be positioned further away?
But it’s square, he thought. The building is square. The rooms are likely all connected, but not in a straight line; it isn’t structurally possible.
So we’re joined in a square, like spaces on a game board. Ben and I the pieces.
Kelly came back inside, closing the door behind her, sunlight gone with a final bang of the door slamming shut. The image on Domino’s wall bouncing again as Kelly placed the camera back in its fixed position—on Ben.
Kelly moved behind the chair again. Manipulated Ben’s slack face into another smile then waved goodbye into the camera. The image went from all black to all white after that, the white remaining, offering Domino decent light of his surroundings.
“Happy?” Monica’s voice asked from above.
“Satisfied,” Domino said to the ceiling.
“Good.”
The projector clicked off, and Domino was in darkness once again. Then a burst of light that made him squint and shield his eyes.
The room was completely lit now, no secrets. Four huge walls, all of them a beige wood. Two doors: the one he’d entered, and the one directly across from it, on the opposite side of the room. The ceiling sported what he’d already seen: cameras. She was watching him. He saw no speakers, but the power and clarity of her voice told him they were there. He also knew she could hear him. Speakers and transmitters.
Another curious note about the ceiling—a solitary square the size of a small door, smack in the ceiling’s center. It reminded Domino of a door-ladder leading up into an attic. Was she up there?
“So this is the starter room,” Monica said. “Thoughts?”
Domino shrugged. “Kinda blah. You might want to consider a decorator.”
He heard her laugh. “Yeah, my contractors aren’t much for interior decorating, but they’re extremely good at what they do. I’m very pleased with the final result.”
“Did they know what they were building?”
“Oh yes. As much as I hate to say it, seeing as you zinged me on it in the car, money and pussy can buy most anything in this world.”
“Apparently not self-respect.”
Another laugh. “That was pretty good.
Anywhooo…I pay my contractors well. When they were finished here I offered them an additional fifty grand each.”
“That was nice of you.”
“No, no—it wasn’t for the job they’d already done. It was for something new.”
“A pool?”
“There’s that hard-boiled wit again. I love it. No—I offered them fifty grand each to beat you to death.”
The locks started to clank on the steel door at the opposite end of the room.
“…An extra twenty to the one who can remove your head and bring it to me.”
The heavy door slid opened. Three men entered the room, all solid. One of them carried a large hammer.
“…No easy task when all you’ve got is a hammer and your bare hands. Remember, boys, the head has to be intact. No money if it’s all mashed up and gross.”
The three men spread themselves out in triangle formation, began inching forward, the one with the hammer at point. The steel door behind them slid shut with a boom. Three rapid clanks from the locks followed, sealing them in.
“…Aw hell, you know what? Just bring me that big melon of his; I don’t care how it looks.”
The man at point lunged forward.
54
Domino had been attacked with knives and blunt objects countless times. He’d learned early on—and more than a few scars later—that fancy wrist locks and the like were better left in movies, where they actually worked.
As far as Domino was concerned, the only thing that did work in these situations was to attack the attacker—and keep on attacking until they were out cold or dead.
The man with the hammer lunged. So did Domino. They collided, Domino’s movement jamming the man’s attack. Domino fired off three headbutts in rapid succession, the third and final dropping the man to the floor in a daze, the hammer falling from his grasp.
The second man dove for the fallen hammer. Domino saw it coming and kicked the hammer away. The man skidded on his stomach, hands outstretched to where the hammer had been. He looked up almost apologetically at Domino. Domino stomped on his face and put him to sleep.
The third man adopted a shaky boxing stance, began circling Domino. He was shouting in Russian to the dazed man on the floor who’d held the hammer. “Vstavay! Vstavay!”
Bad Games- The Complete Series Page 67
