Game Master

by D H Sidebottom

  Caelan laughed, surprising me. “It could be a hundred-acre open field, Nessa, I ain’t gonna reach the end. We both know it.”

  “You will,” I declared with more determination than I felt. Different scenarios played out in my mind. If I could just get an hour to myself, without the Game Master knowing, then I could, hopefully, make this quest a whole lot easier for Caelan.

  “What’s your friend’s name?” I asked as I tried to keep the concern off my face.

  “Steve.”

  Grabbing Caelan’s hand, I gave it a squeeze as an idea started to form in my head. “Well, today is not the day that Steve will die. That I can promise you.”

  He quirked an eyebrow, disbelieving. Taking a deep breath, he snatched up his keys. “Let’s get this shit over and done with.”

  Caelan frowned at me when I slipped on my shoes and took my jacket off the hook by his front door. “The GM said I had to do this alone.”

  Nodding, I gave him a smile. “He said you had to walk alone, he didn’t say I couldn’t come with you. And besides, he said a car will be waiting for you at the other end. Someone has to drive your car back.”

  He looked sceptical but conceded and took my hand in his. “I need you to promise me that if I fail, you will play as hard as you can to save Jen and Debbie.”

  Scowling at him, I shook my head. “You’ll be right here beside me when their games are to be played, Caelan…”

  “Promise me, Nessa!” he asserted with a glower of his own. “I need you to promise me!”

  Swallowing back the lump that had formed with Caelan’s request, I gave him a simple nod. “I promise.” I knew why it was vital for him to hear my vow. I had to hope that he would fight for Carolyn and my mother if the time came that I couldn’t.

  His gaze on me softened, and for a long moment, we became lost in the security of each other. We were each other’s strength in the powerlessness of the game we played, one another’s crutch when we felt time crippling us. I wanted to stay locked in the refuge of his eyes forever, pretend that none of this was happening and I was merely in the moment with a lover. Except Caelan wasn’t my lover. He was my gaming partner. And, as usual, time was quickly moving on.

  Shaking himself off, Caelan gave me an encouraging nod, and for the fourth time we stepped back onto the game board.

  2:17

  Fear accelerated the beat of my heart as I watched Caelan stand at the junction of Connaughton Street and Bradley Road. Connaughton Street was a built-up avenue that not only accommodated the King and County and a general store but was occupied by rows of terraced houses that were home to the pub’s clientele. Basically, the whole street was owned by the London mafia, or more specifically, whoever was head of gangland crime. The road was busy at this time of day, the residents going about their daily lives. It was lunchtime, and most were leaving their homes to sample the dinnertime delights at the pub. All in all, the street was heaving with the most dangerous men in England. And Caelan had to walk straight through the middle of them all.

  Slipping from the car, I took a stealthy look around before I made my way to the alleyway that ran between Connaughton Street and Prairie Drive. I had to hope that the GM was focussed entirely on Caelan and the task he had set him. If I was wrong, this could all go horribly wrong.

  Day 4

  12:15

  Caelan

  My legs wouldn’t move. I was going to fail this game before it had even begun.

  I’d already had a few glances, confusion on the faces of each Face as I stood like a lemon on the corner of the most notorious street in London.

  Forcing myself to move, I blew out a long breath and put one foot forward. My legs felt like jelly, and I had to compel my feet to keep moving. Did I run? Was I even permitted to run? I was having enough bloody trouble walking never mind sprinting the length of the street.

  The iPad felt heavy in my hands, like a ticking bomb, which I supposed it was really.

  I couldn’t understand what the hell this bastard wanted from Nessa and I. Nothing he did made sense. And more to the point, would this game even supply a new set of numbers? Both Nessa and I knew that the numbers given with each game were significant. The GM was sick enough to provide us with clues, our failure to work it out amusing him no end.

  I could see the end of Connaughton Street, and I concentrated on a car that sat idle. A person was visible, his face turned towards where I stood. Although I couldn’t make out his features from the distance between us, it was clear that he was a man.

  The further I walked, the more people stopped whatever it was they were doing and slowly turned their attention on me. The air appeared to marble in front of me, fear distorting my vision as each man I strode past trained their eyes on me. I could almost taste the hatred from them, their abhorrence thickly coating my tongue. The sense of my own death loomed in the moments ahead, my fate in the hands of each person following my every move.

  The King and County loomed high and imposing as I moved past it. Silence had descended, shock and disbelief making each criminal part like the red sea in front of me. I felt like I was on display, a white lily boastful and taunting in a field of blood-red poppies.

  My footsteps stuttered when, from a group of men, Taylor Williamson, Frank Johns’ second, stepped out into plain view. Hatred and suspicion were clearly etched out in the hard lines of his face as he directed his stark stare to me. The quiet was deafening, the volume of my own frantic pulse in my ears making my brain ache.

  More men stepped from their houses, the actuality of a known police officer having the nerve to walk down a street that was the hub of criminality, perplexing even the more intelligent of the London mafia. It seemed that every single member of the underworld was on Connaughton Street just to witness the fool that paraded his madness for all to see.

  Anxiousness made my stomach curdle, but I forced myself to keep moving. I wanted to run, I needed to run, yet I knew that the heaviness of dread which weighed down my legs forbid me to. The end seemed unreachable, as though I was circumnavigating a roundabout and the exit I needed was always out of reach.

  Just as I reached the midway point, the high-pitched sound of a gunshot shattered the silence. A sudden and excruciating pain exploded in my right shoulder blade and the pain of it took me to my knees. The jolt from the hard concrete careered more pain through my arm, and I instinctively grabbed my shoulder. My vision swam, the sickening dizziness of pain making me look at the floor to ground myself. Blood coated my arm, a dark river of red seeping down my skin and onto the road as I struggled to fill my lungs.

  My eyes closed instinctively when two booted feet entered my line of sight, and the cold press of metal on my scalp made the beat of my heart pause.

  “I’m not sure who is more foolish.” Taylor Williamson’s distinctive growl resounded in the eerie quiet around us. “You for having the nerve to think you’ll survive this, or me for allowing you to have reached so fucking far?”

  “I just want to get to the end, that’s all.”

  His bark of laughter made me wince, and I grit my teeth together. “As I said, a fool,” Taylor stated. I completely agreed with him. The toe of his boot lightly pushed the underside of my chin, and he lifted my face until I was looking up at him. “Get up.”

  Nausea and wooziness from the pain in my shoulder made me stumble as I tried to push myself off the ground, but eventually I stood tall and found myself looking him in the eye. We were now surrounded by men, and several women, who were hungry for a close-up of my death. Sadness hung heavy in my heart as I thought about Steve, Jenny, and Debbie, and how my failure would also be their sentence to death.

  I found it odd though, how the GM thought I would have ever been able to complete this task. Surely, he’d have known I was a dead man, and I wouldn’t have a chance of winning this? This whole task didn’t make sense. Yes, he was a sick fuck, but there was an integrity about him, that if I didn’t have a hope of winning the game, it made him a cheat. An
d that was something he definitely wasn’t.

  Taylor pressed the muzzle of his gun to my temple. A shudder raced through me as resignation set in and I accepted my fate. I had to pray that Nessa would do everything in her power to save Jenny and Debbie, although a part of me knew she would. She was one of the toughest women I had met in the entirety of my life, and I’d met plenty of hard bitches in my time with the police. There was something about her, a niggle, I couldn’t put my finger on, though. We all had skeletons in the cupboard, but I had a feeling Nessa’s secrets were explosive.

  “Any last requests, pig?”

  Staring him straight in the eyes, I took a final breath and hoped with everything I had. “Just one.”

  He shrugged but nodded. “I may have underestimated you. You may be crazy, but you’re a fearless fuck, I’ll give you that.”

  My mouth was so dry that I wondered if I would even be able to voice my one requirement, and licking my lips, I prayed as I asked, “You take my body to the end of your street and hand me over to the man in the car sat waiting for me.”

  It was an odd request, yes, but I had to hope that if I made it to the car, dead or alive, the GM would take it as completion. Maybe Taylor was right, and I was a fool, but I had to still believe, dead or alive.

  Taylor frowned and keeping the gun trained on my forehead he turned to look down the street. The man was sat watching us, unconcerned, as he waited to see if his services would be required after all.

  Shaking his head, confounded, Taylor turned back to me and shrugged. “Not my problem if you bleed out all over his Merc.”

  It’s true what they say. Your life does flash before your eyes the instant before your death. Stages, milestones, memories, and every single face that had been significant to me flickered like a fast-paced slideshow of a photo album. As though treasuring its final beat, my heart slowed, and my soul held tight to my bones as it expectantly awaited its unwanted liberation.

  The sound of the gunshot made my body jerk in surprise. The surprise being I was still alive.

  A hushed silence descended, and the shock from each man surrounding me had me opening my eyes.

  Taylor’s gaze was focussed on something, or someone, behind me, and although his gun was still pressed against me, it didn’t stop me from turning my head to see just what everyone was staring at.

  My knees jerked when Nessa stood in the doorway to the King and County, a gun in her hand and her arm stretched to the sky.

  What-the-ever-living-fuck?

  “He’s mine! And under the shelter of me and my prominence!” she shouted, the conviction in her voice strong and loud. “If you don’t want a war, then you’ll allow him his voyage on, Taylor!”

  Frank Johns, who was stood right beside Nessa, merely nodded his head firmly.

  The feel of the cold steel against my skin disappeared. Turning back to Taylor, I found he had stepped to the side. He didn’t look pleased, but he did appear accepting.

  I had no clue as to what the hell had just happened. However, I didn’t waste time waiting to find out.

  Snatching up the iPad from where it had fallen to the floor, I forced my feet to move. I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to. I had to trust that Nessa would be okay. After all, the respect from her cousin obviously had her safety.

  The man in the car grew larger the closer I got, and the detail that he was wearing a full-head rubber mask became more disheartening.

  He said nothing when I fell into the back of his car. Nor did I.

  I keyed in the three numbers that were pinned to the back of his headrest into the iPad.

  143

  And then I passed out.

  Day 4

  15:18

  Nessa smiled at me when I opened my eyes. “How are you feeling?”

  Doing a mental check on myself, I pushed myself upright and winced at the pain in my shoulder. “Sore.”

  “Understandable.”

  Taking the pills that she held out to me with a glass of water, I swallowed them down and looked at my shoulder. A bandage covered the wound, but I was pleased to see there was no blood staining the cream linen. “Thank you.”

  Pouring us both a shot of whisky, Nessa shook her head as she passed me the glass. Jack Daniels seemed to be our staple diet over the last few days. “It’s what I’m trained to do, Caelan, luckily.” Her small laughter was broken off when the Game Master’s voice resonated from the iPad which sat on the coffee table.

  “I’m impressed, Miss Griffiths. I did wonder whether you would reveal your true self to Mr Fen.”

  Above the image of Steve, the timer had stopped, and the man in black walked into view and untied my best friend. My relief was vocal as I blew out a long breath. I had wondered if Nessa’s interference would be taken as cheating, but it was almost as if the GM had expected it. Which made him all the more calculating, and one step ahead of us yet again.

  “About that,” I said when I turned to look at Nessa. “You want to fill me in on why, or rather, how, you managed to save me from the fate I had resigned myself to?”

  “Not yet, unfortunately. And it isn’t because I want secrets between us. Just take it for what it was, and we forget about it.”

  Narrowing my eyes at her, I didn’t have any choice but to accept her need to be so clandestine. I couldn’t force the truth from her. Neither did I want to be fobbed off with a lie. So, for now, I had to grant her request for discretion. Maybe she was shamed by the fact that she shared the same blood as Frank Johns, after all, I wouldn’t want the fact that I was related to the mafia announced to the world either. Especially to a copper.

  “You’re okay though? They didn’t hurt you?”

  She shook her head and gave me a smile. “No.” There was a glimmer of a lie in her eyes, exposed in the way her pupils dilated ever so slightly, which concerned me. I was trained, skilled enough to detect untruths. It was instinctive in me, and I had learned over the years to trust my gut feeling; it was what made me a damn good officer. But, as before, if she didn’t want to enlighten me on exactly what happened today, then I couldn’t force her. I had a feeling Vanessa Griffiths didn’t do anything she didn’t want to – well, apart from play this insane game. Neither of us had a choice in that.

  “Can you pass me my laptop, please.”

  She nodded and plonked herself down beside me when I fired it up. I had to pray that the GM expected my next move. I wouldn’t class it as cheating, what I was about to do, and if my gut was right and he was leaving us clues, he had to envisage that I would do this.

  Nessa leaned towards me and watched when I logged into a veiled chatroom I used sporadically and made a connection with someone who had helped me out on a few occasions.

  Dicky -no surname- responded instantly, as I anticipated. My source barely left his house, let alone his bloody laptop.

  Marsh84 [Me]: I need a favour, mate

  Dicky27: Fire away

  Marsh84: I need a cryptographer. Low key

  Dicky27: Of course, and on it. Details delivered to the usual IP address

  “Marsh?” Nessa asked me with a frown when I disconnected and brought up my covert email programme.

  “Fen. Marshland,” I answered, casting her a glance. I was surprised to find a sad look on her face, as though my username had brought up a particular sorrowful memory.

  Her natural rosy cheeks then paled, and she held her hand to her mouth like she was trying to stop herself from vomiting. “You okay?”

  She blinked and slapped a fake smile on her face before giving me a nod. However, when her gaze found mine, there was something in the way she looked at me that resembled what I could only interpret as guilt.

  Rising from the sofa beside me, she coughed, clearing her throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a headache coming on. Think I need a nap.”

  Although I frowned in confusion, I nodded. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

  “Of course. As I said, just a headache.”

 
; She knew I didn’t believe her, and from the way her hands shook when I watched her walk away, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know whatever it was she was hiding from me. Nessa had played the game with grit so far, nothing had seemed to faze her. Except now. Now she showed fear. And that couldn’t be a good sign.

  Day 4

  15:46

  Nessa

  “Fuck!”

  I span around the room, my hands on my head and my eyes narrowing on every corner I could think of that would heal a concealed spying device. “You clever, clever man.” Why the hell I should be surprised was beyond me. “Noah Marsh!” I hissed into the nothing. “Why hadn’t I guessed it? You bastard!”

  The blood that ran through my system scorched my frozen veins and I slumped down onto the bed in defeat. My heart was pounding so furiously I was concerned I would go into shock.

  “Does Caelan know?” When only silence answered me, I screamed. “ANSWER ME, DAMN YOU!”

  I jumped in shock when a faint ringing tone ruptured the suppression of the quiet dread that had slithered around me.

  Using the sound for guidance, I scurried across the room and pulled open a drawer in one of the two chests that decorated the room. A cheap mobile phone lit up the dark corner, and moving away the few items of clothing, I snatched it up and answered. I knew who it was. He knew I would soon find out and he had already anticipated his next move by planting this phone before Caelan and I had even been quarantined here.

  “Out of both of you, I really thought it would be Mr Fen who would underestimate my intelligence, Nessa!”

  “Does he know?” I asked. Fuck playing his game! I needed answers, and quickly.

  “Do you think he knows?”

  I stopped short. Closing my eyes, I blew out a breath and lowered back onto the bed. My hair fell in front of my face when my head flopped in resignation. “No.”