Gaming The System [Book One]

by Parker Mayhem

  She could hear the smile in his voice. He ate this shit up. Lived for it.

  "I need you to look into anyone named Hugo publicly connected to Ava Delgado."

  "Vague much? Could turn up dozens. Hundreds. I don't suppose you've got anything else to help me narrow this down?"

  “Nope.”

  "Figures. We wouldn't want this to be easy or anything.”

  "I'm working on it, but he could be some sort of contractor or supplier."

  “Got it."

  There was a brief pause and Piper envisioned him already logging away the information into his neuro display.

  "And what if nothing turns up? Publicly, I mean. You want me to go deep sea fishing?"

  Piper considered it. The deeper he looked the more heat he could put on her. It could jeopardize her film.

  It wasn't really even a question.

  "Yeah, anything you can get."

  "Done."

  Piper looked down at the Jackpad in her lap. Another inkling of curiosity nagging at the back of her brain. Again, a moment of silence passed and Archer finally broke it.

  "Pipe?"

  She was so distracted she hadn't realized he'd spoken. "Huh? Sorry..."

  "Anything else?"

  She stared at the paused frame and bit her lip.

  "Piper?"

  Hell, she was already eyeball deep in shit what was a little more?

  Fuel that fire!

  "Yeah, find me anything you can on Reapers."

  "Reapers?”

  "They're..." She started to explain but he cut her off.

  "I know what they are," Archer said. "You sure on this? These guys are like ghosts. This will be way outlaw."

  "You scared? I thought you loved a challenge, walking on the wild side, and all that?"

  "Don't patronize me. You know I love a thrill. I just want you to know what you're getting into."

  "Just do it. You only live once right?"

  "You got it," Archer said and the link disconnected.

  Ch 18 Lenox

  Two shitty couches and a scratched table that wobbled every time you even looked at it. That was the Reaper's break room. All the busted, sorry ass hand-me-downs from the officers. Probably retaliation for the second rate mods and upgrades they expected the officers to work with. Couldn't take it out on management so they sent the shit their way. No doubt the assholes loved that. It was more of a junkyard than an actual break room, and right then it felt more like home than her own house.

  Lenox sat a bottle of halfway decent whiskey on the table and looked at the red plastic party cup next to it. She grabbed the bottle and twisted off the cap. She paused halfway to the cup, the bottle tilted, ready to pour.

  Fuck it.

  Lenox held the bottle to her lips and drank. She reached out and, with one finger, slid the flimsy cup aside. Still holding the bottle, she turned around and hopped up on the table while taking another deep drink. The burn was almost as good as the girl the other night. Almost.

  The way she felt under her fingers. The girl's soft skin, so delicate, so fragile under her hands. The black painted fingernails scraping across her flesh. Lenox closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to get back into that moment.

  It felt so good. So amazing to forget everything and just live. Just be herself. Lenox exhaled slowly, the memory fading, taking the high with it. For a moment, she swore she could still smell the cheap perfume. Definitely beneath the girl, but somehow that made it more appealing. Gritty.

  Lenox tipped back the bottle again as the last of the scent faded too. God, she wanted that again. Needed it. She’d opened Pandora’s stupid box and it was consuming her.

  There would be others. There always were. Some random hook up that eventually led to more. That's what it was really about, at least for her. The chase. Not about how pretty they were, or how good. It was that thrill of the hunt. Problem was, none of them, could compare to her.

  Always her.

  She took another drink. She should go out, find herself another one, take her mind off the last. Feel good and ride the high. Maybe Brevek was right? She had a problem. No, that was ridiculous, Reapers didn't have problems. She had it under control.

  Lenox pulled one foot up on the table, took another drink, and sat the bottle next to her. She just needed to relax, get her head cleared. If she went out hunting now, she'd slip up again. For sure.

  Lenox dug in her pocket for a small tin and lighter. she opened it, inhaling deeply, she pulled out a tightly rolled joint and pressed it between her lips. The lighter sparked then lit and she held it to the paper.

  Sucking the last hiss of air between her teeth, she held her breath, before slowly exhaling. Her fingers knocked against the bottle, she'd almost forgotten it was there. She scooped it up and pounded down another gulp.

  She had this.

  She took another drag from the joint and looked around the room, the bottle still clutched in her hand. The dim light hummed and flickered overhead. Shithole didn't even begin to cover it. She deserved better. She should go out.

  Her hand gripped the edge of the table as she closed her eyes and forced herself to stay put. Keep it under control. Even as she thought it, she could feel herself backsliding, slipping deeper into temptation.

  Her foot bounced uncontrollably and she licked her lips. She needed another drink, had to try and take the edge off. Lenox opened her eyes and snatched up the bottle.

  As she chugged the spicy brown liquid, her eyes roamed to the door and she felt her skin tingle, her muscles tensing when she noticed she was being watched.

  That damn documentary girl, she couldn't recall her name, only that she had an annoying way of popping up at the worst times.

  She leaped off the table and flew to the door, slamming it in the girl's face. Lenox turned and hurled the bottle across the room. Shards of glass exploded against the wall and scattered across the filthy floor.

  You're fuckin’ slippin ‘. Losing it.

  She should've noticed her. It was her job to notice. To be aware, alert; the hunter, not the prey. What the fuck was wrong with her? She hadn't even known she was there!

  How could you not know?!

  Her chest tightened to the point where she couldn’t breathe. She ran her fingers through her hair and shut her eyes again. She was falling into the abyss and she wasn’t sure she could do anything to stop it. Again, images of the girl’s body beneath her surged through her memory. The temptation overwhelming.

  She balled her fists to stop her trembling hands and forced herself to breathe. Damn it, she could do this. She could get it under control.

  Ch 19 Piper LaRue

  Lucho surprised her. The inmate seemed to sing like a canary as soon as they pulled the camera out. More like word vomit, actually. Piper had to wrangle him in a few times and get him back on topic, but he never closed up. If anything, he grew more talkative. Of course, she'd have to review the footage, but she was positive they'd struck artistic gold.

  She placed a hand under her chin and watched as Lucho went on. She was mentally preparing her next set of questions for him when a quiet beep in her ear signaled an incoming link. A notification popped up in her neuro display. "Incoming Archer."

  Piper excused herself from the interview and took archers call, careful not to disrupt Lucho's monolog. She didn't want the goldmine drying up too soon.

  She stepped from the room and walked down the corridor cautiously checking for any eavesdroppers.

  "What ya got?" She asked trying to tamper down the excitement in her voice.

  "Well, hello to you too," Archer said, his voice playful.

  "You know I love you."

  "Uh, huh." He joked. "I've checked and cross referenced every known contractor and supplier MAX uses..."

  "Let me guess, no Hugo?"

  "No, Hugo."

  Piper nodded like he could see her. "So what now?" She glanced around the empty hallway.

  "Well, any more details you can think of w
ould help."

  "I can't really talk right now."

  "Understood."

  "Try any actual staff in any of the system. Maybe he's not a contractor? I know it's a long shot."

  "No, no. That's what I was hoping you'd say."

  Piper smiled. "Great minds..."

  "Great minds." Archer agreed. "On the other thing..." Archer's voice quickly shifted to all business. "There are only 8 known Reapers contracted to MAX Corp. Here's the weird thing, it doesn't say who's the contracting party, or any other details. It doesn't even give their names. I knew they'd be hard to track down, but nothing? Not one name, it's like they don't exist."

  "Lenox," Piper said impulsively.

  "Excuse me?"

  "The one I met. They call her Lenox."

  "Is that a first or last name?"

  Piper let the information sink in and tried to recall anything else. "I'm not sure."

  "Well, that's shit."

  "Sorry, I know that doesn't help."

  "No, no...that's good, it's something. I'll keep trying. Just let me know if you find out anything else."

  Piper agreed and cut the link. She took a moment to collect her thoughts then walked back into the interview room. Lucho was still talking.

  Ortiz leaned in next to her. "Everything okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm good, thanks."

  Ortiz nodded and straightened back against the wall.

  She let Lucho finish his rant then jumped in. "Tell me about the Reapers."

  Lucho seemed to tense in his seat. His fists subtly clenching and unclenching, people might not even have noticed, but she did.

  "You're afraid to talk about them?" Piper pressed.

  "Afraid? Nah. I ain't afraid of nobody." Lucho glanced around the room then looked down at his hands on the table. "More like cautious, you know? It's bad luck to bring 'em up."

  "Bad luck?"

  "Yeah, a fuckin’ curse you know? Like Bloody Mary, or Slenderman or somethin’. Start talkin’ Reapers and poof..." Lucho made an exploding motion with his hands. "They show up and shit goes south."

  "Shit goes south...what does that mean?" Piper asked.

  "Means people start gettin' hurt, or worse."

  "People end up dead?"

  Lucho nodded, holding his jaw high. "Yeah, something like that."

  "So let me ask you somethin'? If that's true, what's the difference between you and them?"

  "The difference between us and them?" Lucho repeated her question.

  He seemed to be seriously considering it.

  "I don't know. Hell, far as I can see, they're out there, we're in here. That's it. Both killas, feel me?" Lucho leaned forward. "I've seen some brutal ass shit go down. But here we are, so you tell me."

  Piper tried to decide how she could pry deeper. She wanted those “brutal ass” details. Wanted to know what “shit” had gone down but she could also sense she'd have to tread lightly on the subject.

  Piper inched closer, ready to delve deeper when Lucho's wristband started to blink.

  Damn it!

  Ortiz and Jenkins both jumped on Lucho so fast Piper barely had time to react. The officers hauled Lucho back toward the gate and shoved him out onto the block before she could get one word out. She hadn’t expected such quick reflexes from the officers.

  By the time Jenkins and Ortiz came back in the room, Rico and Jason had already packed up their equipment.

  Ortiz pulled out his keyring and sorted through the bunch as he stood by the door, waiting.

  Piper casually sauntered to his side. "Thanks again for setting this up. I really appreciate it."

  Ortiz barely looked at her. "I hope you're getting what you need?"

  "I am..." Piper shifted a little closer, wondering how to bring up what she was really curious about. Hell, she might as well just come right out with it. "Can I ask you something?"

  Ortiz pulled back a little, his shoulders and jaw tightening.

  "The Reaper...Lenox?"

  Ortiz looked more uncomfortable by the second. His stance growing more and more closed off as he shifted from foot to foot.

  "Yeah, what about her?" His words were clipped.

  "That a last name, first name?"

  Ortiz glanced at the others then looked her in the eyes.

  "All I know is, she goes by Lenox. That's it, no more, no less. And I don't ask questions. And if I were you...I wouldn't either."

  Ch 20 Piper LaRue

  Piper sat on the sagging motel bed, her Jackpad in her lap. Jason and Rico had gone to grab dinner once again with a promise to bring something back for her. God, let it be anything but pizza. She didn’t know how the two didn’t seem to tire of it. She could’ve gone and ensured a pizza-free meal, but it was the perfect opportunity to talk to Archer. Not that she didn’t trust her crew, it was just better she left them out of the loop, at least for a while. Until she had something more concrete. Plausible deniability, she told herself. She was doing them a solid.

  She pushed herself up off the bed, pulled back the dingy beige curtain, and peered outside.

  The hotel offered nothing in the way of amenities. And she was almost positive the place rented everything from hourly to monthly. But it definitely offered privacy, at least, outside the thin walled room.

  Piper crossed through the parking lot towards the hotel courtyard. The green space was beyond run down and overgrown. The grass swallowed everything around it and unruly trees hid most of the space from the casual viewer. It was perfect.

  Piper wrinkled her nose as she passed by the pool, drained some time ago, it still had a skim of swampy green-brown water covering the bottom. She moved a little farther in and found a bench a safe distance away from the shitty pool. Who knew what kind of toxic horrors waited in that water.

  Finding a rickety old picnic table, Piper carefully stepped on the bench and sat on the table top as she glanced around. She was pretty sure she was alone.

  She idly tapped her Jackpad in her palm as she linked Archer.

  “What up lady, bring me anything good?” Archer answered almost instantly.

  “If by good, you mean nothing, then yes.”

  “Bust, huh?”

  “Either no one knows anything or they won't talk.”

  “Well, that's about what I expected. Still, we need something, anything, to go off of. Some sort of jump off point.” Archer pressed.

  "I don't know what else or who else I can get."

  Piper glanced to the tablet the frame paused on Lenox. The Reaper clutched the bottle. The haunted look behind the Reaper’s eyes was almost hypnotic. Hadn't even known she was there. It struck her that, with how terrified everyone seemed to be of the Reapers, she might very well have the only picture of one. At least outside the CCTV of the prison. The idea sent a thrill through her body.

  “What about a pic? Think that'll help?” Piper asked hopefully.

  “I mean, I can give it a go, but something tells me it's not going to get any hits. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to make these guys shadows. But it's worth a shot. Who knows, we might get lucky.”

  “Well, it's all we've got.”

  "Look, it's not ideal. But it's not impossible. This just means we need to get creative. See it from a different angle,” Archer said.

  There was something in his voice. Excitement, maybe? Maybe, he was just as intrigued by the mysterious Reapers as she was?

  Piper held the Jackpad and stared at the Reaper's eyes like she could somehow will her to expose her secrets.

  "I mean, maybe you could do a little digging on your end? Where does she eat? Live? What does she do in her free time? Who does she hang out with?" Archer went on.

  “Did you miss the part about the gag order?”

  “Oh, like that’s ever stopped you before. Just be the sneaky, rebel bitch I know you are and dig me up something.”

  Piper listened as she stared at the Jackpad. There had to be something else she could give him. Then her eyes caught on the Reaper's tat
toos.

  "How much do you know about old school tattoos?" She asked.

  "Not a lot. Just some underground culture stuff. Lost art form, blah blah blah." Archer paused. "Wait, are you saying this Lenox character has some old school ink?"

  "That's exactly what I'm saying," Piper said as she zoomed in on the frame. Lenox's sleeve was covering part of the ink, but she had a full sleeve by the look of it. What she could see was pretty intricate and complex but she tried to describe the artwork as best she could. "Sorry, I'm sure this isn't very helpful."

  "No, no this is good. What else does she have?" Archer asked. “Does she have a tiger? I bet she has some badass tiger. Or a tramp stamp? God, please tell me she has a tramp stamp.”

  Piper zoomed closer focusing on Lenox's hand wrapped around the whiskey bottle. There was something on the Reaper's knuckles.

  "I got something." Piper tried to clean up the image a bit. It took some work but with two windows open, she enhanced the frame and could make out the words on both of Lenox's hands. "Kiss”, and “tell." Piper took a screen shot. “I’m sending a pic.”

  “Got it.”

  There was a moment of silence and Piper imagined the guy closely studying the snapshot.

  "This is good. I'll work my magic. There aren't a lot of shops that deal with old school ink. I'll put the feelers out see what we get,” Archer said. "Just get back at me if you get anything else. And send me the pic of her other tats too. Who knows maybe those will get a hit?”

  Piper agreed and cut the link.

  Ch 21 Anthony Ortiz

  The last week had been crazy. Ortiz hated when the routine was disrupted. There were already so many variables out of his control, adding more to the mix was always a bad idea. Hell, it was flat out stupidity.

  The interviewing, the babysitting, it was a pain in the ass. It was beneath him. He was more than just a tour guide. He thought he had made that clear to the documentary crew. Thought he was getting somewhere, with Piper at least, but the prying questions the day before left a gnawing, tangled knot in his stomach.