Randomers

by Alexis Dogman

  With Chin seconds behind her, Yuna figures that in a cat and mouse chase, running straight will only put her on the loosing edge and so she decides to take random routes to confuse the killer hoping to buy herself some time before he puts a bullet through the back of her skull.

  She is just in time to reach the other staircase and turn the corner into the opened double doors and disappear from view when Chin bursts onto the fifth floor, seeing not even her shadow. She stands still and frozen behind the wall, her heart throbbing with fear against her chest. She listens to the lurker's conversation and actions and the moment he starts up towards the roof, she runs helter-skelter down the other staircase.

  Kaew has already pasted the device onto Chin's super-bike and also pasted new registration plates onto their scooter. The moment Yuna reaches, they hop onto their little white sheep of a scooter and speeds off.

  Chapter 35

  Malaysia: Wednesday, 19th November 5:14 a.m.

  "He's been at the same spot since 3:30 a.m. Do you think that's it?" Yuna asks Kaew, both women looking into the screen of the computer at a cybercafe. Both of them are disguised as men. Yuna is in a long sleeved checkered shirt, track bottoms and sneakers. She wears a wig of curly short hair under a blue cap. On her face is a heavy beard that spans from one sideburn to the other, linked up with a mustache to cover most of her face. A large squarish brown plastic glasses sits on the bridge of her high nose beneath straight, bushy eyebrows. Kaew is donning a large hooded jacket and a pair of blue track bottoms and sneakers. Her hair is covered under a fake Afro wig and a thick mustache lines above her upper lip. Her face is wrinkled and she looks much older than her actual age, all thanks to applying egg white onto intentionally stretched skin and letting the 'mask' dry out.

  The pair do look odd and attention grabbing but that doesn't matter as long as their faces don't get traced by electronic facial detection.

  "I tink yes," Kaew nods, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed into a seriously thinking manner.

  "Then let's go check it out," Yuna says and logs off before she gets up from the chair. Kaew follows suit and they pay up at the half asleep cashier before leaving through the poster covered glass door.

  "My idea good ah?" Kaew praises herself with a smug smile as they enter their black subcompact car. Behind them in the backseat are their personal belongings and back in the trunk are their bags of artillery. They are ready to look for their next hideout.

  "It's brilliant," Yuna nods in full agreement. Indeed this brainchild of Kaew's is a genius idea and now they know where the killer is. Kaew had stuck a phone with its GPS system turned on under the mudguard of the killer's super-bike and by using the phone's built-in anti-theft software, they can pin-point his location precisely. Their aim is to find the killer and know his every move and turn the game around. If it works, they will be the hunter and the killer will be the hunted. It's the only way to close in and win the game. But there are three short-comings to their little plan. Number one, if the killer has already discovered the device, they will be walking into their own death trap. Number two, if the killer does not have a permanent 'home' and is constantly on the move, the device will run out of battery before they can do anything. Number three, registered under Kaew's fake ID, when the killer discovers it, Kaew's cover will be blown and it will be one step easier for the killer to find them. Whatever the case the outcome might be, it is still a better idea than just hiding in the dark.

  Yuna starts the car and they drive towards a quiet little town just outside the city center. It is a little town with a cluster of three stories high shoplots as town center wrapped around by maybe three hundred single storey homes. It is a very old area surrounded by new and expensive developing projects. Most of lands around the area have already been cleared with construction of expensive condominiums and detached homes under way.

  Yuna gently turns the car into the street named Jalan Pineng - the phone's last location. They slow down the vehicle and under the illumination of the dim and sparse orangy street lights, they spot the yellow and black super-bike without any effort. It is parked in front of a closed stationery shop. The women instinctively crane their necks to gaze up from the windscreen towards the two floors above the stationery shop. After making sure that the coast is clear, Kaew takes a quick glance at Yuna who nods back at her and Kaew immediately swings the car door open. She springs out to the super-bike and reaches her twiggy hand under the mudguard. To her relief, her fingers find what she is looking for and she dashes back into the passenger seat. The killer hasn't noticed their little trick.

  Chapter 36

  Malaysia: Wednesday, 19th November 9:00am

  -BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP-

  Zach immediately springs up from bed cupping his right ear from the loud and sharp beep that is piercing his ear. The moment he is up and awake from the little sleep he had, the noise is gone. Zach is sure the noise is from the probe that has been inserted into his ear and right after he is awake, an instruction is read to him.

  Shower and clean yourself properly. Put on the attire we have readied for you in the closet and be ready for further instructions by 9:30 a.m. sharp. Be sure to look professional.

  The message ends.

  It has been a terrible and sleepless night. Like a zombie, Zach drags himself to the closet and pushes the heavy gray sliding door aside. Hanging on four different silver metal hangers are a pair of fitted gray suit, a pair of crisp white shirt and a navy blue silk neck tie. On the floor of the closet is a dark brown leather belt, a pair of matching shiny leather shoes and a brand new pair of black socks. When did they put these in? While he was sleeping, Zach supposes.

  Zach knows there is no other option but to obediently follow the instructions and like a beaten dog he drags himself into the attached bathroom. The horrible reflection staring back at him through the large wall mirror is that of a haggard and forlorn one. Zach's oily hair is twirled into a sticky mess. Dark eye rings circle his sunken and hollow eyes. His beard stubs are overgrown and his cheeks are sunken too. He must have lost a significant amount of weight. There is an electronic scale just a little further from where he stands and he trudges over to get himself weighed. One hundred and thirty five pounds. Zach is eight pounds lighter in just two days.

  Zach takes his shirt off, the same shirt he has been wearing since in Canada and throws it onto the granite floor tiles. For the first time he realizes how bad he smells.

  Zach walks into the glass shower cubicle and turns the warm water on. He lets the water rain over him as he places both palms onto the tiny squares of random black and white mosaic tiles that rise up the wall. As the warm water washes over him and the hot mist fills the whole space of the bathroom, Zach starts to cry. Like a bound and gagged prisoner buried in a coffin six feet under, he is a victim with no option of escape or help. The weight from this whole conspiracy is crushing down on him like a concrete slab. Zach knows it is only a matter of time before he looses his mind.

  Remembering his time limit, Zach forces himself to get a grip and to stay focused. He gives himself a quick and clean shower and emerges from the shower cubicle to pull the white fluffy towel from its metal hanger on the wall. Zach hastily dries his hair and wraps the towel around his waist. His body is toned and slightly muscular from his Taekwando workouts but not overdone like body builders.

  Wading his way through the mist, he walks over to the wash counter and wipes the mirror clear with his bare right palm. Zach then reaches for the shaving cream on the counter and applies a generous layer onto the both sides of his face, over his mustache stubs and chin. He picks up the disposable shaver provided by the hotel and gives his face a quick and clean shave, but careful enough not to cut himself.

  Zach then takes the hand towel folded on the counter-top and wipes his face clean. Combing his hair neatly backwards, he does look much smarter than before, charming even.

  Trudging out from the bathroom he realizes he is left with a mere five minutes to get ready
and he hastily puts the white shirt on buttoning it up to the collar. Flipping the collar upwards he skilfully knots the tie into a simple regular knot and immediately takes the pants off from its hanger. After slipping his pants on and securing it with the leather belt, Zach quickly grabs the suit off its hanger and slips it onto his shoulders. Zach then rushes to put his socks on, wears the leather shoes and laces it up quickly.

  Zach is completely transformed from a slob into a charming professional. The fitting suit, well polished shoes, crisp white shirt and expensive silk tie really makes him look well polished. No wonder they say the clothes make a man.

  Just as he pulls the last leather lace into a ribbon knot, his next set of instructions are read to him through the chip behind his ear.

  There is a package outside in the living room. Open it and you will find your next instructions.

  The monotonous voice of a woman ends her instructions.

  Zach goes into the living room of his suite and sees a yellow parcel ontop of the glass coffee table. He walks over, bends down and sweeps the A4 size parcel from the table and proceeds to tear open the envelope. Zach has since stopped wondering who these people are and just how they slip in and out without him noticing. He has started to become a willing slave of abuse without himself realizing it.

  Zach peaks into envelope and sees an expensive silver watch and a press personnel ID on a purple strap. He reaches for the watch and wears it around his left wrist. Zach then removes the ID and reads the details of his next task:

  REGISTERED ATTENDANT

  'Politics and Human Rights'

  Conference

  Venue:

  Horizon Conference Room, The Axis

  On the back of the ID is a barcode. It is more than obvious that Zach has to attend the conference under disguise. He looks at the watch on his wrist. It is exactly 9:30 a.m. Zach throws the strap over his neck and lets the ID hang down inside his buttoned suit before walking to the front door to wait for further instructions. Just as he expects, the same robotic voice reads his next instruction.

  Go to the men's room down by the lobby and enter the last cubicle. Someone will pass you a briefcase.

  Zach slides his key card off the wall jacket and slips it into his back pocket before exiting into the hallway to the elevator. Zach doesn't realise it but he has started taking to following orders like a trained professional. No more questioning and no more justifying if his actions are right or wrong. All he knows is that if he finishes all three tasks, his life will resume to its previous state and that is good enough. It is true that fear can rule one well.

  The elevator door opens and Zach exits from it, not caring even to analyze his surrounding. His mind is just fixated on going to the men's room and obtaining the briefcase. Zach marches his way to the men's room, which is situated, towards the left of the lobby with his heels clicking on the granite flooring.

  Zach pushes open the gray wooden door to the men's room and sees that on one end of the empty toilet are a row of six generously gapped urine bowls and on the other end to his right are four cubicles. Facing him is the mirror and six wash basins on the wash counter. He turns right immediately and takes to the last black cubicle. However, there is no briefcase. Zach pauses for a second before entering the cubicle and closing the door after himself. He stands calmly in a still position to wait for his briefcase to be delivered to him. If they say there is a briefcase there will be a briefcase, Zach tells himself to be patient.

  After approximately five long seconds of listening to Mozart's Allegro in C, Zach hears the door to the men's room opening. The hair behind his neck immediately stands and his heart starts to accelerate. Footsteps echo towards the cubicle and stops right before it. Through the half-foot gap beneath the cubicle door, Zach can see the tip of a pair of weathered black leather shoes. The owner to the shoes bends slightly and lowers a black leather briefcase onto the granite flooring. The mysterious messenger turns the bag to rest on its side and slides it through the gap, until the bag is fully inside the cubicle and then he turns around and hurries out of the men's room. The man is most probably a Malay and aged between forty to fifty years old, as through Zach's observation of the man's skin tone and the wrinkles on his hands. Zach lifts the bag and sees that there is a brass rotary lock on it and the dials are set to '000'. He tries to open the locks and see what is inside but the locks just will not budge.

  Go to the conference room in level two now - his next instruction is read to him.

  Zach unlocks the cubicle door and exits in a hurry to the elevators where a large number of people are already waiting. From their formal dress codes, Zach knows they are here to attend the conference. Going up to the public areas does not require scanning of the key card and once the elevators reach, Zach enters the one closest to him with the rest of the group.

  Second floor, the elevator announces and they all exit with Zach following a little farther from the back. Since he doesn't know which way the conference is, it is better for him to follow the group and to maintain anonymous by separating himself out from the big circle of attendants who are starting to chat up one another.

  "I heard that there was a gruesome murder here just yesterday night," one lady in a long floral dress says to another in a loud whisper.

  "Yes, the newspaper says a woman in a red dress killed the man and walked out with a bathrobe wrapped around her. Just like that. The security here is pathetic," the other lady in a white shirt and black slacks sneers.

  Zach's face turns pale for a moment. A woman wrapped in a bathrobe? He was with her in the same elevator! Are all these incidents related? Is she another victim like him? Why is there a murder right here just when they have moved him in? Is what he is going to do going to be yet another sequel to this gruesome killing spree that he and this woman has somehow partaken in? Zach doesn't see the woman as evil at all. Somehow, he is even glad that he is not alone. That there are others who might be forced into this scandalous plot as well and the mere thought of knowing that there are others have somehow sparked a tiny flame of hope in his heart. Maybe there is hope out of this. If he can get in touch with the other victims and expose this murderous scandal to the public, then people will believe that they are telling the truth and everything will go back to normal again. Forgetting the warning he has received back at the tattoo parlor, Zach's chip in his neck has just sent his rebellious thoughts back to the Hive, raising a red alert on Ada's computer.

  Zach starts looking around him to see if the woman he has seen in the elevator is anywhere present, but apparently she isn't. He follows the group towards the Horizon conference room and just halfway there he receives his next instructions.

  Enter the men's room and put the briefcase on the wash counter. Go into a cubicle and take a pee. After you finish the briefcase will be gone. Then proceed to the conference.

  Hearing the instructions, Zach immediately detours from the group and enters the men's room just on his left. He places the briefcase over the wash counter as told and takes the second cubicle. Zach unzips and tries to take a pee, but all his nervousness is just not allowing any of it, especially when he hears the door opening, shoes clicking in and leaving almost immediately. The briefcase must be gone, he wonders. Zach zips up and flushes the toilet before quickly coming out from his cubicle. He goes to the wash basin - the briefcase is gone. Zach races out to try and catch a glimpse if it was the bathrobe woman who had taken the briefcase. But the person is gone.

  He quickly paces back towards the entrance looking for the person who has taken the briefcase but no one out there has it. Zach wanders towards the security booth and starts to queue at the back of the short line.

  It is Zach's turn and he pulls his ID out from under his suit. The female security officer, a small framed Chinese lady politely turns the ID around and scans the barcode on its back.

  "Thank you Mr -," she pauses as she takes a look at his name on the laptop before her, "-Oliver. You may proceed to the common area on the l
eft or the right."

  Zach nods a polite acknowledgment and enters the conference room. As he enters, he realizes it is a large hall and not a room. And on the wide screen before the stage is a presentation slide with the title 'Advocacy of Human Rights'.

  Beneath the stage, the seating arrangement is divided into three sections, the left and right for the normal audience and the front mid-section for the VVIPs while the rest of the mid-section is reserved for the press members. Zach is starting to make his way to the right-section when the voice in his ear instructs again.

  Take the aisle seat to the last row on your left.

  Zach immediately takes the seat before anyone else does and starts looking around the room again. Just as he takes his seat, a group of hotel security officers usher in a Chinese man in a deep brown and yellow batik printed silk shirt and black pants. He seems to be around his sixties, lean, has a mustache and wears gold rimmed glasses over his stub nose. He waves to the crowd who starts clapping the moment they see him confidently marching in. Everyone seems to know who this important person is except for Zach. The man takes a seat at the frontest line amongst other VVIPs and it is then that Zach sees it, the Chinese man's subordinate is holding the exact same briefcase and he goes to take a seat behind the Chinese man. Zach can feel himself filled to the throat with nervousness and fear.