Survival Games

by J. E. Taylor

  “Turn it off!” Jessica broke his grip and bolted across the room.

  The door burst open and Marian stepped in, leveling a gun at Ty. She emptied four rounds into his chest and by some miracle, none of them hit his heart.

  * * * *

  Jessica reached the chair, grabbing the main power source with her left hand and reaching for Tom, the second her hand touched his shoulder, the restraints blew off him and she pushed him out of the chair. With her hand on the conductors, the flow of energy burned through her palm, and she absorbed it, like a battery renewing itself.

  Marian swung the gun in her direction.

  “Don’t!” Ty yelled and fell to his knees.

  Another round discharged, the force of the bullet, knocking Jessica back into the wall. The bullet tore clean through and the path behind it immediately healed leaving only a trace of a scar.

  The sudden onslaught of pain sharpened her focus, her gaze fell to Ty, his blue eyes locked on her, relief flooding into his eyes, and he broke the stare, moving his gaze back to Marian and the gun swinging back in his direction.

  She was going to plant a bullet in his brain and Jessica shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she whispered and lifted her burnt hand to her head as if it were a gun.

  Marian’s eyes widened in horror as her hand mimicked the motion of Jessica, the gun pressed to her temple and she squeezed the trigger.

  Ty’s gape transitioned from Marian’s falling body to Jessica, the sound of the gun still ringing in his ears.

  Jessica spread her arms wide, hands in fists, and tilted her head back, uttering a guttural cry that echoed on the concrete. The cry of a warrior. Her hands shot open, and he felt the power ripple through the room leaving a slight ozone odor. The door blew off its hinges, and not just their door. Every door in the complex lay in a heap of twisted metal across the hall from where it originated.

  Ty fell forward whispering, “Angel.” And the world went black.

  The echo of metal on concrete was dimmed by the sound of the door slamming in the halls of her mind. It rattled on its fame and fell silent. Jessica lowered her arms and her gaze fell from the ceiling to Ty. Her breath hitched and she stumbled toward his still form.

  “Ty,” she cried and turned him over. “Oh God, Ty!” She scanned him, her eyes lingering on the bloody bullet holes and then she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, wishing the wounds away. Nothing happened, no overwhelming magical sparks, no white light, nothing and a sob escaped her. She held his slack face between her hands, her eyes filling up with tears blurring her vision. “Oh God, I can’t fix you!”

  She turned to Tom. “I can’t fix him.”

  Tom tilted his head and scrunched his eyebrows together and then looked around the room still dazed.

  Ty’s eyes fluttered open. “Jess,” he whispered, coughing up blood.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t, I don’t, I can’t fix you,” she stammered through the tears. “I don’t have it anymore.”

  Ty raised his hand, gently cupping her cheek and wiping the tears with his thumb. “It’s okay, Jess.” Before she could say anything, he swiveled his gaze to Tom. “Get her out of here,” he commanded in a voice too strong for his condition. A coughing fit followed, racking his body and spraying drops of blood everywhere.

  Tom stared at him, his eyebrows slowly rising and the silent question of “How” covered his face.

  Ty’s vision blurred and he blinked, bringing his focus back to Jessica. “Get out of here,” he started and coughed again. “The eye. There is a bag under the control board, has money and keys to my car. There are clothes in the closet. Your sizes.” He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting to keep awake. “Go,” he whispered, looking at her for the last time. “Please just go.”

  Jessica nodded, kissing his palm before he let it drop to the ground and his eyes closed. She leaned forward pressing her lips to his. She didn’t know if he would hear her or not, but she needed him to know, she needed to say the words before it was too late. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear.

  She turned toward the table, getting to her feet and crossing to the array of weapons. The eye and the severed finger were resting on a towel and she gathered the edges, folding them together over the ghastly items that were the key to their freedom. She reached down and took Tom’s hand, helping him up and out of the room.

  She paused at the door looking back at the carnage. Ty’s chest still rose and fell as the puddle of blood surrounding him slowly expanded.

  Then she turned and led Tom down the hall, his hand still clasped in hers as they skirted around the twisted doors and quickly looked in each open entry looking for the control room. At the end of the hall, right after the fully equipped kitchen stood a room with several monitors and an entire bank of controls. All the cameras were live, including the one in the room they just emerged from. Setting the towel on the counter, she reached out and flipped each master switch and one by one, the feeds went black. She hesitated at the last monitor staring at the wide shot, staring at Ty.

  Tom reached past her and shut the camera off.

  She met his gaze and nodded, shifting hers to the considerable closet and the neat rows of clothing marked by post it notes with size and prisoner name. She grabbed a pair of jeans under the sticky that indicated her wardrobe and slid them on. The sticky with Ty’s name caught her attention and a black dress shirt hung among the collection, clean and pressed. Instead of grabbing a shirt under her label, she grabbed the dress shirt and put it on, buttoning it nimbly and rolling up the sleeves before turning to Tom.

  Tom had slipped into a pair of jeans and was just finished buttoning up his shirt. His gaze slid over her and jumped to the section that she took the shirt from. He inhaled and met her stare. He turned away and grabbed a couple pairs of pants, underwear and shirts from both their sections, placing them on the chair.

  “He said something about a duffel bag. I figure we’re gonna want more clothes than what’s on our back,” he said to her raised eyebrow.

  She nodded and grabbed one more item. A bra and then opened the cabinet under the control board. As promised, there was a duffle bag and she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, stifling a sob when she looked at what was inside.

  Tom peeked over her shoulder. It was full of cash and a pair of car keys sat on top of the crisp hundred dollar bills. “Jesus.”

  Jessica recovered from the initial shock and grabbed the keys sweeping the clothing into the bag and handing it to Tom. Gingerly, she picked up the towel and led the way out of the control room. At the elevator, she fished the eyeball out of the towel, letting the rest fall to the floor. She punched the button and held the eye to the scan bed, holding her breath, praying it would work.

  The door opened with the same whoosh she remembered and she dropped the eyeball, stepping inside quickly like the elevator would change its mind. A sob escaped at the sight of the key in the slot, she turned it pressing the only other button, and the doors slid closed, the elevator ascending.

  Jessica’s heart beat so hard she shook, the last time she had tried to use this elevator so very vivid in her mind and the idea of what lay beyond, the unknowns, what else would they have to fight through to get free, froze her breath in her lungs. There was no ding, the doors just silently whisked open. In a closet no less.

  Presented with a choice of two doors, they looked at each door and then at each other. Jessica made the decision, reaching for the closer of the two doors and they stepped into a private garage. She looked at the keys she held and the limited choice of cars. A silver Nissan 350Z Roadster, a Black BMW and a beat up Ford Taurus. She pointed the remote at the cars and pressed the unlock button. The Nissan’s lights flashed and the locks released.

  She exchanged glances with Tom and then they bolted to the car, she taking the driver’s seat and he the passenger seat after tossing the duffel bag in the space behind them. On the visor was a door opener and she pushed the large red button,
bursting into a fit of hysterical laughter as the garage door whirled to life, slowly rolling up. Darkness greeted them and Jessica sped out into the open night, pressing the button once again before they drove out of range.

  Tears blurred her vision as the bright headlights carved a path down the access road. She didn’t dare speak until they hit the crossroad. “Which way?”

  Tom inhaled and after studying the landscape, he pointed to the left. “Let’s go that way.”

  The massive warehouse receded in the rearview mirror and she began to cry. Tears for Ty, tears for Mike, tears for Tom’s wife and tears because the taste of freedom was as sweet as she dreamed.

  Tom reached over and took her hand as she drove. “Ty was right, you were my miracle.”

  Jessica shook her head slowly as she cried. “No, Tom, Ty was the miracle. He let us go.”

  Chapter 62

  Jessica reached for the doorbell, hesitated and pulled her hand away, suddenly filled with trepidation. “I can’t,” she whispered and looked into his impossibly blue eyes.

  “Yes you can,” he said and turned her back toward the door. “This is what kept you alive all that time.”

  “I know, I know, it still doesn’t make it any easier,” she said. She rang the doorbell and held her breath. Running feet and muffled voices approached the door, voices she longed to hear for the past nine months.

  The door flew open and a young teenage girl gasped at the couple standing on the doorstep, both highly recognizable, but for very different reasons.

  A boy flew down the stairs exclaiming the words the girl couldn’t find a voice to utter. “Mommy!” he cried and flew past the girl into Jessica’s arms.

  Jessica leaned over and wrapped her thin arms around Eric. “Hi, angel boy,” she whispered in his ear. “Hi, Em,” she said, looking up at her daughter through tear filled eyes.

  Emily looked up at the man standing behind her mother and the remaining color drained from her face. Emily started to shake and sat down on the stairs in stunned silence.

  “Who’s there?” Daniel called from the back of the house.

  “Mommy!” Eric announced with excitement. “And Clark!” he yelled and looked up at the man with his mother for the first time. “Daddy, it’s Mommy and Clark!”

  “Mom,” Emily whispered, finally finding her voice, tears dripping down her cheeks in thin rivers.

  Daniel Connor walked around the corner and stopped in his tracks. “Holy shit,” he uttered, his eyes bouncing between Jessica and Tom in astonishment before landing on her and gawking. “But you died,” he whispered as if he was talking to a ghost.

  Jessica stood up “Danny.” She squeezed the word out of her constricted throat; the relief washing through her was tempered by Tom’s presence. She stepped into her house for the first time in months throwing her arms around her husband’s neck.

  “You died,” he whispered again into her dark hair and then he wrapped his arms around her. “Oh my God, I buried you.” His voice shook, laced with long buried emotions.

  “I told you she’d be back!” Eric danced around his mother and father. “I told you,” he said triumphantly.

  Jessica smiled down at her son and then up at the man in the doorway. She pulled away from Daniel’s grasp. “Please come in,” she said to him. “Danny, this is Tom, he’s the reason I’m still alive.”

  “It’s actually the other way around,” Tom said and stepped across the threshold.

  Eric tugged at Jessica’s leg. “Where’s Ty?” he asked and both Jessica and Tom’s head swiveled in his direction. “He made the bad man disappear,” Eric said. “Where is he?”

  Jessica and Tom exchanged a look. The last time they saw Ty, he was lying on the floor with four bullet holes in his chest. That was days ago.

  “Honey, who’s there?” a female voice called from the back of the house.

  Jessica looked at Daniel. “Who’s that?” she asked as a very pretty blonde walked around the corner.

  Daniel answered both questions with two words. “My wife.” He looked from one to another.

  Jessica’s eyebrows shot up and she went to say something. No words came and she clamped her mouth shut glancing at Tom. His face registered a measure of relief and on the same level, she felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest only to be dropped on her foot. “You certainly didn’t waste any time.” She looked between Daniel and the woman standing next to him, voicing the shock she felt.

  “How?” Daniel asked. “How are you alive? How are you here?” he asked. Uncertainty crossed the woman’s face and she instinctively put her arm around Daniel.

  “We were kidnapped, our deaths’ staged.” Jessica moved closer to Tom.

  “Why?”

  “You don’t want to know,” Jessica said and peeled off her tinted glasses.

  Daniel recoiled. “You’re not Jessica. Her eyes were brown.”

  Jessica’s eyes were now an interesting conglomeration of blues, greens and grays, surrounded by an outline of brown that matched her original color.

  “Opening the door changed her eyes Dad, just like mine,” Eric said from in front of her.

  Daniel looked at Jessica and then down at Eric and the connection between the two slammed into him. Eric had been with her in some way through this entire ordeal. “I need to sit down,” he said and headed to the back of the house. Everyone followed.

  “You mean I’m married to two women?” he asked after a few minutes of awkward silence, trying to push the connection and what that really meant far out of his mind.

  Eric and Emily sat on Jessica’s lap and Tom took the spot on the couch next to her.

  “Looks that way,” Tom said looking from Jessica to LeAnn and back.

  They all looked at him.

  “Sorry,” he apologized holding his hands up.

  Jessica squeezed her children, looked up at Tom and then over at Daniel and LeAnn. “Danny, what do we do now?”

  There was sadness in Daniel’s eyes as he spoke. “I let you go, Jess. As much as I loved you, I let you go.” He drew a shaky breath. “I know this marriage...” He looked at his hand clasped in LeAnn’s and held it up to bring his point home. “This marriage is where I belong. I’m in love with LeAnn. So I’m not really sure what the next step is here,” he answered truthfully.

  Jessica nodded and fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she knew he was right. She knew this was not where she was meant to be either. She loved Daniel, but it wasn’t the same as what she experienced with Ty and it wasn’t the safe harbor that Tom provided and yet the rejection hurt. She took Tom’s hand and attempted to smile. “I can’t be away from the kids right now. I need them.”

  Tom broke her grasp and reached over her shoulder, pulling her close. He stared dumbfounded at Daniel. “You have got to be kidding?”

  Daniel looked at him. “What?”

  “If Jessica was my wife and she came back from the dead, it wouldn’t matter who I was with. I would thank the heavens above…” he trailed off, leveling a sharp stare in Daniel’s direction.

  “I thought she died,” Daniel said. “I moved on.”

  “Well, then you couldn’t have loved her that much, now could you?” Tom challenged.

  “Stop. Please.” She looked over at Daniel. “After everything I’ve been through, I can’t come back anyway,” she said, freeing him of his obligations. “You would never begin to fathom the hell we went through.” She paused and closed her eyes for a moment. “Tom understands, he lived through it too, saw what I saw and protected me when it counted.” She sighed and looked over at the television. It was on but muted and she froze, the blood draining from her face, leaving her dizzy.

  Tom followed her gaze and his jaw dropped.

  “Turn up the sound,” Jessica whispered. The news story unfolded on screen.

  “Holy shit,” Tom whispered.

  Eric looked up at him and laughed. “Clark said a bad word.” But no one i
n the room heard him.

  “Eric, Emily, leave the room now.” It wasn’t a request, it was a command delivered in a sharp stern tone—one neither of them questioned. They left the room, glancing back only once in her direction, but she pointed and they disappeared down the hallway.

  Daniel gasped, recognizing Jessica in the video. He turned up the sound.

  “Aris Technologies CEO Frank Aris ran an underground pornography and S and M ring with sister Marian Aris and stepbrother Ty Aris over several years, which included shooting videos of various sex acts, mutilation and murder. We believe their last two victims escaped after the Aris’s self-destructed. The following video is disturbing and not suitable for children. If anyone has any information regarding the whereabouts of the witnesses, please contact the following number.”

  Jessica gasped as the view of the room came on the television and the last few minutes of their horrific ordeal rolled across the screen.

  When the screen changed back to the news anchors, Jessica and Tom were both shaking and Daniel was deathly pale.

  “You were shot,” Daniel sent his wide-eyed gaze in her direction.

  Jessica laughed. “That was the least of what was done to me, Daniel.” And she moved her shirt so he could see the scar. “But this is the only physical scar I have.”

  The screen filled with a man who had an uncanny resemblance to Ty, with one exception; his face was perfect, unblemished, scar free. He apologized to the families of those victimized and Jessica watched him closely. He played a good part, just the right tremor of indignation and pain in his voice punctuated by the tear-glossed eyes. The caption said his name was Christopher Aris, but she knew better.

  Her son’s question in the foyer reared in her mind. She hadn’t fixed Ty, but he certainly had the power to do such a miraculous thing. The man droned on and her attention snapped to his words.

  “Never in a million years could I have fathomed this was going on, and I deeply regret the pain it has caused so many families. I will do my best to make this right for those who have lost so much.” He paused, “Again I am truly sorry.”