Life is for the Living

by S. C. Stokes

  Holding her breath, she peered out to ensure no one had paid attention to her mad dash. The security guard was still locked in a heated argument with the cyclist who was apologizing profusely. No one else was around.

  Content she was unobserved, she focused on the museum wall before her. “Llwybr.”

  The concrete shimmered as magic pulsed through the normally inert stone. Soon, a seam appeared in the wall. It ran from the foundation straight up to a point just above Kasey’s head. Slowly, the seam parted, and the concrete peeled back.

  Kasey continued to focus on the wall before her. The concrete was far thicker than she had anticipated and a trickle of sweat ran down her brow as the spell drained her strength.

  Suddenly, a sliver of light glimmered through the gap. It was small, but it gave her hope. She gave the spell more energy. Soon, the hole was just large enough she could squeeze through. On the other side, she released her incantation. The concrete surged closed before resuming its solid form.

  She turned to take in her surroundings. She had entered into one of the Met’s many exhibition halls.

  The room was dark, the only light originating from a neon green exit sign above a doorway leading to the next room. The centerpiece of the gala was the fashion exhibit that was on display in the museum’s Central Exhibition Gallery. The rest of the museum appeared to have been closed off to keep the guests out of trouble.

  Kasey slid back into her heels and smoothed her dress, then took care to pick the leaves out of her hair. She couldn't help but feel self-conscious as she tended to her appearance. She had never been to the gala, most people on Earth hadn’t for that matter. The Met Gala was reserved for the famous, the wealthy, and the elite.

  Now that she was inside, she needed to find Arthur Ainsley without causing too much of a stir. The Chairman of the Arcane Council may have been able to duck her calls, but he couldn’t avoid her in the middle of an exhibition hall. She would see to that. Working her way toward the gala, she simply hoped that invitations were only checked at the door.

  She crossed the hall and turned into a corridor. Following the sound of the gala, she made her way through the darkened museum and emerged in a room full of European sculptures. She admired a particularly impressive cast of Rodin’s The Thinker.

  “Hey, you there. What are you doing in here? The Museum’s closed.”

  Kasey turned to find a security guard walking toward her. Racing to construct an alibi, Kasey pretended to be searching the hall intently.

  “I said, what are you doing here? The gala is in the central hall.”

  Kasey turned to face the guard. “I’m sorry, I’m looking for my husband. He’s disappeared and, well, there was a blonde waitress, that was giving him a little too much attention. I don’t mean to be suspicious but…”

  The guard gave a knowing nod. “Be that as it may, we can’t have you wandering about in the dark. Head back to the gala. I’ll keep an eye out for anyone dallying out here. He’s probably just in the bathroom, you know. Don’t be so quick to think the worst.”

  Kasey nodded sheepishly. “I guess you’re right, thanks.”

  The guard pointed down the hall. “Head on in. I have to finish my rounds.”

  Kasey’s heels clicked against the tiles as she strode for the central exhibit. The door leading to the central exhibit was open, and she made her way into the gala.

  She halted in the doorway. “Wow.”

  The central exhibition theater had been transformed into an exquisite winter wonderland. Elegant ice sculptures towered over the assembled elite. Rows of tables lined the outer edge while a raised runway ran down the center of the hall. Waiters bustled to and from the kitchen, ferrying trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne to the guests.

  Kasey stared in awe at an immense ice-castle that ran the length of one wall. Each brick was carefully hewn to shape and fitted together, forming the masterpiece. She was so enamored with the grandeur of the hall that she missed the patron standing before her. Tripping over their foot, Kasey stumbled forward.

  “Oh,” she cried as she fell forward into another guest. Kasey grabbed the only thing within reach that she could find, his outstretched arm.

  Latching hold of his arm with both of hers, she steadied herself.

  “I’m so sorry, these stupid heels.” She looked up, then her apologetic smile twisted into anger. “You!”

  It took a moment for John Ainsley to recognize her. The slinky silver dress was a far cry from her usual day at the OCME. “Kasey?”

  She let go of his arm and squared up to the man who had made her life a misery.

  “Come now, Kasey, surely you’re not going to hit me again in a room full of witnesses?”

  Kasey seethed, clenching and unclenching her fists as she considered doing exactly that. Over the course of the last week, she had thought of what she’d do to John if she came face-to-face with him again.

  His lawsuit was just the latest in a string of irritations that had been wearing on her nerves.

  “Come to think of it, Kasey, what are you doing here? You don’t seem to be with anyone and I know you didn’t get an invite on your own. So…”

  “So, what, John? Unless there was a restraining order in those papers you served me, it’s none of your damn business. Now get out of my way,” she replied as she gathered her things and jammed her phone back into her purse.

  “Oh, so you got those?” John asked, nodding. “I was wondering if you had. Our lawyers hadn’t heard anything yet, so I was curious.”

  “Well, John,” she replied, leaning close so she could not be heard. “It just so happens that I’ve been a little busy. Irritating as you are, you are far from my most pressing concern.”

  John laughed. “Oh, come now, Kasey. I find that difficult to believe. The lawsuit was just my little way of reminding you I’m still here. You might think of me as a pain in your ass, but at least you are thinking of me.”

  “I wouldn’t talk about my ass, John. It brings up all kinds of memories.”

  “I’ll bet…” John replied cockily.

  She fought the urge to choke him with his bow tie. Instead, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “If you haven’t heard yet, last night I killed Danilo Lelac with my bare hands. Just remember I could snap your little chicken neck before anyone here could raise a finger to save you.”

  “Perhaps, but back at the OCME, I thought you were a normal. One of them,” he almost hissed as he gestured to the room. “Now I know better. Father mentioned you were a witch. Using magic on a member of the magical community would be a matter tried in our courts. Presided over by the Arcane Council. I could kill you with a word. After our history, it would probably be classed as self-defense and thrown out before our lawyers even entered the room. I wouldn’t spend a night in jail.”

  “Then do it.” Kasey glanced at the assembled crowd. When Ainsley didn’t move, she laughed. “Yeah, that room full of witnesses, huh? I didn’t think so. Maybe next time.”

  She turned to leave, but John caught her hand. “We both know you’re here without an invite, Kasey. So, stay with me, as my guest, and you can enjoy the gala.”

  “Stay with you? Like a date? I’d rather die,” she answered.

  “Come now, Kasey, that’s harsh even for you.”

  “Harsh? John, is it really? You got me booted from the OCME, you put pressure on the NYPD, and now you are suing me for an injury resulting from an incident you yourself instigated. If we weren’t in a crowded room, I’d seriously consider finishing what I started at the OCME.”

  John looked down at the carpet.

  Kasey pressed on. “Besides what sort of message would I be sending if I let you blackmail me into a date?”

  She watched as John weighed her words carefully. She stared at her former colleague as she waited for his usual witty retort.

  “I get it, Kasey. I’ve been an ass,” John struggled to say.

  Kasey's face scrunched in confusion. The admission had caught
her flat-footed, while the understatement brought her blood to the boil.

  “An ass? You’ve almost ruined my life. It took me years to get to the OCME and you managed to screw everything up in an afternoon.”

  His shoulders sank. “I’m sorry, Kasey. I know an apology doesn’t mean much now, but I’ll make it all the same. I’ll have the suit dropped and call off the dogs. I’ll also speak with the OCME and get you your old job back if you want it.”

  Kasey was skeptical. “What’s the catch? You want me to be your date for the evening?”

  John shook his head. “No. You’re right, I’ve done enough already. There is no catch and no conditions. I should have done it weeks ago. I guess I just wanted your attention and went about it the wrong way. Enjoy the party, Kasey. Take care that you aren’t caught though. These folks are snobs even by my standards. They will press charges if you are caught.”

  He paused awkwardly, like he had more something to say.

  Kasey had never seen this side of him.

  Whatever he might have been thinking, he thought better of it. “Have a good night, Kasey.”

  He turned to walk away.

  She thought about John’s warning. If anyone stopped her, her story would fall apart like a wet paper bag. Besides, she’d come to the gala to get the lawsuit dropped and if John was true to his word, it would be. She was tired of the uncertainty though and her best opportunity for making sure it happened was right in front of her. She ground her teeth as she weighed her choices.

  I can’t believe I’m even considering this, but I've bought this dress. I may as well enjoy the gala.

  She silenced her inner critic.

  “Hey, John, wait up,” she called.

  He halted, looking back at her.

  “Care to show me around?”

  John smiled. It was different this time, not at all the cocky grin she’d become accustomed to.

  “Sure,” he exclaimed, holding out his arm for her to take.

  She eyed the arm and shook her head, “Baby steps John.”

  “Of course,” he said, motioning to the fashion on display. “Have you seen this year’s exhibit?”

  Kasey shook her head. “No, I haven’t had the chance yet.”

  “Oh, you must see it,” he said. “It’s like nothing a real person would ever actually wear in the snow. It’s fantastic.”

  “Lead the way,” she replied.

  “Sure. Oh, let me introduce you to a few people.” He pointed to a group of patrons near the exhibit. “Over there on the left is Senator Abrams. Thomas may be a Democrat, but more importantly, he’s one of ours.”

  “One of ours?” Kasey repeated.

  “A wizard,” John whispered. “Holding one of the highest offices in the land.” He waved at the gray-haired senator. “Hey, Thomas, I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Thomas excused himself from the group he was speaking to and sauntered toward John.

  A piercing scream split the room.

  Kasey turned to see a flood of movement at the door.

  Then the sound of a submachine gun split the air.

  Chapter Five

  One of the room’s ornate chandeliers came crashing to the floor. Glass scattered in every direction.

  There was a shrieking stampede as the gala’s guests tried to flee from the gunfire.

  A dozen assailants, all dressed identically in black from head to toe, streamed into the hall. Their only distinguishing feature were their masks, each bore a caricature of a famous historical figure.

  Kasey glanced at the rear entrance she had used. Three more assailants had taken position in front of it.

  They each carried the same weapon, Heckler and Koch MP5 submachine guns. She couldn’t help but feel bothered at the sensation of being killed by the likes of cartooned Abraham Lincoln and Thomas Jefferson.

  The patrons fled before the intruders only to find others blocking their path.

  As one, the surging mass of patrons retreated toward the immense ice sculpture that ran along the wall of the exhibit.

  A voice rang out through the hall. It carried over the noise like a ringleader at the circus. "Ladies and gentlemen of New York City. Welcome to this evening's main event. We are so glad that you could all join us, and we are even more thrilled that you have turned out in your finest attire."

  The voice was coming from the southern end of the hall, the main entrance.

  Kasey strove for a better view. One of the masked intruders advanced on the guests. His movements were confident and self-assured. He held his submachine gun at the ready. In spite of his short stature, his powerful voice commanded attention. Over his face he wore a caricature of the Mongol warlord Genghis Khan.

  "As you are no doubt beginning to wonder, this is a robbery," he announced. "You may call me the Khan. It is as good a name as any, I suppose."

  The Khan raised his gloved hand in a closed fist. Extending one finger, he waggled it before the room. "I must inform you that this evening, while we intend to rob you blind, we have no intention of you being harmed in the process.”

  Kasey stumbled as one of the gala guests backed into her. Steadying herself, she considered kicking off the silver stilettos but didn’t want to draw any undue attention.

  The Khan continued pointing to the entryway. “If you follow our instructions, you will all remain as healthy as the moment you walked through those doors." He paused before continuing. "Should you disobey our directions, we will have no choice but to make an example of you.

  “We're more than aware that this event is well attended by New York's finest, doubtless accompanied by your personal security. Before any of you are stupid enough to draw your weapons, you should consider the following.

  “One, you are outgunned. Whatever concealed weapons you are carrying, they are no match for an MP5.

  “Second, know that a number of our party have bought along a little surprise." The Khan opened his jacket as he spoke, revealing a vest covered in pouches and wires.

  Kasey's heart went into overdrive, it was beating so fast it threatened to leap out of her chest.

  "We're carrying enough C4 to turn everyone in this room into a fine red mist. It will likely also bring down the roof of this historic structure, and none of us want that. So, for the sake of this fine museum, and your lives, I must insist that none of you make any sudden or foolish moves," the Khan continued.

  “Our vests are rigged with dead men switches. Should anything happen to us, they will detonate, as will a number of other charges that we have been set around the museum.

  "We would much rather be considered thieves than murderers, so I must request that you follow our instructions to the letter."

  More than a dozen of the armed men stood in the exhibition hall, corralling the gala guests, forcing them away from the safety of the doors and the halls that lay beyond.

  Kasey noticed movement to her right: the pop superstar she had seen emerging from her limousine earlier. Her previous confidence was now gone, and a look of abject terror had replaced it. The star hid huddled behind her private security.

  The security guard looked at the Khan advancing. Glancing behind him at the wall, he must have realized they were running out of room. He reached inside his suit coat and drew a pistol.

  Before the security guard could raise the weapon, the Khan's submachine gun answered the threat.

  The shots hammered into the security guard’s chest. He dropped like a rock. The diva screamed and forced her way deeper into the safety of the crowd.

  As one, the guests backed away from the fallen guard fearful that in proximity to him they might be next to draw the wrath of the Khan.

  The Khan approached the guard who was lying on the floor. He cocked his head.

  Kasey looked closer. Wait, there is no blood.

  "Oh, you are wearing a vest. That was lucky for you. I promise the next one will bring some sense into that thick skull of yours. Draw a weapon again and I will kill you.”<
br />
  The Khan picked up the pistol off the ground and tucked it into the back of his pants "I think I'll keep this one just in case. I wouldn’t want anyone else getting any foolish ideas.”

  Addressing the crowd, the Khan continued. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm going to need you to form a line against the wall. Step behind the tables there.

  “Keep your hands where we can see them at all times. If we see any of you using a phone, be it a text a tweet or a phone call, rest assured we'll kill you.

  “If the police show up, there will be a shootout and spoiler alert, many of you will also die. So, it is in your best interest to cooperate so that we may leave, and you can resume enjoying the remainder of your evening.”

  The Khan addressed the cowering patrons. “Now I must insist that we relieve you of any jewelry or other items of value in your possession. In case your perception of value differs from mine, value includes: your wallets, watches, and jewelry. You can keep your expensive threads though. We aren’t barbarians.

  “Now if you could remove your personal effects and hand them to my companion Shakespeare. He will collect them, and we will be on our way. Does anyone have any questions?"

  No one was bold enough to say a word. The man that had been identified as Shakespeare advanced toward the group.

  "Get behind the tables and line up!" The Khan demanded.

  The gala patrons filed through the tables and began to form a long line running parallel with the wall.

  Shakespeare released his grip on his weapon. The MP5 dangled in front of his chest, suspended by a leather strap that ran over his shoulder. With his hands free, he pulled from his backpack a large black sack and made his way to the end of the line.

  “You heard the Khan, folks. Wallets, watches, and jewelry. Toss ‘em in the bag and no one gets hurt.”

  Kasey shuffled backward disturbing a patron. Turning, she found herself eye level with a man’s chest. Surprised, she looked up into the face of Arthur Ainsley.

  Arthur looked past Kasey as he addressed John. “Son, are you alright?”

  “As good as can be expected, given the circumstances,” John whispered back.