by David Clark
The beating continued for almost a full ten minutes. To the SanSquad sitting there hooded, listening to their friend getting beat to a pulp, it seemed like an eternity. When it ended, there was a moment of silence, followed by one last loud open-handed slap, this one obviously from Marjorie, “That was for my cousin.”
She clapped and heavy footsteps approached the group once again. This time the handlers walked past and took up positions behind them. Another clap, and the handlers pulled their hoods off, allowing each to see the spectacle in the center of the room. He sat slumped, lifeless, in the chair. Blood dripping from his head into a large pool on the floor beneath him. There wasn’t an inch of flesh on his face not stained crimson by either blood or repeated impacts.
“As I agreed, if Christopher showed up, you are free to go. I, unlike him, am a woman of my word.”
Isaac appeared from a side door and walked over to Christopher’s battered body. He took off his sunglasses to inspect the work Marjorie’s team performed. He asked, “Is he ready?”
“Yes, he is all yours,” Marjorie said with a quick swipe of her hand.
“Let’s go, old friend. You have a lot to repay,” said Isaac, as he wheeled Christopher to the back of the room and out. The path took Christopher’s body by the SanSquad, giving each of them a good look at the lifeless eyes, buried in a sea of red.
The handlers replaced the hoods over the group. Robert struggled a little against his handler, but a quick elbow to the side of the neck brought him in line. Once covered, the handlers wheeled them out through the same back door.
The four were lined up at the same double doors they’d made their grand escape through earlier. One by one they felt a quick pinch in the neck and drifted into unconsciousness. The handlers loaded their limp bodies into the back of a van. like sacks of luggage.
Robert was the first to wake. He was lying on a bed next to Amy, who was stretched out beside him. A fog interfered with his thoughts, making him think they were back in Paris and this had all been a bad dream. Seeing Jill sit up, confused, in a bed next to their own, brought everything back into focus.
“Where the hell are we?” she asked.
Robert looked around at their surroundings. It had a very familiar appearance.
“Looks like a hotel room.” He then realized he was no longer in the boxer shorts he had spent the last few days wearing, but was now wearing sweatpants and a dark hoodie and dark sneakers. He looked at his sleeping bride, who wore a similar outfit, too. They all were.
He threw his feet out of bed and onto the ground. The motion made his head woozy as the poison that put them out still lingered. Letting a few minutes pass to steady himself, he made it to his feet and walked around the room. Carefully, he checked the bathroom and the kitchenette, stocked with food, for any unknown visitors. The four of them were alone. He then walked toward a window and opened the curtain to see outside. His eyes protested against the first exposure to sunlight in several days, but even through the discomfort, seeing the outside world was a welcome relief. From the window he saw a sprawling shopping district, the coastline, and an airport.
Doug was starting to wake up and Jill was up and moving around at this point. She had retrieved a few bottles of water from the refrigerator. She handed one to Doug and then sat next to Amy, who was trying to wake up herself. Jill gave her a few quick sips of water to help clear the cobwebs.
Robert looked down at the table that sat in front of the window. There was a folder sitting there, in clear view. He flipped it open. There were four tickets, with each of their names on them, for a flight from Macau International Airport to Los Angeles, for 4:15 pm local time. The clock on the nightstand that sat in between the beds said it was 8:31 am. Under the tickets, there was a stack of cash. It had to be their take. Even in these situations, they were still paid.
Robert picked up the tickets and said, “Well, we aren’t in Kansas anymore and it seems they want us to get out of here, too.”
Doug joined Robert at the table and looked at the tickets. “Macau? Wait. Where the hell is Christopher?”
Jill said, “They took him. Don’t you remember?”
“Shit. That’s right.” Then Doug’s expression changed. “Hold on a minute.” He walked to the door and opened it a few inches, then closed it without a sound.
“Just as I thought. We have a tail.”
“A what?”
“There is a guy right outside our room. He is probably there to make sure we get on that flight.”
Robert said, “Sounds like a good idea to me.”
Doug argued, “We can’t leave Christopher.”
No one in the group said anything. They all looked at each other with the same blank expression on their faces. Inside, each of them wanted to head back to the safety of their home, but deep inside they knew Doug was right. They couldn’t leave Christopher there.
Jill was the first to confirm what they were all thinking, “He is right, you know. Christopher risked everything to save us. I know I questioned him earlier, but he came. He risked his life. You all saw the beating he took.”
Robert looked at Amy and then pulled her ticket out of the stack. “I want to send Amy home. She doesn’t need to do this.” Doug nodded.
“Wait a minute. Hell, no. Christopher is my friend, too. I am not going anywhere. Especially unless you all are coming with me.”
Jill said, “Then it’s settled. Now what?”
“I have some buddies that can help us, but there is something we need to do first.”
“What is that?”, asked Robert.
“Jill, do you remember that time you made yourself vomit on the show?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I need a distraction.” Doug walked back to the kitchenette. “What was it? A bunch of carbonated soda?”
“Yep. I downed them fast.”
Doug searched through the refrigerator and emerged with bottles of sugary carbonated drink. “Get drinking, girl.”
Twenty minutes later, the door of the room flung open and Jill emerged vomiting out on the stoop in front of their third-floor room. The tail, an Asian man in a dark suit standing four doors down by the stairs looked surprised. Doug ran after Jill, holding her hair and trying to help her.
“Hey you. Do you understand English?”, Doug yelled in his direction.
The tail said, “Yes.”
“We need help. She is very sick and dying. Can you get help?”
The man stood there, just looking at the scene.
“Come on, buddy. We need some help,” Doug yelled again.
This time the man walked toward them. Doug whispered to Jill, “Keep it up for just another few seconds. He is coming this way.”
The man stopped beside Jill. “Are you going to get help?” Doug asked again.
He didn’t move or say anything. Doug then said, “Fine. You come over here and hold her while I go call for help.” Jill let out another stomach-turning gag and the man walked around her to take over for Doug. When he was directly behind her, Doug delivered a mule kick to his midsection, sending him flying back into the room. Robert wrapped him in a sheet around his body and Amy pulled a pillowcase tightly over his head.
Doug told Jill, “Okay, that is enough puke queen.” She got up off the concrete walkway and waked inside, followed by Doug, who shut the door.
Game Master
Follow the SanSquad in their next adventure in Part 3, Game Master: Reboot.
With one of their own in danger, Robert and Doug reached out to past players of the game, with very special skills, to help mount a rescue. During their efforts, Robert learned more about the origin of the game, his friend’s past, those that control it, and himself. He found himself immersed in a Cold War battle to save their friend. Their adversary, an ex-KGB super spy, now turned arms dealer, and considered one of the most dangerous men walking the planet.
Will the skills Robert learned playing the game help him in this real-world raid? There are no trick
CGI or trap doors here. The threats are all real.
Ripped straight for today's news headlines, book two of this technothriller and espionage-based series thrust the read through the veil of mystery and into the real horrors that exist in the underground world of the Dark Web. If you don't believe this world exists, you need to wake up.
What Did You Think of Game Master: Game On?
First of all, thank you for purchasing Game Master: Game On. I know you could have picked any number of books to read, but you picked this book and for that I am extremely grateful.
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About the Author
David Clark is an author of multiple self-published thriller novellas and horror anthologies (amazon genre top 100) and can be found in 3 published horror anthologies. His writing focuses on the thriller and suspense genre with shades toward horror and science fiction. His writing style takes a story based on reality, develops characters the reader can connect with and pull for, and then sends the reader on a roller-coaster journey the best fortune teller could not predict. He feels his job is done if the reader either gasps, makes a verbal reaction out loud, throws the book across the room, or hopefully all three.
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Other Works
If you enjoyed this book, be sure to check out his other published shorts and novels. Feedback and reviews are always welcome.
Novels
The Ghosts of Miller’s Crossing – A modern day paranormal thriller in the tradition of such great novels as “The Shining” and “The Exorcist” - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07RQH9XNB
Anthologies and Short Stories
Dark Water Syndicates – Postcards from the Void - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07G8YBY9Q
Hellbound Books’ – The Big Book of Bootleg Horror 4 - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07C2N9ZL
Hellbound Books’ -Shopping List 2 - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0776LFHJM
Highway 666 And Other Tales to Speed your Descent into the Abyss -https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07F64HP4X
The Splurge – A collection of Horror Inspired Holiday Parody -https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07JMSPMRY