Panic Button - A Psychological Thriller

by Frazer Lee

  Jo felt warm, and a little giddy from the alcohol. She pictured Sophie, playing with her Nan in the living room at home, wondering if she’d get her to bed on time. There was no chance of that. Jo chuckled to herself.

  Ding ding. The chime sounded again and the monitor screens flickered to life. The Alligator animation appeared, his rich baritone voice making the speakers tremble.

  “Are we ready to play?”

  The winners raised their glasses triumphantly, cheering. As the alcohol flowed, so too did the party spirit. The screen display changed and a ‘Terms and Conditions’ button appeared.

  “Tap on screen to read the Terms and Conditions,” the Alligator instructed.

  Without even looking at the Terms, Dave tapped the ‘Accept’ button repeatedly.

  “We all accept the Terms and Conditions!” he said, speaking for all of them.

  He looked at their amused faces.

  “What? No-one reads that crap do they? Load of legal bollocks and disclaimers... Well, do they?”

  He looked to Max for support. Max shrugged in agreement.

  “You have not read the Terms and Conditions - do you wish to continue anyway?”

  The dry officiousness of the Alligator’s voice was rather comical, especially after the champagne. Gwen laughed as Max tapped the ‘Accept’ button, then she followed suit.

  “Please note, the rules stipulate that in order to claim a prize, the game must be played out to the very end. Any participant that breaks the flow of the game may face consequences...”

  Consequences? The word pierced Jo’s inebriated bubble.

  “What sort of consequences?” she asked.

  Dave shot her a look - lighten up. “Come on, let’s get on with it yeah?”

  All expectant eyes on her now, Jo’s finger hovered over the button. She hated peer pressure. Jo tapped the ‘Accept’ button and the screens went black before displaying a cool, cobalt blue graphic, which read:

  ‘ROUND 1: GETTING TO KNOW YOU’.

  “Because you all love online quizzes, you will each be asked a few simple questions based upon your all2gethr profiles,” Alligator continued in the amiable tone of a game show host, “Dave?”

  “Yes mate?”

  “You will go first.”

  “Ooohhh!” Teasing laughter from the others, who looked relieved not to be going first.

  “Good luck mate,” Max said, putting his fingertip to his forehead and saluting Dave.

  Dave rubbed his hands together, up for the challenge and clearly relishing being in the spotlight with a captive audience. The screen displays changed, displaying an online quiz machine style rendition of Dave’s All2gethr profile.

  “Oh, I’m looking forward to this,” Dave said. He was a regular in front of the electronic quiz machine at his local pub. This would be a doddle.

  “Question one,” Alligator said, “How many goals have you scored this season in your Sunday League football team?”

  A jaunty question mark graphic hovered over Dave’s profile page, animated to pulse like a heartbeat. This really was like one of the online quizzes they were all so familiar with, with Alligator’s ‘presence’ adding an extra dimension and making it feel like they were starring in a televised game show.

  “He’s the ball boy,” Max quipped, chuckling.

  “Oh God, erm...”

  “Hesitation!” Gwen giggled, looking round at the others.

  “Eight? No... Nine, yes nine. Final answer,” Dave said.

  “Question two. Have you ever had any piercings or tattoos?”

  “Just a tattoo - on my back,” Dave replied, turning to Jo and whispering conspiratorially. “It says ‘sinner’ in Japanese.”

  Dave mimed some wild kung fu moves, almost knocking the champagne bottle over. Jo and Gwen shared a mocking glance at his antics.

  “The third and final question is a Picture Round. Please look at the photo on screen.”

  The image of a glamorous-looking blonde girl flashed up on all the monitors. The photo showed her sat at the opposite side of a candlelit dinner table to whoever took the photo. She was dressed up to the nines, all fake tan and thick eyeliner. There was a red lipstick stain on the glass of white wine she was holding between her pink-varnished fingernails.

  “Can you identify the girl in this picture?” the Alligator pressed.

  Dave hesitated. Some of the colour had drained from his face. He leaned closer to the screen, mouth slightly open.

  “Having a good think about this one, aren’t you?” Max joked.

  “I... can’t remember,” Dave muttered. The laughter had gone from his eyes.

  Jo chuckled. “Need to ‘phone a friend’?”

  “The picture was only taken a few weeks ago,” Alligator reminded him, “So, who is she?”

  “I don’t know.” Dave looked a little flustered now. “Pass. I don’t know.”

  Dave’s screen displayed the word ‘PROCESSING’ and a spinning progress wheel. At last, the Alligator spoke.

  “All three of your answers are incorrect.”

  Dave blushed as the others fell about laughing.

  “The answer to question one,” the Alligator continued, “was that you haven’t scored a single goal this season. In fact, you’ve been banned from playing for assaulting a rival player.”

  “Yeah, well. The wanker had it coming...” Dave spat.

  “Liar.” Max snickered.

  Gwen shook her head. “Not very Christian, is it?”

  “Well, I’m not a bloody Christian am I?” Dave spat.

  “Question two - as well as the tattoo on your back, you also had your scrotum pierced three years ago.”

  Dave looked gobsmacked. The cabin shook with surprised laughter from the others.

  “Kinky bugger!” Gwen exclaimed.

  “You know it love,” Dave purred, rising from his seat into a showman’s swagger borne of his embarrassment.

  Max shook his head. “That’s just wrong, man.”

  Dave leaned close to Max. “Chicks dig it mate.” He looked at Jo, then Gwen, licking his lips.

  Jo groaned. “Not too sure about that one Dave.”

  “Question three - the girl in the picture is Aimée, a French student currently studying in the UK. You met her last week for drinks, slept with her, then blocked her on All2gethr the next morning.”

  Stunned silence filled the cabin, Dave’s face flushing under the others’ gazes. Max pointed at his wedding ring finger, tut-tutting loudly and shaking his head.

  “You may have scored that night, but today you’ve scored in fact - zero,” Alligator deadpanned. “Summary - you’re a cheat in life and on the pitch.”

  “What a load of horseshit...” Dave’s irritation was written on his face. He grabbed the champagne, swigging from the bottle in defiance.

  Maybe this game wasn’t such a doddle after all.

  “Jo, you are next,” Alligator announced.

  Their screens now displayed a quiz-style version of Jo’s profile page.

  “This should be good,” Dave said, glad the spotlight was on Jo and not him.

  “Question one. According to your ‘Virtual Pub’ score, how many units of Virtual alcohol do you drink per week?”

  “Oh, I don’t know... twenty units? I don’t pay much attention to those things.”

  “Question two - please take a look at this All2gethr ‘Date Match’ profile. Can you identify the person described here?”

  A progress wheel span on the monitors as an online dating profile loaded up. The profile picture featured Jo, barely recognisable in heavy make-up and platinum blonde hair.

  Dave stood over her, a little too close, peering at the revealing outfit she was wearing on-screen.

  “Oh, no...” Jo laughed nervously.

  “Looking good girl,” Gwen said. “Your hair looks great like that!”

  “Thirty-six double-D eh? You sure about that?” Dave whispered in Jo’s ear, reading the profile text.

 
; Jo crossed her arms, recoiling from his hot breath. “Yeah, yeah, okay. It’s an old picture of me, all right? Very old...” She forced a smile, but inside she felt a pang of anguish. She hardly recognised the lost little girl in that picture anymore. It was like looking at a dead friend.

  “Final question. Four years ago, your profile status was set to offline for a period of three months. What was the reason for this?”

  The smile dropped from Jo’s face. Her mouth was suddenly very dry. The jaunty question mark graphic pulsed at her from the monitor screen.

  “I guess you’re going to say it even if I don’t?”

  “Why were you offline?” Alligator prompted.

  “Yeah, come on,” Dave pried.

  “I was... in rehab.”

  Her confession stunned the others into uncomfortable silence. Even Dave, it seemed.

  Jo kept her eyes fixed on the monitor screen in front of her.

  “Had a bit of... trouble with my drinking, so I got some help. My daughter is my number one priority, so.... I’m glad I did it. With the exception of this weekend, I’ve been abstaining.”

  “Whoa,” Gwen said.

  Dave smirked, clearly enjoying this new revelation after having his own dirty laundry aired in public.

  Jo glared at him and downed the rest of her champagne angrily.

  “Thank you Jo,” Alligator purred. “Your answers to questions two and three were correct. As for question one; you drink on average thirty units of virtual alcohol per week - and a lot more in real life. Summary - you find it easier to desensitise yourself than deal with any real life issues.”

  Jo shook her head quietly, hand wrapped so tight around the empty glass she felt sure she could crush it. She looked out at the dying rays of sunset over the clouds. They looked like blood and bandages. Her head throbbed with the memory of the warning from Social Services. Drunk and disorderly... neglectful behaviour could prove a danger to her child and others... a care home may be the only option... Jo snapped herself out of it, blinking the well of moisture away from her eyes. She’d paid her dues in anguish and self-reproach during her months in rehab. Sophie had brought her flowers the day she came out, daffodils from Nanny’s garden, her little Pumpkin. They were a family again. No one could ever take that away from them.

  Not ever.

  Five

  The touch screens switched to an online quiz view of Max’s profile page. Unlike the others his page was without a profile photo, a placeholder silhouette image on the screen where his mug shot should have been.

  “Max, your questions are next,” Alligator announced. “Firstly, you like to play classical violin - what grade have you reached?”

  Gwen looked especially surprised, sitting bolt upright in her chair.

  “You play the violin?”

  “Kiddie fiddler, eh?” Dave laughed.

  Max cleared his throat, not sharing the joke. “Um... Grade five.”

  Jo pursed her lips, quietly impressed at Max’s hitherto hidden talent.

  “Question two - who’s All2gethr profile have you viewed most frequently?”

  “No idea. My mother’s? I don’t know.”

  “Your Mum’s on All2gethr? Now that’s fucked up mate,” Dave cackled.

  “Third, and final, question - what was the first item you ever bought from the All2gethr.com Online Market? And why?”

  The animated question mark graphic floated over the space where his photo should have been - a question upon a question.

  “Dark horse,” Gwen said. Max glanced at her and the others, looking genuinely thrown by the question.

  “How the hell should I know? I mean, I buy a lot of stuff online, everyone does...”

  “Allow me to jog your memory,” Alligator cut in, an image popping up onto the monitors for all to see; an advertising pack-shot of an ointment jar emblazoned with the logo ‘TRICHLOWART’.

  “I never bought that!” Max laughed.

  Dave snorted and guffawed loudly. “Yeah, right!”

  Jo put her hand to her mouth. Her eyes could not hide the fact that she was more than a little put off by this revelation about Max. And there was something else in her eyes - disappointment. She felt a little foolish now. What her ego had told her was genuine attention from Max could just have been him thinking of her as an easy target. Perhaps she’d misread him. Maybe the only reason she’d sensed the possibilities of some kind of holiday romance with him was because he was the kind of guy who put it about a bit. Her eyes met his for a second and he blushed, embarrassed. His shame looked genuine enough to her. He was difficult to read though, this guy.

  Gwen peered at the picture of the jar on her screen again, brow furrowed in confusion. “What is that?” she asked.

  Dave gestured at his crotch.

  “What? What is it?” Gwen repeated, making Dave laugh.

  The image blinked away, replaced by the word ‘PROCESSING’.

  “You have scored - zero, Max,” Alligator proclaimed.

  “I honestly never bought that.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Dave teased.

  “The correct answers are - one, you are still on Grade One having failed the exam seven times...”

  Max shrugged indifferently as if to say ‘win some, lose some’, but Jo noticed he was still blushing.

  “...two, the profile you viewed most often belongs to Jenny Phillips, whose photo albums you have viewed 234 times to date...”

  “Bloody hell, stalker alert!” Gwen exclaimed.

  “...three, you ordered a jar of genital wart ointment soon after returning home from your trip to Poland when you were seventeen. Summary - a dirty mind likes yours attracts disease.”

  Max held both middle fingers aloft into the cabin’s thin air, hoping that Alligator could see them.

  “Rumbled mate,” Dave cackled, “Nasty.” He rubbed his crotch in mock-genital discomfort. Gwen’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

  Max turned to Jo and held her gaze. “I didn’t buy it,” he muttered.

  Alligator’s voice boomed from the speakers once more. “Gwen. Your questions begin now.”

  Now she was under the spotlight, Gwen now looked unsure about the whole thing.

  “I’m not sure I want to play. It’s all getting a bit too personal,” she said.

  “To reiterate, please note the rules stipulate that in order to claim any prize, the game must be played out to the very end.”

  Dave leaned forward. “Come on, you were happy enough to listen to our answers, weren’t you love?”