by James Tow
and all you’ll need to worry about is catching your breath.” Spenser lightened up at this revelation.
“We’re indestructible,” Spenser joked and I realized the three of them wore the same clothing—including the advance body armor. Gabriel pointed a pistol at Spenser’s forehead.
“It won’t do a damn thing if you’re shot here,” he said.
Spenser went back to his precarious state.
“Nice,” I grumbled.
“It’ll keep him awake,” Gabriel said and walked out of the tent—I followed him and we stopped next to the van. Keith walked out with an M60 machine gun.
“Overkill?” I asked rhetorically. He just shrugged.
“I feel safer.”
Chris walked out with a shotgun in his hands. “I’m gonna blow someone’s face off,” he said jokingly. The blonde woman was standing behind Chris when he said this asked, “How old are you?” with contempt.
Gabriel walked up to her, getting inches from her face. “Is there an age limit?” he asked calmly.
“Well no, I was just…” she bumbled.
“Then why does it fucking matter how old he is?” he snapped—cutting her off mid-sentence. She took a few steps back and turned from his glare—walking back into the tent. Another worker, a young man, walked out to take her place.
“Easy. It’s just a game,” I told Gabriel.
“Not to them Paul, not to them. Don’t you find it odd that they hold ‘games’ that could potentially kill us all?”
I had forgotten who our opponents are. I wonder if they’ll look at this as a game…or as revenge. My gut is telling me the Rocket Boys are after the latter.
“Uh, ok,” the young man started saying—fiddling with a pile of black cloth in his arms. “Well…your opponents are already at the site. You just need to put these on…” he said and handed out pieces of the black cloth he held.
“Masks?” Gabriel grumbled.
“It’s the rules…sir,” the worker said.
We all slipped the black masks over our heads, and the worker guided us into the van. There was small benches set-up along the interior’s perimeter. Two people were seating at both of my sides. Neither of which was Gabriel, for both people were shaking severely. The van started, and we began our bumpy trip through Hill Country and to our unknown destination. The person to my right was mumbling something to himself—I quickly caught onto the prayer he was saying and figured it was Spenser.
“You’ll have to watch over yourself too. He can’t do it all,” I whispered to Spenser. He stopped for a moment, then resumed in his supplication.
Not even ten minutes into the ride—still on the dirt trail—and I’m already irritated by the blindness of the mask. I took it off, throwing it to the floor, and breathed in the air of the metal van. The cab of the van was blocked by an aluminum wall—I couldn’t examine the area through the windshield.
Minutes later, we finally hit smooth road, and Gabriel took off his mask. He examined the area then met my gaze. I smiled, but he glared back with intense eyes.
“I don’t like being blind,” he told me. The other three looked around—as if they can see—when Gabriel spoke.
“Me neither,” I said. “So where do you think we’re going?”
“Hell,” he said smiling.
“You know what I mean,” I said shaking my head. Hesitantly, Chris brings his hand to his mask and slowly takes it off.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. But I don’t know,” he said—still staring.
“You’re not going to kill them, are you?” I asked. Pointless really—his eyes answer for me. He remains silent.
“Like I said before…it’s just a game. A friendly competition,” I pushed. Keith and Spenser slowly take off their masks.
“Tell them that,” he says and puts the mask back over his head.
“Just be careful Gabriel.”
“Forever and always,” he said.
The van finally stopped. Spenser’s breathing got heavier.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” he said holding his stomach.
“You’ll loosen up once we get going,” I tell him and the van comes to a stop. The back doors swung open and two men stood outside—glaring at our faces.
“Put your masks back on!” one of them snapped. Once we did, they guided us out of the van and into open air.
“Grab the shoulder of the person in front of you,” one of the workers said. I grabbed a trembling shoulder. Nobody grabbed mine—I must be last. The cold breeze stung my bare arms as we walked—oblivious to where we were headed. I heard a door open, and we walked inside—the door closing and locking behind us.
I tore the mask from my head, and the smell of old wood and stale air filled my lungs. The rest of the group took off their masks, and examined the area. The once elegant room was converted to complete desolation. The area is covered in dust and grime. The white walls and extravagant tiled floors were stained with some multi-colored solution. Chunks of the roof—what looked like black wood and white tile lay spread out, collapsed, across the area.
I know this place…
Blocking us from the next room was a newly constructed thin metal wall that sat in the rotting archway in front of us. In the middle was a door.
“Over here guys,” Chris called out and walked to the corner of the room. To the right of the metal barricade was a television set sitting on a wooden stand—a DVD was taped to the front of the T.V. Chris took the DVD and put it in the player that sat on the television set. We all waited as Chris turned the T.V. on. Gabriel was still standing in the middle of the room with his head hanging—utter sorrow shadowing his face.
“Gabriel?” I called out to him, but he was motionless. He was wobbly in his stance, and pale in his face. I took a few steps toward him, expecting him to collapse. I looked back when Matthew Pollick’s voice rang through the television…
“Good evening. And welcome to the Driskill Hotel,” he sneered. My heart stopped and my stomach dropped as he said the name—Driskill Hotel. I snapped my head toward Gabriel who remained in his state of misery.
“At least one of you knows the area, so it shouldn’t be too hard to complete the objective.” The crew looked around in confusion as Pollick spoke. “There is a capsule located somewhere in the hotel. The capsule contains a biological pathogen that will prove fatal if it detonates. Your goal is to obtain the capsule and take it to the safe on the fourth floor before it detonates. Your opponents are geared to immunity if the capsule is to detonate—their objective is to stop you at all costs…”
“Jesus! So much for games!” Chris exclaimed.
“At 9:05, the door in front of you will unlock. You have half an hour after the door opens to locate and dispose of the weapon. Good luck…And soldier…” Gabriel looked up at the T.V., “Happy hunting,” Pollick said with a smile, and the T.V. went blank.
“Biological weapons! Keith cried, petrified of the mission ahead of us.
“It’s 9:03,” Chris announced. “We have to form a strategy…I suggest we split up.”
“NO!” Spenser disagreed. “I can’t…I can’t go out there by myself.”
“It’ll be the fastest way!” Chris argued. “Paul…Gabriel…what should we do?”
I ignored Chris and the others in their quarrel. I stood by Gabriel’s side—hoping he’s still here with us. The last time he was here, at the Driskill Hotel, he was planning his wedding.
“Gabriel,” I whispered. “You ok?”
He looked up, “I’m fine,” he said.
The door clicked open, and the others panicked. “What’re we going to do?!” Spenser squawked.
“Let’s move,” Gabriel announced and moved toward the door.
“You want to just wing it?” Keith asked incredulously.
“Search the floors quickly. Find the Rocket Boys, and that’ll be where the capsule is hidden,” I told them. “Their objective is to stop us—they’ll be guarding it,” I added and the three of them nodded in ag
reement.
Chris moved forward and put his hand on the door’s knob, “AHHH!” he howled—snatching his hand off the knob. “Sonuvabitch, that’s hot!” he yelled. The skin of his palm was blistered from where he touched the knob. I stepped forward and kicked open the doors. A fiery abyss exploded in our faces—nothing was visible. Down the long hall we faced, pieces of the bruised fixtures and chucks of the ceiling collapsed to the ground.
“Just to your right, down the hall, is a flight of stairs—take them,” Gabriel told me.
I nodded, and turned to the three frightened figures behind me. “Follow me,” I told them and jumped into hell. I held my breath as I sprinted through the fire. About thirty feet down the hall I turned up the flight of stairs positioned to my right. Chris followed close behind me—Keith and Spenser behind him. No sign of Gabriel.
I walked up the next flight of steps, running perpendicular to the first set, to examine the next floor—luckily there was no fire. Seconds later, Gabriel jogged around the corner and up the steps—his eyes focused on the ground. I feel for his grief—but his mood is making me irritated.
I ran down the steps to Gabriel. Grabbing him by the collar of his vest, I pushed him against the railing. “Focus. I need you now,” I growled. He stared back.
“I’m sorry,” he said and I let him go. He pulled his scarf over his face and held his gun at-the-ready.
We ran up the steps, and down the second floor hall. Finding our opponent was first on the list. The five of us kicked down doors, screamed orders to each other, and fired blindly in rooms—trying to draw them out by creating as much clamor