Outlive (The Baggers Trilogy, #1)

by Chad Leito

  Spinks shook her head and looked at Larry as though he had just suggested that the moon was made of cheese. “Larry, Turner gave us all steroids. That’s what those injections were. Listen to my voice; it’s deeper. Listen to Baggs’s, and listen to your own.”

  Larry froze for a second. “But… But…”

  “And,” Baggs added, “not to be graphic, but my balls have shrunk. I suspect you’ve experienced the same thing.”

  “I…well…steroids? They said they were vitamins!”

  Baggs thought, Larry is kind of sharp when it comes to computer stuff, but he’s lacking in the common sense department.

  “Of course they did, because owners aren’t allowed to give steroids to Outlive competitors,” Spinks said.

  Larry sat still for a moment and then uttered a diminutive “Oh.” He was quiet, taking it in. Then he said, “but how do you know that he’s going to kill us? I mean, what can we prove?”

  “Nothing, really. But he doesn’t want Emperor Daman suspicious of him cheating. Look, I’m not saying what he’s going to do is the best idea or that it makes a ton of sense, but it looks like he killed Paul Higgins, and I have a gut feeling that he’ll kill us. The man got away with rape in court, and I think that he feels he’s untouchable. And we know a dirty little secret of his, and it’d be convenient for him if we died. He doesn’t care about us.”

  Larry ran a hand over his face. “So you don’t have any proof, though? You’ve just got a hunch?”

  “Well, yeah,” Spinks said.

  Larry started laughing. “This is absurd. No. Turner is not going to kill us. You’ve just made up some wild speculation. You’re a conspiracy theorist, Spinks, and you think through all the options. That’s what makes you such a great hacker. But in this case, you’ve got it wrong.”

  “No she doesn’t,” Baggs said. “Not according to Turner’s daughter.” He told them about the letter that he found in his napkin.

  In just moments, Larry had gone from incredulous and angry to scared. He now sat on the bench seat, chewing his nails and rocking back and forth. “So what are we going to do?” he said around his fingers.

  “I don’t know,” Baggs said honestly. “I don’t see any way out of this. I was hoping that you guys could help me with that.”

  Spinks smiled with her bloody mouth. “I have a plan. It’ll be risky, but if it works, we’ll be practically home free.”

  She explained it to them. Baggs’s heart pumped nervously as he listened to what she proposed they do. They talked through it all the way back.

  It won’t work, Baggs thought. He didn’t really have any better idea, though. The idea relied on the fact that Turner would want to have another dinner with them. Spinks said that he would. “He’ll probably invite a few friends over. He’ll want to show us off.”

  Baggs didn’t like the word ‘probably.’

  If they weren’t invited in to eat with them, they’d be done for. They talked over the possibility that Turner might just take them down into the basement and chop their heads off. If that was his plan, they had no planned response.

  “Before he kills us, he’ll want to show us off,” Spinks said.

  I hope that she’s right.

  2

  The helicopter landed on the pristine green lawns of Turner’s estate just as the sun turned blood red and kissed the horizon.

  Baggs felt oddly jittery and delirious. He thought, I wouldn’t expect to feel normal after cutting a man’s head off, running from lions, and now arriving at a mansion owned by someone who is going to kill me, but I wish that I was a bit more clearheaded. Spinks’s plan sounded crazy on first thought, but after hashing out all of the aspects, it was better than any other idea that he could come up with.

  There were several things, however, that could ruin Spinks’s idea. First, if they didn’t eat in the kitchen (which was where Higgins was killed) then the plan would fall apart. Secondly, if Turner had too many people there, that would also ruin the plan. Thirdly, Spinks, Baggs and Larry were hoping that there wouldn’t be too many K9s prowling around.

  Turner’s house was palatial and had a very modern, no-nonsense feel to it. The architect had designed the entire building to look like three crisp pyramids made of glass and metal that had morphed together. In the light of the setting sun, the glass reflected a beautiful array of oranges and reds out onto the green lawn.

  “God, I’m nervous,” Larry said as the motor began to die down. Baggs felt the same way. In theory, Spinks’s plan sounded good enough, but now as he looked at the enormous mansion, his confidence wavered. Though Turner’s house sat in a neighborhood, they would have to run a quarter of a mile on either side of the home to reach the iron gate that partitioned Turner’s land from other residences.

  That’ll be a long run. Let’s just hope that the police don’t come too fast.

  Spinks had her arms crossed over her chest. She had relocated her right arm about an hour after Baggs had helped with her left one. It was interesting watching her work; she shoved the joint back into place like she was trying to move a stuck lever on a machine—she was rough and without fear of causing herself pain.

  Two figures came over a green hill on horseback. Both were wearing riding helmets. The horses beneath the two figures had the long, lean muscles of thoroughbreds. Atop a white horse was a wide, plump figure, and a gangly, dainty person sat atop another horse.

  “That’s Turner and his daughter, Gigi,” Spinks said. “God, they make me sick—it’s disgusting that they buy horses while other people are struggling to scrape up enough cash to buy a can of beans.”

  “The girl doesn’t know any better,” Baggs said, looking out the window. “She’s not really aware of how the poor live. She was shocked when I told her that my daughter didn’t go to school. She wasn’t even aware that school costs money.”

  “I’ll forgive her, but I won’t forgive the councilman. Fat pig. He’s a gluttonous bastard is what he is.” Spinks’s green eyes looked fiery in the red light. They watched the councilman and his daughter approaching. When they were ten yards away, a door opened on the helicopter, allowing the three of them to step out.

  The air was cool and crisp; in the East, thunderclouds were rolling in. That’ll help us some if it storms. Byron Turner stroked his white beard and squinted at his Outlive contestants, making his beady eyes look even smaller than they were. Gigi sat beside him. She was staring down at the back of her horse’s neck; she looked pale and worried.

  “Looky, here! Our three champions!” Turner said. He released the reigns and clapped for them.

  Spinks spat on the grass and Turner gave her a disapproving look. “Why are we here?” she asked. “You’re supposed to give us helicopters to take us home. I read that in the Outlive contract. Owners are to return winners to their place of residence. I don’t live here now, do I?”

  Turner frowned at her. “You sure are feisty,” he said.

  Spinks shrugged. “So what are we doing here? I want to go home. Program that helicopter to take us home and we’ll hop back inside.”

  Turner laughed loudly. Black crows squawked from a nearby tree and took off into the air, flapping hard. “What’s the rush to get back?”

  Baggs looked at Gigi. She was so still it appeared as though she was barely breathing. Has she heard more about her father’s plans to kill us? It appears as though she is extremely upset. She ran her fingers absently through her horse’s mane.

  “In any case,” Turner said (with his lisp the word ‘case’ sounded like ‘cayth’), “I need to have a word with Mr. Baggers. I have a business proposition for him. Gigi, will you show these three up to the house? I must return Strut to the stables and then get washed up for dinner.” With those words, the councilman turned his horse with the reigns and began to trot away into the distance.

  Gigi sat there for a moment, not moving. Her black K9 sat behind her on the saddle, looking at the three of them. “C’mon, this way,” Gigi said, and she led t
hem at a walking pace up the lawn towards the mansion.

  “Gigi, about the message in the napkin…” Baggs began.

  Gigi cut him off, talking so loudly that she was almost yelling, “The K9s record what we say, to ensure that we don’t talk about anything we shouldn’t.”

  She looked at Baggs with her eyes that were too far apart. “Okay,” Baggs said. “I understand.” She knows something, he thought. The K9 glared at him with glossy eyes. I need to find out what Turner’s plan is while we’re alone with Gigi. I need to get the information in such a way that Gigi won’t get in trouble for alerting us to her father’s intentions, should he ever listen to the recording the K9 makes. I need to approach this topic gently.

  “How was your day?” Baggs asked, walking along side her horse.

  “Good,” she said. She looked nauseated with fear.

  “Do you think your father will invite us to dinner?” Baggs asked.

  Gigi just stared ahead of her at the house as her horse walked slowly beneath her. She didn’t answer. It’s as though she’s been threatened to keep quiet, Baggs thought.

  “Gigi, is something wrong?” he asked.

  She didn’t look at him, but just said, “I don’t fraternize with poor people, or Outlive contestants.”

  Baggs thought back to his conversation with Gigi in the piano room a week ago. Maybe her father found out about that meeting and has threatened to hurt her if she continues to be friendly with us. This is not how she used to act towards me. Something is wrong. The K9 sitting behind her was looking up at the back of Gigi’s head. I wonder if it’s videotaping her, also.

  “Why don’t you fraternize with poor people?” Baggs asked.

  “I don’t have to answer you,” she said. Her voice sounded hateful, but there was no hate in her eyes. She was putting on a show for the K9. Her father must have said he would watch this recording later. Maybe this is some kind of a test for her.

  “Do you think that I could use the phone inside to call my wife and kids?” Baggs asked. “I’d like to talk to them.”

  Gigi’s body rocked atop the huge horse. She didn’t respond, but Baggs saw tears roll down her cheeks.

  Baggs thought Byron Turner, you bastard, what did you do to her?

  By the time they made it to the house, her tears had dried. She hadn’t said another word to the three of them, which was fine by Baggs. He didn’t want her to get into trouble. I certainly don’t want Turner to think that Gigi knew about our plan ahead of time. I don’t want her taking any of the blame for what’s about to happen.

  The front door was flanked by two K9s that were inspecting who entered. There was another K9, a white, slender one, standing in the doorway. The animal’s pink leather nose flicked up and down as it smelled the newcomers.

  “Follow Roger, he’ll lead you to my mom,” Gigi said. She turned and began to ride away.

  The three of them followed the K9 named Roger into the enormous, marble-filled entryway, up several flights of stairs, down a series of long hallways, and into the kitchen they had eaten in before flying off to the Colosseum.

  Turner’s wife, Cindi, greeted them in the kitchen. She was wearing a tight, white button up shirt that barely stretched over her cartoon-like fake breasts. She also wore a pearl necklace, diamond stud earrings, navy dress pants, and black leather flats with some designer’s symbol stitched around the surface. “Oooohhh,” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet and clapping. “I’m so excited to see you three! We weren’t expecting you until later. Byron is so proud of how well you did in the Colosseum; only four out of seven of you died, that’s so great!” She looked at the large grandfather clock that sat against the back wall. “Dinner won’t be for another hour. You three take a seat. I’ll serve tea. And, feel free to use the bathroom to…er… wash up.” She smiled wanly, looking over the three blood-streaked, filthy vagrants in her regal kitchen. “We’re having some friends over for dinner—the Potts, as in Fred Pott in Parliament. Anyways, go wash up and then have a seat; bathroom’s down that hallway. I’ll be with your shortly.” She disappeared off into the kitchen.

  She talks at us, not to us, Baggs thought. She didn’t ask us how we were doing, or if we wanted tea, she just assumes that she knows better. To her, our opinions are about as important as the thoughts of one of her thoroughbreds.

  Baggs also noted that Cindi Turner was very unlike Gigi Turner in that she did not seem the least bit nervous being around people Byron was planning on killing. The difference is that Cindi sees us as items that her husband used to make money and Gigi views us as humans just like herself.

  “I’m going to the bathroom to clean up,” Spinks told Larry and Baggs; though, both of them knew the real reason she wanted to turn and walk down the hall. She was still hugging her arms to her chest. I hope that her injury doesn’t stop her from doing what she needs to do. Spinks turned and walked down the hallway. Baggs was disgruntled to see that Roger the white K9 followed her. Hopefully when she goes back there the next time, the K9 won’t follow her. If it does, we’re screwed.

  Larry and Baggs sat down and looked at the grandfather clock. After a few minutes, Cindi came in with hot cups of tea on a tray. The cups were made out of delicate white chinaware. She sat the tray down without even glancing at her guests, and then disappeared through the swinging door into the kitchen. Spinks came back a few minutes later. Baggs wanted to ask her how her investigation to the place that Baggs had seen upon going to the bathroom a week ago went. She was better with computers and would be able to assess the place better than Baggs. However, he didn’t ask. Spinks didn’t betray that anything unusual happened in her facial expressions.

  The three of them pulled teacups in front of them and blew on the hot liquid, but didn’t say anything.

  “Can we do it now?” Baggs asked. He looked around. “I mean, they’re having dinner guests. Wouldn’t we want to do it with less people here? That’s less people to stop us.”

  Roger was standing up behind them, watching the humans with his electronic eyes.

  Spinks nodded towards the K9. “If I take as much as one step inside the place I need to go, he’ll rip me to shreds.”

  “Well this place will be crawling with K9s when dinner time rolls around,” whispered Larry, his eyes wide behind his spectacles. “Each of the girls has their own K9s, and this white one will probably stay here. That’ll be four. Right now there’s only one.”

  “One’s enough to kill me, though!” Spinks spat back.

  Baggs’s heart was thudding in his chest. This would be their only chance. He turned and looked at the K9. He could see the creature’s robotic hinges bulging out at all the places where a natural dog would have joints. Baggs thought that the robot’s motorized jaw would be able to bite with as much force as a lion’s jaw. Baggs rubbed his left shoulder, remembering the K9 that subdued him in Rolling Hills.

  If Spinks takes too long, this thing will kill me, he thought.

  “I’ve got an idea,” he said to Spinks. “But you’ve got to work pretty damned fast. How much time will you need?”

  “Five minutes? Ten? I honestly don’t know.”

  “Well just go as fast as possible,” Baggs said and scooted his chair out from the table. “I’m going to make a diversion.”

  “Wait!” Larry said. “Don’t you think that we should talk about this first?”

  “No time.” Baggs didn’t push his chair back in. He walked the length of the dining room and pushed his large body through the swinging door that led to the kitchen. He had a hunch that he would find Cindi Turner alone in there. Roger followed the big man through the door.

  Baggs heard Spinks scoot out of her chair and get going to work as the kitchen door swung shut behind him.

  3

  Baggs was wrong about what he would find in the kitchen. Cindi wasn’t alone, as he had hoped. Baggs saw Byron and Gigi standing close to Cindi; the three of them were having a hushed conversation and it appeared as though Cindi and
Byron were arguing with their daughter. Upon entering, Baggs heard Gigi say to her parents, “But he has children!” Tears were streaming down Gigi’s face from her eyes that were too far apart. Her fists were clenched and her arms were flexed as though she were about to hit someone.

  Gigi’s large, black K9 was standing beside her. The robot’s head snapped to the side as Baggs entered. Baggs was distinctly aware that the machine’s titanium claws looked as sharp as razors.

  “Go back into the dining room,” Byron Turner ordered Baggs. “We’re having a family discussion.”

  But Baggs didn’t move. He stood his ground.

  The kitchen was expansive. There were enough stovetops and ovens that a restaurant could operate from the Turner’s kitchen. There were pots and pans sizzling and bubbling on the stovetops, filling the air with the aroma of cooking onions and animal fat. Large metal vents snaked down from the white ceiling and sparkled as though they had just been cleaned. These appliances, along with a hefty metal door that led to a walk-in freezer, were on Baggs’s left. To Baggs’s right, there was an open pantry with shelves lined with bags of chips, cans of nuts, chocolate for baking, industrial bags of flower, granola bars, bottled water, bags of sugar, spices, containers of peanut butter, loafs of bread, and much more. The pantry was bigger than Baggs’s apartment. In front of Baggs, the room stretched out to a back wall that was completely covered in clean windows that looked out at the pristine lawn. The storm clouds had moved closer and it looked like nasty weather would soon reach the residence. The floors were made out of large, ornate red bricks that glistened uniformly with some kind of polish.

  Upon seeing that Baggs wasn’t moving, Turner took three steps towards him over the brick floor and raised his voice: “I said OUT!”

  Baggs stepped forward, trying to think of a way to waste time. Roger was looking up at him, and Baggs knew that if he went back into the dining room that the K9 would go searching for Spinks and potentially stop her.