The Nightmare Game

by Martin, S. Suzanne

  “Hi… Ashley, is it?” he asked, looking at my chart. “Ashley Adams?”

  “Yes,” I said, as he wrote something on my chart. “How do you know my name?”

  “The uncle of one of the gentlemen that was found with you, an Edmond Montgomery, told us.

  “I’m glad to see you’re up. You’re the first one to regain consciousness of the group of people you came in with yesterday.”

  “What happened?” I asked him.

  “I was hoping you could tell me. You were found unconscious with several other unconscious people. You have a few broken bones and a concussion, nothing life threatening, but you’ll need to take it easy for awhile. Everyone else is still out. We don’t know more because nobody had any wallets or purses with them, no IDs, keys or money. The police suspect that maybe you were all involved in a gang mugging or something like that. Can you shed any light on anything for us?”

  “No, I can’t, I’m afraid. Everything’s just a blank to me right now.” I lied to him even though my memories had already come back, at least partially. What was I to tell him? That an insane goddess had tried to kill me but that Max was able to get to her first? I couldn’t tell him that because I didn’t want a visit to the hospital’s psychiatric ward.

  “That’s not too unusual,” he offered. “It’s not uncommon for trauma victims not to remember when they first wake up.”

  “What kind of trauma?”

  “That’s what we’re still trying to figure out, so I’ll need you to tell us what happened the minute that something comes back to you. You and your friends were found in the middle of Ursuline Street yesterday, so I need to tell you that the police are very interested in what happened to you and the people you were found with.”

  “How are they? The people I was found with, that is. I was with my friends the last I remember.”

  “They’re still unconscious. Mr. Montgomery was somewhat dehydrated and a little emaciated when he was brought in. Do you know why?”

  “No,” I lied. I couldn’t tell him that a crazed witch was slowly sucking the life out of him while he was being held prisoner in a stasis chamber, now could I?

  “His uncle tells me that he’s an eccentric millionaire who went missing awhile back. You said he was your friend. Does his information jive with what you know?”

  “Sounds about right to me.” I told him. It seemed like a reasonable explanation for a man with unkempt hair and long, unmanicured fingernails that most people would have figured for homeless had it not been for his clean and expensive, out-of-date clothing.

  “As for the others, their injuries were worse than yours. In fact, we’re quite perplexed by how you were all found together and yet have different things wrong with you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Most of the others are exhibiting a body trauma shock similar to that of burn victims, but they have no burns.”

  It had to be from their sudden transformation, when Arrosha had transmogrified them back into their normal bodies. Even she had said that they weren’t “ready” yet.

  “Everyone should be okay except for that one fellow who was so severely deformed.”

  “Max.”

  “Is that his name?” he wrote it down on a piece of paper clipped to his board.

  “Yes. How is he doing?”

  “Not good. He’s in ICU. He has radiation burns and his deformities have put him into a life-threatening position. I hope he makes it.”

  “I hope so, too,” I said, realizing that he had saved the day in the end, that of Edmond’s “called” people, he deserved to reap the rewards of his efforts far more than I did.

  “Can you give us the names of the others, maybe some additional information about them, when you feel up to it a little more? All the uncle was able to give me was Edmond’s name and yours. He said he didn’t know the others.”

  “Sure. Later, is that okay?”

  “It’s fine. Take your time.”

  A nurse then came in to get the doctor. When he turned around to leave, I asked him, “Doctor, where is Edmond’s uncle?”

  “He left to get some lunch. Do you want me to have him paged on his cell?”

  “Yes, please. I’d like to talk with him.” Actually, I was dying to meet him, this person that claimed to be related to Edmond, this man who could not possibly be the uncle of a man almost two hundred years old.

  After the doctor left, I called in another nurse and asked her the hospital information. Then I asked her how to phone out. She told me to dial “9” first and that would patch me to an outside line. I figured that I’d give Carolyne a call before the uncle came back. I was supposed to be coming back tonight, so I thought that angry at me or not, she would worry herself sick if I didn’t show up.

  “Ashley,” she said. “What happened to you? I’ve been trying to call you since last night and nobody answered. I’m so sorry I was such a bitch the last time we talked. I don’t know what happened.”

  “I do,” I told her. “And don’t worry, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll tell you more about it later. I just called to tell you that I won’t be coming in to Austin tonight. There was an accident and I’m in the hospital.”

  “What? Are you alright? I mean, of course you’re not alright, you’re in the hospital, but what I mean is, is it anything serious?”

  “No, just a few broken bones, but I should be okay.”

  “Should I call your mom?”

  “I’d prefer that you didn’t. They’re still on their cruise. They would want to cut it short and I don’t want them to. I should be able to get out of here pretty soon anyway. I’m not hurt that bad, so just let them enjoy the rest of their vacation. There’s nothing they can do right now anyway. I’m sure that I’ll be out of the hospital by the time they come home and I can tell them myself by then. That way they won’t have to worry so much.

  “Anyway, Carolyne, the problem is that I’m locked out of the apartment we rented here and all of my stuff is still in there, including my purse. Can you call work for me, let them know what happened and get them to send the hospital my insurance information? I can’t get to my copy because it’s still in my purse.”

  “Sure. Listen, later on, maybe you can call the realtor. I’ll call her if you’re not up to it if you want me too. She needs to know that you’re in the hospital so that she doesn’t throw out your stuff.”

  “I can’t. She’s dead.”

  “What? You’re joking.”

  “No, I’m not. She was killed in the same accident that I got hurt in.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. What happened?”

  “I don’t have time to explain it right now. I’m waiting for someone, but I promise that I’ll tell you all about it later.”

  “You owe me a real story later, then.”

  “You’re right, I do. How are Samson and Delilah?”

  “They miss you. I’ll tell Mrs. Miller that you’re in the hospital and that you’ll be gone at least a few more days. If she can’t feed them, I will. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. I feel so guilty anyway. If I just could have come with you, this might not have happened.”

  “Honestly, Carolyne, I don’t think that would have made any difference,” was my only answer. I knew it would have just made things worse if she had been here.

  “Speaking of which, you want to hear something funny?” Carolyne said. “I mean, really freaky weird? The clients said someone called them last Thursday afternoon to move up our meeting to Friday. My office says they never called them. I don’t know who rescheduled the meeting, but I sure would like to know who it was that cost me my vacation.”

  “Probably just some practical joke,” I told her, knowing full well that it was Rochere who wanted Carolyne out of the way. It was just as well, for the witch would most likely have killed Carolyne otherwise, just for being in the way. This was not mercy on Rochere’s part, only convenience.r />
  I looked up and saw an older man peeking in the door. It must have been Edmond’s “uncle”, so I told Carolyne I had to go, giving her the information on where I was and how to reach me before I hung up.

  Julian’s Tale

  I waived the man to come into my room, for I was anxious to meet this person who claimed to be related to Edmond and who knew my name without my ever telling him.

  “Hello, Miss Adams,” he said, his accent that of a British man who had lived a long time in the New Orleans area. He was impeccably dressed in an expensive suit and looked quite dapper. “I’m Julian Tate. Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

  “Well, it’s not like my schedule’s booked solid for the time being, and I am curious, how do you know my name and Edmond’s? I know you said that you were his uncle, but we both know that can’t be true.”

  “How right you are, Miss Adams,” he agreed.

  “You can call me Ashley. Now that we’ve both decided that you’re not his uncle, then, who are you?”

  “I’m the closest thing to family that he’s got left in this world. That’s how I know his name.”

  “And how do you know mine?”

  “You introduced yourself to my grandson, Troy, when you first arrived in the city.”

  As soon as he said this, I relaxed my guard.

  “Troy. So you’re his grandfather,” I said, holding out my good hand for him to shake. “He saved my life in Rochere’s office.”

  “That was his job.”

  “How did he know that I was there?”

  “When it comes time for Edmond to call the people who actually have a real chance at destroying Rochere, we set out a protective detail on them. We monitor Rochere’s e-mails and then we watch the airports and monitor taxicab and minibus transmissions for destinations to her office. As soon as we noticed your destination, we sent Troy out to rescue you. Lucky thing, too, for Rochere was able to get into your head and almost destroy you before Troy was able to intervene.”

  “What if I would have rented a car? Or driven in?” I asked.

  “In the past, that would have been your bad luck, but these days, GPS trackers help us out immensely.”

  “Sounds pretty tedious,” I observed.

  “We have the manpower. Also, Troy was the one that bought the food for your second day. We knew from experience that you would probably need it after The Crypt. I hope it wasn’t too much of a mess, since he had to throw it over the courtyard wall. He also wrote a note and signed Virginia’s name. I do hope the meal survived intact.”

  “That was him? I thought it was Virginia.”

  “No, although she brought it in and put it into the refrigerator for you. Actually, I don’t think anyone could actually see her except for Edmond’s chosen.”

  “Well, bless his heart. I don’t remember ever being as hungry as I was that day. That explains the handwriting on the note, then.”

  “Yes, Troy really is quite a brilliant fellow, but I never could get him to improve his handwriting. Pity, but good penmanship seems to be a lost art these days.”

  “So I didn’t just accidentally run into Troy a second time before my first visit to The Crypt?” I asked.

  “Oh, no. We hired an independent private investigator to follow you that night. We sent Troy in to give you the moral support that we knew you needed to go into that club and not to leave the city. Rochere would have killed you for sure had you left.”

  “Okay, but how did he know that The Crypt was even there? He wasn’t supposed to be able to see it without either the amulet or taking essence.”

  “He couldn’t see it. It’s just that we’ve helped out so many people in the past that we knew its location from experience. Rochere never changed it because she never suspected we were trying to help Edmond. However, he couldn’t come in with you because, without the amulet, that was impossible.”

  “So Arrosha never picked up on you guys, in all these years, right? How is that possible?”

  “She thought she’d killed us all off a long time ago. The survivors of our Trust have managed to keep her unaware of our involvement.”

  “Trust, what Trust?”

  “You see, Edmond has had staunch friends all along, allies of which he was completely unaware. We are all members of a group that I’m sure he thought Rochere destroyed a very long time ago.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked him.

  “Let me start from the beginning. You see, Edmond was an archaeologist before he was taken prisoner. This was in the very early days of the field, a time when most archaeologists were rich, privileged young men, wealthy, dedicated amateurs existing in loosely formed societies, not the professionals tightly bound to universities and foundations as we have today. Edmond and his friends had both the interest and the means to belong to such a select group. Originally, there were three of them working together, Edmond and two of his closest, lifelong friends. Realizing that their adventures were becoming increasingly dangerous, this group of adventurers decided to create an organization, a trust that would protect their monies and their properties, to ensure that their previously informal little society would survive should anything happen to any of them. The three of them put quite a tidy sum into their cause, an organization they created in order to further the advancement of archaeology. For not only were they all unmarried at the time, but their families were so incredibly wealthy that this contribution, while considerable, was just a drop in the bucket for them. In the end, it proved to be far wiser a decision than anyone could have imagined, for no one could have envisioned Edmond meeting Rochere.

  “Once she had imprisoned Edmond, the other two original members met untimely deaths, along with his family. However, unbeknownst to Edmond, a fourth member had newly been added to the group, one about which he knew nothing. The Institute for Antiquities, the original name of the Trust, had not had the time to inform him of the change in its membership, since news traveled so slowly in those days. As a result, what Edmond did not know, Rochere apparently did not know and thus we continued to exist as an entity.

  “Since Edmond had written back to England after he had met Rochere, his friends were aware of her presence and, at the end, in his very last letter, how powerful and dangerous that Edmond suspected her to be. After the deaths of his friends and most of his family, the last person left at the Institute for Antiquities, the one unknown to Edmond, thought it wise to restructure the association to prevent her infiltration. He had a friend of his, who was a great legal mind, set everything up so that nothing could be traced back to Edmond, except by someone extraordinarily intelligent and extremely determined, neither of which, thank God, was Rochere. They renamed it the Trust. Even with all the precautions we took, I’m still convinced, though, that it was the necklace and its box that actually kept us from her detection all of these years.”

  “So it was more than the wearer that the necklace protected,” I said.

  “Yes, although our protection was limited to an inability on Rochere’s part to sense us. We never took that protection for granted, however, and have been inordinately careful to stay in the shadows.

  “After our first set of precautions, we sent yet another solicitor, one that was completely ignorant of all knowledge of us, to New Orleans and Baton Rouge to set up our Trust in the U.S. and set up the paperwork on the house on Toulouse Street to prevent it from being traced back to any ownership in England. A third solicitor merged the U.S. and British corporations together. Our holdings are now world-wide. As far as Rochere is concerned, we are just one more multi-national corporation, although in reality, we have been protecting Edmond and his friends’ assets, assisting this quest ever since he disappeared and his colleagues died.”

  “I wondered why Rochere was never able to get her hands on the house,” I said.

  “We wouldn’t let her. It belongs to the Trust. It has since Edmond signed it over to us before his disappearance. Rochere never owned it,” he replied.

  “She s
ure acted like she did.”

  Julian chucked. “I’m quite sure. Oh, she wanted the house very badly because it was the link, it was where the necklace and both the boxes had made their home, but the Trust refused to sell it to her. Eventually, we allowed her to manage the property.”

  “Why on earth did you do that?” I asked.

  “Seems counter-intuitive, doesn’t it?” Julian said. “It took us awhile to understand the implications ourselves. Have you not noticed that there is no one after Virginia that survived for any length of time until Marcus came along?”

  “Yes, I did. But the only reason I know is because I was in the game. How did you know?”

  “The boxes always returned to the house immediately after a player was called. No one ever knew where they were in the interim. Virginia was able to communicate their reappearance to us by hanging a handkerchief on the third floor balcony.”

  “And Rochere never noticed.”

  “I think the amulet boxes kept her and her minions from seeing it. Or themselves, for that matter. Considering that she never found the boxes, as extensively as she and her cohorts searched, I think it’s safe to assume as much.”

  “What did that have to do with giving her control of the house?” I asked.

  “Eventually we realized that we needed to keep tabs on her. Allowing Rochere the illusion of power over that house was our way of doing it. It was the only way that we could keep an eye out for her and have any control over the situation whatsoever. We were able to monitor her movements in the beginning of every new attempt because she stayed in her persona of the rental agent. If we had not let her have some control over the property, we would never have been able to help you when you were in her office.”

  “Point taken. Do you think she ever suspected your involvement?”

  “I think that she thought humans were too stupid, beneath her suspicion.”

  “That certainly sounds like Arrosha,” I said.

  “Arrosha?” Julian asked.

  “Her real name, at least as far as I know. It’s what her followers called her and what she called herself.”