“Look!” he shouted. “I don’t think you appreciate the situation here. You’re a terrorist! You have no rights! We have footage of you assaulting two peace officers!”
Peace officers?
“You know how seriously the state takes assault on government officials and police, don’t you? That’s a capital crime. Right now, you’re looking at the death penalty. We could commute it to life, but we’re going to do even better.”
“Even better?” I echoed.
Sterling leaned back in his chair and said, “Twenty-five years.”
“Twenty-five years?”
“That’s right. Beats the death penalty, doesn’t it? Look. You’re young. You do this for us, and we do this for you, and you get out while you’re still in your forties.”
We stared at each other in silence. Finally, I said, “I don’t think that’s your call. You’re not a judge or a prosecutor. If you have a revolution on your hands, that’s your problem.”
Sterling stared at me, and then banged both fists on the table. I was prepared for it and was less startled this time.
“Angus Fowler and Sarah Finn.”
“Huh?”
“The officers you assaulted. You don’t even know their names? You put both of them in the hospital. All this time and you’ve never asked anyone how they are.”
“They belong in jail,” I said flatly.
Sterling eased back in his chair. His hardened face slowly melted into a creepy smile. We had crossed a line. He understood that I wasn’t going to comply, so his work was done. He could relax now.
“You’re just like every other criminal. You don’t care about the rule of law. You don’t care about society. You don’t care about other people. All you care about is yourself.”
He slowly got up from the table and stood tall. I’m sure it was supposed to be intimidating. He could stand while I had to sit. If I stood up, the guards would beat me down.
“I think we’re done here,” Sterling said. “You’re a sociopath.”
He shook his head with that maddening, knowing smile, and started to turn away.
“What happened to Alysh?” I blurted out. Sterling’s smile fell and he had a vacant, searching look in his eyes.
“Alysh O’Connell? My roommate? Red hair?”
Then I said, “You don’t even know her name? She was in the march.”
I saw something in Sterling’s eyes. They seemed to widen in recognition. He turned his back on me and started walking out the door. I got to my feet. Two men appeared on either side of me and clamped their hands around my arms. I shouted at Sterling, “So that’s it? Nothing? Who’s the sociopath now?”
I attempted to break out of the guards’ grips but that didn’t happen. They were dragging me away when Sterling ordered them to hold me in place. He turned around and put his face uncomfortably close to mine. His eyes narrowed and his lips crept up into a sinister smile. He looked at me and said, “We’re going to put you in the Gauntlet.”
Then he turned and walked out.
I wasn’t intimidated by Sterling’s threat. People volunteered for Monster Gauntlet. Nobody “put” them in the show.
Still, I wasn’t too surprised by what happened a week later. The guard came around again and said, “Hands out the door. You’ve got visitors.”
I was cuffed and led to the same room. I figured it was probably Sterling again, or some replacement the government thought would be more convincing to try to force me to make a public apology or do whatever they wanted. I was wrong.
The door opened to the room. My eyes went immediately to a tall woman wearing shear black slacks and a form-fitting black jacket. Her long, straight, purple hair was pulled back in an ornate clip. She was beautiful, and even though I don’t watch the show, I knew who she was.
“Vasha?”
The woman smiled and extended her hand. “Moira MacMillan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I stared at her hand. I didn’t know whether to shake it or smack it away, but since a guard was standing next to me and two others were watching, I thought it best to conform to the social conventions. I shook her hand.
“Do you know why I’m here?” she asked.
“I have a good idea,” I said.
“Of course,” she said, smiling. I wasn’t stupid.
A tall man in with a shaved head stood next to Vasha. He wore a brown leather jacket and looked like he might have been about 50. His eyes were blue and I could see he was intensely interested in me. There was a sheen of outward friendliness in his eyes, yet beneath their icy surface I detected an underlying hardness. I almost dismissed him as some type of “correctional” official or something like that. Then he stepped forward and extended his hand.
“Moira, my name is Maximilian Cain. I’m the producer of Monster Gauntlet.”
I reluctantly shook his hand, and he said, “Let’s talk.”
We sat. Maximilian talked while I listened.
“Normally, we have recruiters who do this sort of thing, but this is a special case, and I wanted to meet you in person. Besides, I’m a fan.”
“A fan?”
“Of course,” Cain beamed. “You’re something of a celebrity, simply for fighting with the police. And you’re a woman. We don’t get many opportunities to recruit female volunteers for the show. Of course, we don’t get many people willing to take on law enforcement either.”
There were so many things wrong with those statements I didn’t know where to begin, so I did something uncharacteristic of me: I sat there with my mouth shut.
Cain said, “We want you for the show. You’re a fighter and you have a good chance of surviving. It’s a chance to earn your freedom.”
“It’s a death trap,” I said coldly.
“Not if you’re smart!” Cain said excitedly. “Most Runners think it’s about being tough, being lucky, or picking the right weapon, but they don’t see that it’s a strategy game as well. Like life, you get better results when you plan your moves. Certain choices can trigger the monsters, and of course there are areas to avoid. You have to be smart. And lucky.”
“Somehow, I don’t think that will help when there’s a werewolf chasing me.”
“You’ll get weapons,” Vasha said. “And there are always five Runners. That increases your odds of winning.”
Winning?
I wasn’t sure I followed her logic. I took it that Vasha was here as a distraction. Maybe it worked with male prisoners. They would look at Vasha and think of how much they missed seeing beautiful women. They couldn’t stand the thought of being trapped in here forever with nothing like that in their lives. They would want out. They would be willing to fight. They would be willing to die for the chance. They would be ready to sign.
Indeed, the guards seemed to be staring at her. Her charm didn’t work on me, of course. In fact, it had the opposite effect.
“Look,” Cain said. “I know it’s a big decision. I know it’s scary. But this is a great opportunity.”
“An opportunity to be killed.”
“Everyone dies, Moira. We could all die at any second. Really. But the bottom line is, you’re looking at either a life sentence or the death penalty. Either way, you’re going to die in here. You don’t want that do you?”
He was right. I didn’t.
“We’re giving you a choice. Do you want to die on your feet, fighting, or in here, on your knees?”
I didn’t answer. He continued.
“If you choose to stay in here, you’ll never get to see your family again. You’ll never see Scotland. All you’ll ever see is the small yard I’m told you’re allowed to visit. Is that enough? Could you be happy with that?”
I think I subconsciously shook my head. There was a moment of silence as he gave me time to let that sink in. Finally, I said, “So this is what it comes down to? You put me with a bunch of other prisoners in an arena and then you murder us?”
“Not murder,” said Cain. “Killing. There’s a difference.”
“What’s the difference?”
“There’s a world of difference,” Cain continued. “Criminals only care about themselves. When they kill, it’s murder. When the police or the military does it, it’s to protect society.”
“But I didn’t kill anyone,” I protested.
“No, but you’re still a danger to society. You started a revolution.”
I did?
“We have the right to defend ourselves. But you have opportunity to earn your freedom. Yes, there will be fear and strife, but look how much you caused. The punishment fits the crime. This is justice.”
I couldn’t get over it. “You’re going to try to murder me.”
“Not murder. Killing,” Vasha corrected. “And besides, we don’t do it. The monsters do.”
Cain shot her a look, but then turned his attention back to me. He said, “Moira, how do you feel right now? Are you angry? Are you outraged? Do you want to scream at the world about injustice? You can to that! Channel that energy, while you’ve still got it! Don’t let yourself waste away in here. Don’t lose all of your passion and motivation and start living like a plant. Let us help you.”
I have to admit, the man was good.
I stared into the surface of the metal table. I heard the electric lights humming in the silence. Finally, I said, “Maybe.”
Cain eased back in his chair. I looked up and saw him smiling. He said, “Tell me what’s holding you back.” Typical salesman ploy.
I was quiet and then I said, “I’m ... I’m afraid of the ghost.”
Cain was still smiling, thinking he had already won me over.
Vasha said, “Why?”
Cain shot her another glance and his smile faltered a little.
I said honestly, “The ghost can’t be killed.”
“But it can be warded off,” Cain said quickly.
“You mean you’re going to promise not to send it?”
“Um, no.”
“It is the Halloween episode,” Vasha added.
“What? I thought the Halloween show was last month, on October 1.”
“We’re doing another show on the thirty-first,” Cain said. Then he smiled and added, “On Monster Gauntlet, every episode is the Halloween show.”
“I’m not doing it if there’s a ghost,” I said. “I’m not suicidal.”
Cain spoke quickly. “Like I said, you can ward off the ghost. We’ll give you an amulet that is guaranteed to keep it away, if there is one at all. You and anyone near you will be protected.”
It protects others as well? I liked that.
All three of us sat around the table looking at each other. Finally, I spoke.
“How soon do I have to decide?”
Cain was grinning.
“Two days,” he said. “Of course, the quicker you decide, the quicker we can get you out of here, and the more days you’ll have to train, or do whatever you want.”
When I said nothing, he sweetened the deal. “If you sign now, we’ll throw in a bonus. An extra advantage: a weapon, tool, more food ... You decide. Trust me, if you’re thinking of signing on at all, you’ll want that, so you should do it now.”
There is was: The limited-time offer. I knew it was another sales tactic, but it achieved the desired effect. I was ready to sign on, and I didn’t want to lose the advantage by waiting to do something I was going to do anyway.
I took a deep breath, exhaled, and said, “Show me the contract.”
Cain grinned. Vasha wore a cool smile. A slim black brief case appeared on the table and the contract came out.
I read it and almost pushed it away from me. Then I thought about how I would be led back to the tiny cell where I’d spent the rest of my life, unless I took Sterling’s deal and got out in 25 years.
“One more thing,” Cain added. “You’ll be going home. This time, we’re doing the show in Scotland.”
I signed the contract. I felt like I was making a deal with the Devil, but I signed it anyway. I was already damned.
“Excellent!” said Maximilian Cain. “True to our word, you’ll be released from here and on your way in a few hours. This is so exciting.”
Yes, it was, but I know “exciting” would probably later turn into “terrifying.” But that’s what I signed up for, literally. I wouldn’t pretend that I didn’t understand the terms of the contract or what I was in for. I knew the truth. I probably just signed my life away.
Maximilian Cain was right about one thing, at least. As soon as I signed the papers, the process for my release started.
The transfer happened the next morning. My blue hair was hidden under a wig. Then I was blindfolded and led around by guards or other people pushing or pulling my arms. Shock bracelets were clamped over my wrists, so while my hands were free, I was still restrained.
After processing, the handlers and I went for a walk. I heard loud buzzing as electronic locks unlocked, and I heard heavy doors sliding open and clanging loudly shut behind us after we passed through. My impression was that this was a very large complex.
Then we were outside and I was pushed into the backseat of a car. A guide sat next to me. I was ordered not to remove the blindfold.
The car drove a short distance. I heard large gate rattling as it rolled open. I felt the car go over a bump, and we were out.
I felt elated. I was out. I desperately wanted to remove the blindfold. That sensation got worse. I couldn’t see the curves up ahead in road, so I didn’t know what to expect. My body and brain couldn’t anticipate or even subconsciously know which way to sway. I was starting to get carsick. God it must hell to be blind.
After some unknowable about of time, the car rolled to a stop.
“Congratulations, Blue. We’re here. Lucky you.”
Someone yanked the blindfold off.
Daylight attacked my eyes. I squinted to block out the assault from the sky.
We were at a train station. The guard wore plain clothes. So did the driver and another man in the front seat. The man next to me leaned in and said, “Look. You know the rules. Don’t talk to anyone. Just sit. This is a public train. Don’t cause an incident.”
He flashed the remote that could active the shock bracelets. Then he said, “You’ve got enough to worry about. You’re going to need all of your strength to outrun monsters, so don’t F with me. You got that?”
“I got it. Sir.”
I didn’t want to F with him. I just wanted to get on the train, get to Scotland, get through the arena, last 24 hours, and get on with the rest of my life.
“Alright,” the man said. “Let’s go.”