Authors: Christopher Pike
“I don't know how to thank you for your help, Mother,” he said. “I'm in your debt.”
“No problem. There's just one thing I want in return.”
“Anything!”
“Don't gamble anymore. You're never going to win.”
He seemed to take my advice to heart. He bowed and hurried off. I also felt the urge to flee, to get out of that place and into the night air before I started screaming. I felt trapped in a spell only Russell Devon could have cast.
“Come by when you don't know what else to do.”
He was the last person I should go see. He was the only one who knew I had been heading to his hotel in a taxi. Therefore, he must have been behind my kidnapping. The logic was simple and couldn't be denied. I should go to the police, report him, or at the very least talk to Jimmy and Alex and let them know I was all right.
I did neither. That single remark of Russ's continued to haunt me. I had died and been reborn in a hospital morgue. I had slipped and fallen into the Twilight Zone. And it occurred to me that he had told me that weird line because he had known I was going to end up in this exact situation. How did I know this?
Because he had taught me how to play twenty-two.
Plus I was afraid if I told Jimmy and Alex everything that had happened to me, they wouldn't believe me. Had our places been reversed, I wouldn't have believed them. But Russ would believe me. Even if he was a bad guy, even if he tried to kill me again, I knew he wouldn't laugh at me. At that moment, finding a way out of this nightmare seemed almost as important as staying alive.
I walked briskly up the Strip. When I reached the Mandalay Bay, the bright gold letters on top of the casino said
THE MANDY
. I tried telling myself it wasn't an issue, that a few lights had burned out. Yet the letters didn't add up.
Inside the hotel, on the casino floor, everyone was playing red queen.
I took the elevator to the top floor. Yesterday it had been the forty-third floor. Today it was the forty-fourth, because there was no longer a thirteenth floor. Who wanted to stay on the thirteenth floor anyway? Especially here, in Las Vegas, the most superstitious town on earth.
On the top floor I exited the elevator to the left and marched down to the last room on the right. To the opulent suite that I knew overlooked the entire Strip. I could have used his key to enterâit was still in my purseâbut decided to be polite and knock.
He answered immediately. It was four in the morning but he was well dressed. A dark blue suit and a red tie. More formal than the night before. He studied me with his blue eyes, which matched his suit, searching for clues. I don't know if he found what he was looking for but there was no mistaking his relief.
“Jessica! You're okay.”
“Why wouldn't I be?”
“Do you want to come inside?” he asked.
“Outside is fine.”
He spoke with feeling. “It's good to see you, Jessica.”
Jessica
. That was my real name, true, but everyone called me Jessie. I had told him that yesterday.
“It's not so good to see you, Russell,” I replied.
“Why do you say that?”
“Going to play dumb or can we skip that part?”
“You look like you've had a rough night.”
“You could say that. Got picked up by a taxi driver from hell and got dropped off in nowhere's land. Then I got a ride from a middle-aged bitch with a Taser. I never did get her name. Next thing I know I'm cooling off in a meat locker with a thousand dead steer. Spent the next hour trying to break out. But I just ended up breaking my nose and ankle. The cold finally got to me and I blacked out. Then I woke up in a hospital, which looked like a turn for the better until they assumed I was dead and started doing an autopsy on me.” I paused. “Yeah, you're right, rough night.”
He interrupted. “A hospital?”
“You act surprised, Russell. Don't be. The autopsy with Susan and Dave was the highlight of the night. If she hadn't been called off to treat an ER patient, and if he hadn't had a weak heart and an insatiable lust for teenage corpses, then I'd probably be just another disemboweled stiff in the morgue right now. Can you imagine? My brain in a jar? Hell, if that had happened then we'd have nothing to talk about right now.”
Russell looked shocked. “You're serious? They almost cut you open?”
“Why not? According to them I was DOA. Dead on arrival.”
“I know what it means.”
“Well, that's a huge relief.”
“How come they failed to revive you?”
“I don't know, they couldn't get hold of Jesus?”
“But why . . . ?”
“They couldn't revive me because I was dead. Dead!”
“Jessica.”
“Quit calling me that! It's Jessie!”
“Why? You keep calling me Russell.”
He was right. I hadn't noticed. I was doing it automatically, even in my mind.
“Would you please come in,” he said when I didn't answer.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you were the only one who knew I was coming over here yesterday afternoon. And when I think about it, I can't help but recall how the first taxi that drove up at the MGM refused to let me in. I had to take the taxi after that. Because that taxi was
waiting
for me. And it was when I got in that cab that my wild ride through hell started.” I paused. “Is that enough reason not to come inside?”
He checked his watch. “If you don't want to talk, then why are you here?” he asked.
“You tell me.”
“You're here for answers.”
“Yes. Give them to me. Why did you have me kidnapped?”
“I had nothing to do with you ending up in that morgue.”
“What about the meat locker?”
Russell glanced down, studied my dusty shoes, ignored my question. “You look like you walked here,” he said.
“Well, I sure as hell wasn't going to get in another taxi, was I?”
“How did you walk here on a broken ankle?”
His question threw me for a loop. I wasn't sure how badly I had hurt my nose but my ankle was another matter. When I had leaped and missed the meat hook, it had definitely snapped. It was possible it hadn't broken, but at the very least I had sprained it so bad I shouldn't have been able to walk on it.
Yet I had just stormed up the Strip on foot.
Russell could see I was confused, probably because I didn't know what to say. He spoke in my place.
“Who are you going to talk to if you don't talk to me? To James? To Alexis?”
“How do you know about Jimmy?”
“I know him.”
“How?” I demanded. “And why do you call Alex Alexis? And Jimmy James?”
“Come inside and I'll explain.”
“No! You sent those psychos after me!”
“Those people were interested in you long before we met.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
He opened the door wider. “It's a long story. Come in.”
“How do I know you won't try to hurt me again?”
Russell did an odd thing right then. He smiled as if I had said something silly. “How could I possibly hurt you?” he asked.
“You could cut my throat. You could shoot me.”
His next question threw me for an even bigger loop. It was almost as if he had witnessed my encounter with Moonshine, Wing, and Squat.
“Wouldn't you be able to protect yourself?”
Again, I was stumped. He had all the answers; I was just a warmed-up corpse with possible brain damage. “They're playing red queen downstairs,” I said.
“I know.”
“Twenty-two. Not twenty-one.”
“I know.”
“That doesn't bother you?”
“Nope,” he said.
“Why did you teach me that game?”
“So you would know to come here.”
“When I didn't know where else to go?”
“Exactly.”
I hesitated. “Are you connected?”
“Yes. Now you're connected. Please come in, Jessica.”
He had me, I had nowhere else to go. Except into the suite of the man who had arranged my kidnapping. I stepped through the door and he closed it at my back.
THE SUITE APPEARED THE SAME
as the previous night. His laptop was open and running on the dining room table. A neat pile of his firm's leaflets sat beside it. However, the coloring of the brochures was different. I needed to study one up close to be sure, but the black and red lettering looked like a fresh touch.
I sat on the same leather chair as before. He sat across from me, on the love seat. He took a cell phone out of his pocket.
“May I call some friends of mine and tell them you're here?”
I snorted. “Not!”
“These people are important. You'll want to meet them. They'll be able to answer questions that I can't.”
“Are these the people who orchestrated my kidnapping?”
“They wouldn't call it that, but yes.”
“Forget it,” I said.
“I have to call them at some point.”
“Fine. Call them when I'm ten miles from here.”
“What if I told you that someone close to you is with these people?”
“I would assume you were lying.”
“I have tried hard not to lie to you, Jessica.”
“Gee, Russell, why do I have trouble believing that?”
He sighed and put the cell phone away. “All right, what do you want to know?”
“Why are they playing twenty-two downstairs?”
“Instead of twenty-one?”
“Duh. Yeah, instead of twenty-one.”
“That's a long story.”
“You said that already. I assume we have time.” I added, “Or do you need to get to bed early? If that's the case, I'm afraid you're too late. The sun will be coming up in about three hours.”
“That doesn't bother me. I just have to be in bed before dawn. So do you.”
“Why?”
“That's part of the long story.”
“Great. I love stories. Tell me your story.”
He pointed to the brochures on the table. “Remember the scanner I told you about? How it was designed to read a person's genetic code?”
“Yes. Was that a lie?”
“No. It does read a normal person's genetic code. Only that's not its main purpose.” He paused as if searching for the right words. “It was originally built to identify people who are more than normal.”
“More than normal? Like superheroes or something?”
“The scanner is able to identify people who have an extra set of genes. Genes your average person doesn't possess.”
“How many people possess these extra genes?”
“It's impossible to answer that question with a simple number. One in ten thousand people might possess one of the genes I'm talking about. But only one in a million would possess three or more.”
“How many of these genes exist?”
“So far we've identified ten.”
“What do they do for the people who have them?”
“Most people who have them don't even know they exist. They lie dormant and don't do a thing. But once they've been activated, well, they give a person special abilities.”
“Let me guess. Like the ability to win at cards?”
“Yes.”
“So you're special, Russell.”
“Why the sarcasm? You know it's true.”
“Forgive me. It's just that I hate it when a guy starts talking about how special he is. Especially when the same guy keeps
ignoring my question. Why are people downstairs playing twenty-two?”
He held up a hand. “I warned you, to properly answer your question, I need time.”
“I assume, since you say I'm connected, that I have one or more of these genes?” I asked.
“That's right. You have more than I do.”
“Gee whiz, that must make me one in a billion.”
“Jessica. We're going to get nowhere if you don't drop that snide attitude.”
“I might drop it if you called me Jessie instead of Jessica.” I paused. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
“It's your name here.”
“What do you mean, âhere'? In this suite? In this hotel?”
“Please, if you'd let me continue.”
“No. I need you to tell me where âhere' is. If you don't, I might start screaming, and if I start, I'm not sure if I'll be able to stop.”
“Just because they're playing twenty-two downstairs instead of twenty-one?”
“Yeah. You see, I have this small problem when one of the cornerstones of the universe suddenly changes. It makes me feel uncomfortable. And since this is supposed to be Las Vegas, and in Las Vegas they play twenty-one, I want to know where I'm at.” I paused. “Please.”
“All right.” He suddenly stood. “Let's go in the bedroom.”
I remained seated. “Why?”
“We're not going to get anywhere unless you open up your mind. Come, we need to go in the bedroom.”
“What's in the bedroom?”
“A mirror. I want you to look into it.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes. Come.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Duh. You helped kidnap me yesterday. Now you want me to trust you to go in your bedroom.”
“You're as safe in there as you are out here.”
“I'm not going in your bedroom.”
“I can't answer your questions without the mirror.”
“Try.”
He paused. “Don't you feel like you could protect yourself from me if the need arose?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, although I knew exactly what he meant. Just look at what I'd done to Wing, Squat, and Moonshine. Russell was watching me closely.
“Something's happened to you since you awakened in the hospital. Something that's told you the answer to my question is yes. So let's be honest with each other. I know you're not afraid of me.”