“Cool,” I said, nodding my understanding. That nod was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do in my life.
“Everyone grab a spot!” said Daniel. The others hurried to their places, Foster on the far side of the cube across from me, Josie and Mortimer to the left, Stan to the right. I took the spot next to Daniel. “It works like this,” said Daniel, swiveling his cannon up and down, left and right. “Since you only have enough maneuverability to cover about half of the cube, you need to use teamwork.”
I swiveled the cannon. If only it weren’t fixed to the cube. “What if you hit the wrong person?” I asked.
“You no longer get to shoot, and your team loses five points. Don’t do it.”
I had to do something to stop this, but once again I was stuck with no options. At least no good ones. I did have a box full of the darts, but Daniel was fifteen feet away, and I didn’t see any reason why he wouldn’t still have his gun. Could I stroll on over to him before I got shot?
Could I stab him with the spike and get a hold of his gun?
Or could I press a spike to his neck and force him to order the release of the prisoners?
The first option wasn’t likely. Even if I could pull off the stabbing portion, there’s no way I’d have time to go through his jacket before the others got me.
The second option didn’t seem much better, but I had to do something. I could stand here all day, watching them kill off prisoners one by one, and never get a good opportunity. This problem wasn’t going to be resolved by getting a prisoner to feign unconsciousness. If I didn’t act, and soon, they were going to die excruciatingly painful deaths.
“The game of darts is about to begin!” Daniel announced. “On the victim’s side, being shot at by the blue team, unable to hear me but being introduced anyway, we have Trevor Winford!”
“Wenford,” Foster corrected.
“I’m sorry. Man, that’s tragic. The last time he’ll ever be introduced and I screw up his name. Oh well. Let’s hear it for Trevor Wenford!”
Everyone applauded with great enthusiasm. I joined them, while crouching down to pick up a spike.
“And being shot at by the red team, let’s give a warm welcome to Susan Picci…Piccini…how do you pronounce it again?”
“Sounds like ‘pitch-a-ninny,’” said Stan.
“Ah. Why the hell do you always kidnap people with such hard names to pronounce? Let’s hear it for Susan Piccinini!”
More applause.
“All right, everyone, load your first dart!”
The others began to load their cannons. I clutched the spike tightly in my hand, wondering if I should just rush over there.
No. I couldn’t be stupid about this. Daniel would be much more distracted once he was playing the game. They were purposely trying to avoid killing the prisoners, so I had some time. Not much, but some.
I slid the spike into the cannon, and then picked up another.
“Let me ask you something, Daniel,” I said. “I know the money portion isn’t a problem, but how do you get something like this built? I mean, you can’t just hire local construction workers, right?”
Daniel chuckled. “Actually, yeah, you can for a lot of it. Well, the designers weren’t local, but a lot of the workers were. I just have to do my own modifications. For example, this thing was built to be a paint ball game, and then I turned it into something a little more fun. As far as the construction crews know, I’m building the world’s biggest indoor theme park…most of which is a haunted house. They just don’t know that I’ve made it lethal. It’s still a lot of work, even with an outside crew doing most of the manual labor. But wait’ll you see what we’ve got underground. It’s mostly functional but not completely finished yet, so it won’t be part of this year’s games, but it’s amazing. You’ll be astounded, I promise.”
Daniel tapped the side of the cube. Trevor and Susan looked in his direction, and Daniel held up his hand, counting down on his fingers.
“Ready to begin in five…four…three…”
I looked across the cube at Foster, who was smiling at me, as if he knew how little I wanted to be here.
“…two…one…GO!”
The prisoners leapt into motion as there were five simultaneous snaps, and then loud slamming sounds as the darts struck the opposite sides of the cube. A spike tore across Trevor’s upper arm and he cried out, though I couldn’t hear it. I saw that Susan also had an arm wound, much worse than Trevor’s, and a spike protruding from her thigh.
“Foster! What the hell are you doing?” shouted Daniel, hurriedly pulling out another spike. “You’re gonna cripple her already!”
“The aim’s off on mine!” Foster protested.
“Don’t blame the cannon!” Another dart grazed Susan’s shoulder. “Nice one, Josie!”
I quickly began to walk toward Daniel.
“What are you doing?” he demanded. “Stay by your cannon!”
“Mine’s not working,” I insisted.
“Just pull the trigger! C’mon, your teammates are counting on you!”
Trevor crashed against the cube right next to me, the bottom of his ear gone.
“Shit! You made me miss that hit! Who did that? Mortimer?”
“Hell yeah, baby!” Mortimer announced.
“You know very well that you weren’t aiming for his ear,” Josie informed him.
“It’s not the intent, it’s the action!”
“Yeah, kiss mine!”
“I just need you to-” I began.
“Goddamnit, Andrew, you pull the trigger! Don’t make me shoot you!”
He returned his attention to the game, firing a spike that grazed Susan’s leg, but I’d lost any possible element of surprise. I should’ve just rushed him…except that I’d have ended up dead.
I went back to my cannon. My heart nearly stopped as a spike struck the wall right in front of my face. Foster grinned and waved.
I had to play the game. Not well, of course, but I had to play. I had to shoot to miss, and pray that it would be over quickly.
Trevor had gathered three of the flags. I swiveled the cannon to the left, aiming it in his general direction but making sure it would miss, and then pulled the trigger. The spike struck the slide, twirled up into the air, then came down on Trevor’s foot.
“ Sweet! ” said Daniel. “I know you’re not on my team, but that was sweet! ”
I reloaded the cannon and fired another spike that became imbedded in one of the punching bags. I flinched each time a spike hit the cube wall, even though most of the hits were nowhere near me. My head was pounding.
Susan fell to the ground, a spike protruding from her side. “That was Stan!” Josie shouted. “Stan hit her! He’s outta here!”
Stan spat out his candy cane, smacked him palms against the cube wall, and stepped away from his cannon.
“Get her up!” Daniel shouted. “Foster, she’s out of my range! Put a dart in her arm! Hurry!”
Mortimer fired a dart that took a chunk out of Trevor’s lower leg. Trevor let out a silent scream and dropped his flags.
I aimed at Susan. If I hit her, I’d be disqualified and no longer have to participate in this horror.
But before I pulled the trigger, I realized that I couldn’t do that. That was selfish and cowardly. Why should my whiny moral anguish be more important than the agony the prisoners in the cube were suffering? I had to do something else. Susan and Trevor were going to die. That was for certain. I had to make their deaths as quick and painless as possible.
A spike fired by Foster grazed Susan’s arm. Sobbing, she got to her feet and staggered toward the closest flag.
I turned the cannon toward Trevor. He was in range, facing the other way. I aimed for the back of his skull and fired.