The game changes

One masked man was tall, broad-chested, and powerful-looking. He had bright blue eyes that glowed beneath the mask. His partner was shorter, a little pudgy. His safari jacket was stretched across his waist.

They both peered at us through the eye slits cut into their masks. They were dressed identically, except the blue-eyed man wore tall, dark-stained hunting boots while the other had black sneakers.

They waved their hunting rifles in front of them, showing them off, showing us we shouldn’t try to make a move against them. Or a move toward the door.

My mind spinning, I dropped into the armchair beside Spider.

“That’s right. Stay calm. Nobody move,” Blue Eyes said. He had a hoarse, raspy voice.

“Yeah. The party is over,” the pudgy one repeated.

To my surprise, Brendan suddenly began to walk toward the two men. And as he walked, he burst out laughing.

He stepped between the two masked men. He shook Blue Eyes’ hand, then turned and slapped knuckles with the other intruder. “You guys were late,” he said. “I almost forgot about you.”

Brendan turned to us. “These guys are part of my Panic game. One last scare. I promise this is the end of it.”

He turned back to the masked men. “Take off your masks, dudes. We can all party now until the boat returns.”

The men didn’t budge. They eyed each other. The tall one shifted his rifle to the other hand.

“Come on, dudes. Take off the masks. Let everyone see your faces,” Brendan urged.

The two men remained standing tensely. They exchanged glances again. Neither one spoke.

Brendan reached for the pudgy man’s mask. The man grabbed Brendan by the front of his shirt—and gave him a hard shove that sent him stumbling backward.

Both men raised their hunting rifles, as if waiting for Brendan’s next move.

“Hey—!” Brendan cried. His eyes went from one masked man to the other. “Wait. Who are you?” His voice trembled. “You’re not the actors I hired. I … I don’t know you. Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Brendan, how stupid do you think we are?” Kenny shouted.

“Yeah. You punked us before. But you’re not going to punk us again.”

“Stop it, Brendan,” Geena said angrily. “Enough is enough. The game is over.”

Brendan kept his eyes on the two masked men. “I … I’m not kidding,” he stammered. “Who are you guys? This … this isn’t part of the game. I swear.”

The two men shifted their weight, hunting rifles cradled in their arms.

“You’re not going to scare us again,” Geena insisted. “So just give us a break, Brendan.”

He raised his right hand. “I swear this isn’t a game. I really don’t know who these guys are.”

“You’re totally sick.”

“Give it up. Let’s go home.”

“Come on, no more games.”

The tall masked man moved quickly. “You think this is a game?” he rasped.

He swung around hard—and slammed the rifle butt into Brendan’s stomach.

Brendan’s eyes bulged. He let out a low groan, grabbed his stomach, and fell to his knees. Still gripping his stomach, Brendan began to vomit and choke.

The gunman shifted his rifle. Then he backhanded Brendan’s cousin Karen. Gave her a vicious slap that made her drop the wig and stagger back into Eric and Spider. They held onto her, helping her catch her balance. She started to cry. The left side of her face flared bright red.

“Get up!” the gunman screamed. “Get up!” He raised the rifle over Brendan, threatening to slam the butt down on the back of his neck.

Brendan, choking, vomit staining his chin, forced himself to his feet.

“Anyone still think this is a game?” the gunman boomed.

A hush fell over the room. No one moved.

The shorter gunman moved toward us menacingly. “Shut up and stay shut up,” he growled.

“You think this is a game?” his partner rasped in his hoarse voice. “This is a game you already lost. ” His blue eyes were wild beneath the black mask.

“Wh-what do you want?” Brendan stammered, wiping his chin with his sleeve. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“I thought you were supposed to be a smart guy,” the chubby one snarled. “I guess you’re not that smart.”

“Just tell me,” Brendan pleaded. “What are you doing here? Where are the actors I hired? What do you want?”

“You,” the gunman answered.

“You … want me?” Brendan’s voice rose in surprise. “I … I…”

The gunman gave him another hard shove. “Enough questions, idiot. We have to deal with your guests first.”

I studied the taller one. Suddenly, I had this weird feeling that I knew him. Something about those bright blue eyes and his croaky voice. I struggled to remember. I’d seen him somewhere before. But where?

I didn’t have time to think about it. The two masked men turned away from Brendan to face us. The pudgy one waved his rifle toward the door. “Let’s move, everyone,” he barked. “Into the hall. Now.”

“You never told us about this part,” Eric protested to Brendan. “You said the game would end when we came back in the room, and then everyone could party.”

Brendan opened his mouth to answer but no sound came out.

The tall gunman moved quickly toward Eric. He pointed his hunting rifle at Eric’s chest. “You still think this is a game, Fat Boy?”

“No. No way.” Eric raised his hands in surrender and backed away.

“You’ll all be safe if you keep your mouths shut,” the chubby guy said. “And if you want to try to escape … don’t even think about it.”

The two men herded everyone out the door and down the hall. They pulled open a narrow door. I could see gray concrete steps leading down. Down to the basement, I guessed.

“Let’s move. You’ll be nice and cozy down there,” the taller guy rasped. I watched him, studied his eyes, and struggled to remember where I’d seen him before.

“One at a time. And keep it quiet down there,” he instructed, motioning with his rifle.

Kerry and Patti were first into the stairwell. Eric and Kenny and Morgan followed. Then Randy and Karen. No one spoke.

I could feel cold air floating up, and I inhaled the dusty, basement smell.

I moved to the doorway. “Hey—!” I cried out as the taller gunman grabbed my arm. He pulled me roughly back.

“Not you,” he growled. He squeezed my arm hard and tugged me away from the others. He pulled me back to the room and shoved me toward Brendan.

“Why? Why not me?” I stammered. “Why aren’t I going down in the basement with the others?”

“Just shut your mouth, or I’ll shut it for good,” he snarled. “Get over there with your boyfriend.”

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” I mumbled.

The gunman hurried back out to the hall. A short while later, the hall grew silent. Then I heard a door slam. He must have locked everyone in the basement.

A few seconds later, he came striding back into our room. “Your guests can party down in the basement. If they get hungry, there are mice to eat.”

Both masked men laughed at that.

I stepped up close to Brendan. He was gritting his teeth, staring hard at them. My mouth suddenly felt dry as cotton. I thought I might choke.

Do they plan to kill us now?

Brendan took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said, his voice cracking. “Okay. The others are downstairs. There’s no one else around. Now tell me what this is all about.”

The blue-eyed man shook his head. “Haven’t you figured it out, Mr. Big Shot Rich Man Fear? Seriously? You haven’t figured it out? This is a kidnapping.”

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20