David Clark [Clark - Reboot

Game master

REBOOT

David Clark

Game Master: Reboot 2019 by David Clark. All Rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
David Clark
Visit my website at www.authordavidclark.com
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing: July 2019
Frightening Future Publishing

CONTENTS

Doug threw their captive on the closest bed and pounced on him. He pulled out two guns from his jacket pockets and threw them on the neighboring bed, then he yanked the pillowcase off his head. The expression on Dougs face was one Robert had never seen before. He focused his eyes on his prey as he planted his hands firmly on the center of his chest and let his weight settle on him. His prey stared back, almost defiant.

Speak English? asked Doug while nodding his head up and down.

He nodded back in agreement.

Good. That will make this easier. You have a choice. You can take us back to Marjorie now, and get to see whatever family you have again, or NOT.

He spat at Doug. The reply was a swift and violent punch to the face.

So, you want to do this the hard way. Fine by me. Doug got up and grabbed one of the two guns. After a quick inspection, he handed it to Robert and showed him how to disengage the safety. If he moves, shoot him.

At that moment, Robert realized he had never held an actual gun before. With no real experience or training, he pulled from his years of video game experience and mimicked the many characters hed controlled and held the gun in both hands, aimed at their captive.

Doug searched the room. After not finding what he was looking for, he settled for an alternative and kicked the bathroom door handle until it broke off. He picked up the round baseball-shaped handle and jumped back on the bed.

So, Lee I like that, I am going to call you Mr. Lee, for now. Not that your name really matters to me. So, Mr. Lee, any second thoughts about maybe doing this the easy way?

Mr. Lee spat a mixture of saliva and blood at Doug. His head recoiled back and he flinched, in anticipation of a retaliation that never arrived. He relaxed his head back on the bed and Doug delivered a blow with the door handle, sending his head crashing to the right. Blood sprayed across the bedspread. Doug didnt let up. He grabbed the pillowcase and wrapped it around Mr. Lees neck. He placed the door handle inside the pillowcase, against his Adams apple. He slowly began twisting it into a homemade garrote.

Each twist pushed the doorknob further into Mr. Lees windpipe. His eyes grew wider with each twist. Raspy breaths attempted to suck in as much air as possible through the restricted airway.

Doug paused to ask, Still want to do this the hard way?

Mr. Lee forced a wide smile in reply.

Alright, said Doug. He started twisting again. The breathing sounds became shallower and more labored. Each breath searching for air, but each one finding less and less of it. His head started to sway from side to side uncontrollably as he struggled to stay awake. The lack of air and restricted blood flow fought him. Doug let up just before Mr. Lee lost consciousness.

He slapped his face a bit. Hey. Hey. Mr. Lee, wake up. Lets try this again. Want to help us?

There were a series of incoherent sounds, accompanying a nod of the head up and down. Robert and the others couldnt make out what he said, but Doug could.

Good man. Doug unwrapped the pillowcase and discarded the doorknob on the floor with a thud. He placed it around the top of his head and tied if off. He motioned toward one of the bottles of water. Jill tossed it to him.

With it held to Mr. Lees lips, he said, Water. Take a few sips.

Mr. Lee attempted to gulp it, but Doug only allowed him a few drops.

Do you have a car?

Mr. Lee nodded.

Good. Here is what we are going to do. I am going to let you up, then we are all going to walk down to your car and get in. I will drive, and you will direct me to where we can find our friend. If you double cross me, my trigger-happy friend over there will shoot you. If you give us wrong directions, he will shoot you. Cause problems in any way, he will shoot you. Capisce?

Mr. Lee didnt say a word. Doug held his hand out and snapped. On command, Jill retrieved the second gun from the bed and placed it in his hand. He silently removed the clip and emptied the one in the chamber. With a quick and forceful motion, he pulled the slide back allowing it to click loudly.

Doug pressed the muzzle of the firearm against the side of Mr. Lees cheek. He jerked at the feeling of cold steel and the realization of imminent danger. Or, if you dont want to cooperate, I can just pull the trigger right now. Whatcha say?

The captive started squirming under Doug, mumbling very fast.

English, boy. I dont have a lot of patience.

The mumbling continued.

My finger is feeling really heavy on this trigger.

The mumbling changed into a stammering of incoherent phrases.

Alright, you had your chance. Doug squeezed his hand slowly. The trigger propelled the firing pin forward right as Mr. Lee screamed, Okay, I will help. If there had been a bullet in the chamber, his exclamation would never have been heard over the blast. He may not have been able to make the sound as the projectile splattered his cheek and jaw along the bed and onto the floor.

Good boy. Now do as I say, and you might get to live. Doug got up off of their captive. He put the single bullet back in the top of the clip and reinserted the clip. A few quick yanks of the pillowcase off of his head, and the sheet from around his body, freed Mr. Lee into a pile of humanity sitting on the floor. Doug used it to remove most of the blood stains off of his cheek, but it only removed so much. If anyone gave him even a passing glance, they would know he had been through a gruesome attack.

Get up.

Mr. Lee got up. Doug sent Robert, Amy, and Jill out first, with Mr. Lee between Doug and Jill. The gun planted firmly in his back as they walked down the stairs. Mr. Lee directed them to a black BMW sedan with tinted windows. The five of them got in, with their captive secured in the back seat between Robert and Doug. Jill was elected the driver.

Mr. Lee took them on a fifteen-minute drive through a shopping district that transitioned into industrial buildings. They approached one building that, without any direction from their captive, Robert knew was the one. There was an entrance to an underground parking lot that curved around to the right. He could still envision Marjorie and the line of handlers waiting for them at the top when they tried to escape before.

Doug had Jill pull past the opening and then park around the corner. He surveyed the building as they drove past, pointing out to Robert a lack of security cameras. Parked, Doug sat silently for a few moments, lost in thought.

Whats the plan? asked Robert.

Thinking. Give me a moment. Doug looked around again at the front of the plain concrete building from the side. It was probably three stories, but the absence of windows on the front made that only a guess. An area of overgrown old-growth trees blocked the view of the front door from the main street. To Roberts eyes, they should be able to get into the garage very easily. Doug had other plans though.

What is inside? he asked, pushing the muzzle of the gun into his captives side.