The Sphinx Project (14 page)

He demonstrated how the suits were to be worn and adjusted, explaining the sensors and how to operate the gun.

It was basic and I had to admit I couldn't wait to get going. The only difficult thing was going to be the cast.

The gun required a second hand to depress a button at the front, enabling the trigger. The cast prevented me from being able to grip the barrel of the weapon properly.

After we'd removed the suits and were led into the registration area again, I dragged Mouse back to the car, dashing through the rain. With her help, I cut the cast from between my fingers and thumb. She used the heavy-duty pair of scissors from the first aid kit to hack away chunks of plaster. It let me move my fingers and grip things more easily, while leaving the rest of my arm enclosed. The cast would be okay to come off in a couple of days anyway, and boy, was I looking forward to it. The itch was driving me mad!

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" she asked, worry evident on her face.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I'll leave the rest of the cast on. Besides, it wasn't my actual hand that was broken anyway."

We returned just in time for the briefing. There were sixteen teams and it was a knockout tournament. We'd be in the last match of the first round against a team that called themselves
The Savages.
Seven teams would have already been eliminated by the time we played.

There were six on their team. All of them looked to be in their late twenties, and all were dressed in blacks and grays.

Casting my eyes around our group, I had to laugh; we wore sneakers, but our clothing was not what could be called inconspicuous. Briana stood out the most, wearing a fluttery blue skirt from the bag of old clothes Julie had given us. The other team eyed us over, obviously confused and rather amused, too.

"Head start?" their captain offered, obviously underestimating us.

I smirked. "Yeah sure, go ahead."

He laughed, caught off-guard.

The same guy went over the rules with us again before we were released into the black-lit maze. We let them in first before following the guide's instructions to find our base. The siren sounded, and the games began.

We worked our way around the maze in pairs, one on point, one providing cover, as we were trained. Each pair took a different route through the dark walls.

It probably wasn't fair—not only had we trained for this sort of event our entire lives, but our senses and reflexes were at least twice as good as theirs.

The music in the darkened hall pounded, but I concentrated, focusing my ears until I could differentiate the sounds of heart beats and foot falls from the music. I listened carefully, leading Mouse in the direction of our prey.

I heard them coming and crouched. They came around the corner, about ten feet in front of us. I fired, hitting them both on the smallest sensors on their shoulders and earning us the highest possible points for the kill. The two I'd just 'killed' swore, running back to their base so their suits would reactivate.

We moved forward again, and again we heard them. This time they were hiding, trying to set a trap. I creeped toward the corner before dropping to my belly and crawling low along the ground.

I lay in the middle of the passage and yelled. They bounded 'round the corner, thinking they had me. My aim was true and I shot them straight in the chest causing the lights of their suits to extinguish.

After fifteen minutes the siren sounded again, signaling half time. I pulled myself to my feet and we made our way into the registration area again. There were water bottles waiting for us, plus the opportunity to watch replays of the game so far so we could study our opponents. The other team gathered around their screen, trying to figure out our strategy. We relaxed.

The second half went as badly for them as the first. Their study of our technique had offered no fool-proof method to defeat us.

We thrashed them—there was no other word for it. The computer screen showed the team scores, as well at the individual. Every time someone hit another player on the chest, that person earned one thousand points, two thousand if you hit an opponent's gun or shoulders and one hundred thousand if a team destroyed the other team's base.

Not only did we take their base, but not a single one of their players had managed to gain any points. Everyone else was confused about how some random girls had come in and beat a 'world-ranked' team.

We were shocked that this game had enough of a following for teams to have 'world ranks'. The opposition fumed, especially the joker who'd thought to give us a head start. "You said you'd never done this before!" he accused.

"We haven't," I responded coolly. "It's tactics and common sense, not rocket science."

No one else came near us, leaving us to watch the other bouts on our own.

Our next two games came and went in much the same fashion, although the third game wasn't a complete white wash. Briana was shot twice in the chest, which resulted in her throwing a right royal hissy fit.

The last game wasn't difficult either. They wouldn't know that we could hear them. It didn't matter how quietly they breathed or cautiously they moved. We easily walked away with the two thousand dollars, which was a huge relief for our pockets.

Chapter Seventeen

Arriving in New York, we began our search for The Rising Phoenix. In the early hour, the moon's eerie glow slid between the tall buildings on either side of the street. Occasionally one of the bare bulbs that lined the road flickered into life, sending harsh circles streaming over the cracked asphalt below. Their irregular patterns sent sprawling shadows over everything.

We passed sinister alleyways shrouded in darkness which sent chills crawling along my spine. I shivered slightly, gazing nervously around us.

"This place is creepy," Mouse said, more to herself than anything.

Briana slept silently beside me in the back, while Nicole drove.

We eventually found the club. Its red-lit sign flickered tiredly, as though it, too, felt the late hour. We pulled over momentarily to take in all the information we could.

Two men stood at the door, both wearing black suits. At least one of them had a radio earpiece sitting in his ear, the wire curling behind his neck. They leaned against the walls on either side, talking.

They seemed bored and didn't even turn their heads at the sound of the car. One stifled a yawn as a couple tottered out of the club. They ignored the men, completely absorbed in each other. They didn't even thank them when one of the men unclasped a velvet rope hanging in their path.

The couple stumbled down the street away from us, seemingly unable to walk straight.

A decrepit yellow taxi drove lazily down the street from behind us. The bouncers looked up at its approached. They waved it on when it tried to park outside the club, then leveled their gazes at us.

They wouldn't have been able to see past the windows in this light, but they didn't want us parked there.

"Let's go before they come over here," I said. "I don't want them to see what we look like. They might not let us in tomorrow."

Nicole put the car into gear and made a u-turn. As we drove away, I twisted in my seat to see a brunette girl, not much older than us, carrying two trash bags down the steps from the entrance.

We found a cheap hotel and managed a few hours' sleep squashed into the small, lumpy beds. We couldn't sleep too long—there were things we had to do before going back to The Rising Phoenix.

Mouse drove us to a drug store, where we had some photos taken. She'd found someone online who could make us IDs. They were ready to go, but they needed our pictures to finish them off.

She said it'd been hard to find someone for the job. While drivers' licenses were easy enough to come by, not many could deal with a passport. The others would be fine with just a license, but it would seem strange for me not to have a passport, seeing as I was supposed to live in a different country.

I had to wonder how on earth she'd been able to find them. I knew she was amazing with a computer, but surely something like this should have been harder to find.

Mouse took the car to get the IDs, leaving Briana, Nicole and I to walk several blocks in search of a second-hand clothing store. Mouse had left us with directions before she'd left. We needed to find clothes that wouldn't seem out of place in the nightclub, but at the same time we needed to be careful with our money. I doubted we'd be able to find a laser tag competition every time we were running low on funds.

Nicole and I easily chose outfits for ourselves and Mouse. Briana took a bit longer. We were hard-pressed to persuade her she didn't
need
heels quite so high. I picked a slightly worn black purse with a long gold-colored chain from a table piled high with old bags. It would be handy to carry anything we needed, since none of the dresses had pockets for some reason.

We returned to the hotel and I fell back into bed. They weren't that comfortable, but they were better than the car. Mouse arrived soon after, tossing our new identification at us.

"Emilie Elizabeth Lockwood," I said, mostly to myself. "What are your names?"

"Bianca," Briana replied, a scowl on her face. It wasn't hard to imagine what she thought about that.

"Nina," Nicole said with a shrug.

"Lily," Mouse said. I was sort of surprised she'd chosen a name starting with an L like Lorelei, her real name. Sometimes I forgot she wasn't actually called Mouse.

Sleepy, I decided to have a nap. I wanted to be refreshed as possible before tonight. Mouse and Nicole did too, but Briana decided not to.

"I'm going for a walk," she said, slipping her feet into a pair of Sarah's old sandals.

"Where to?" I asked, curious. I bit my lip after, waiting for the scathing declaration that it wasn't any of my business. It didn't come.

"Nowhere in particular," she replied. Something was strange. She seemed far too nice.

She left without another word. Mouse, Nicole and I exchanged confused looks before lying down to sleep. I doubted I'd ever understand quite how Briana's mind worked.

***

Mouse and I turned the corner arm in arm, coming into sight of the red-lit sign. It glowed strongly tonight—someone must have fixed it.

Below the sign, several velvet ropes were set out and a line of people stretched along the wall of the building. Some looked like they'd been there for some time, judging by the way they shifted their weight uncomfortably in their high heels.

The street didn't seem so spooky now, maybe because it was still early. The streetlamps illuminated the road. Even the alleyways were lit by the bulbs lining the street, seeping between the buildings.

Men and women who I thought to be in their early twenties prowled the sidewalks. I couldn't help but stare at the girls, their dresses barely covering their backsides and their complexions were strangely orange.

My dress reached halfway to my knee and I already felt strangely exposed. It was red, but black lace had been laid over the top, giving the fabric a rich texture. Velvet ribbon laced down the back and it flared into a short skirt with a layer of tulle petticoat beneath. I'd seen it between the racks of shiny, slippery material, and decided it would be mine before I'd even tried it on.

Even if I was comfortable with such a short skirt, I needed something long enough to conceal the matte black blades strapped to my thighs, but short enough that I could reach them easily. Another knife was hidden in the lining of the bag. I'd adjusted it so they wouldn't find it if they did a search.

"You okay?" Nicole's voice filtered out of the radio attached to my ear. It was obscured from view by my hair and the battery pack was tucked into the back of my dress.

"Yep," I said, "nearing the club now."

We'd decided to approach in pairs. Mouse and I went first, Briana and Nicole followed behind. They would watch our backs while we concentrated on locating Marissa.

Mouse and I joined the line. It barely moved—most of the progress we made was because people were rejected or gave up waiting. I wondered, for the first time, whether we might be rejected too. What would we do then?

A well-dressed man dangling an unlit cigarette from his fingers strolled down the steps, nodding a greeting to the doormen and bouncers on the way past. The bouncer removed the rope from his path, allowing him to pass. The man stepped briefly from the velvet square in front of the club, ran his eyes over the line before stepping back inside and muttering a few words to one of the doorman.

After holding the door open, allowing the man back into the club, the doorman left his post, moving down the line with a purpose. He approached us and for a moment the worry that we wouldn't get in intensified. We'd never know if she was even there.

"Come this way, please," he murmured with a slight South American accent. He included Mouse and me, along with three other girls who'd joined the line behind us, in the request.

He led us past the hopefuls, waiting with their fingers crossed that they might be allowed in.

The doormen greeted us politely, inspected our IDs and held the door so that we could enter. I sighed with relief that they hadn't searched us. The other girls received wrist bands to show they were old enough to drink alcohol.

As I stepped inside, I turned back for a moment, seeing Nicole and Briana join the line.

Wandering in, I scanned the dance floor. The place was already heaving and it was only eleven o'clock. Squeezing through the throng, Mouse and I managed to make it to the bar and order a glass of juice each. We stood there drinking, waiting for Nicole and Briana to get in so we could start the next phase of the plan.

"There's a problem," Nicole's voice informed me. "We got turned away. Briana thinks she's found another entrance, but it might take some time. Start phase two without us."

"Got it," I replied. "They'll be here soon," I said, turning to Mouse.

I placed my half-empty drink on the bar and turned to the glass wall that separated the VIP room from the rest of the club. I took Mouse's hand as we wove between the dancing bodies between us and the entrance so we weren't separated.