Smoke and Mirrors, Part 5

"Can I ask you to trust me?"

Roman said this knowing that Valerie had every reason to refuse. There was an obvious, though risky, solution to her problem that didn't require her to put her life in the hands of a stranger—fight the other four participants and claim one of the respirators. But she had stayed at the desk. She could've abandoned Roman the moment she had realized the threat, yet she didn't. Roman knew it wouldn't sit right with him to abandon her.

So when Valerie replied, "What do you need?" he found himself smiling and was glad that she could not see his face.

"Guide me to the closest edge."

"Edge?"

"The outer wall. The glass. I'm taking a shortcut."

There wasn't time for Valerie to navigate Roman all the way back to the exit; that much was almost certain. He would have to make his own way out. She explained the route, and he started running before she finished speaking. There were only two doors along the way.

"Breathe as slowly and shallowly as you can," he said, "and don't move around unless you have to."

He worried that the maze chamber would get flooded with gas as well—even though he had a respirator, a thick smog would quickly create visibility problems—but that didn't happen. He passed the first door without problems. At the second door, he had to wait longer than expected for Valerie to enter the command.

"You still with me out there?" he asked.

For a few seconds, all Roman heard was the sound of his breathing, his heart beating, and his shoes striking the concrete floor.

When she did respond, Valerie's voice had lost its usual edge. "I think you were right. About everything."

"For the first time in my life, I wouldn't mind being wrong."

He reached the outer wall of the maze. He had found the use of glass strange from the beginning, particularly glass that was nearly opaque, until the moment he laid eyes upon the hammer tool. In the context of the Association's rooms, most would see the hammers firstly as a weapon, and Roman had no doubt they could and would be used as such. But he saw the second purpose.

He pulled back his arm, then he drove the hammer's spiked tooth into the glass. Then again. And again.

"'Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…'"

He could see vague, gray shapes swirling on the other side.

"'…for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.'"

By about the eighth strike, a small crack formed in the glass.

"'You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies…'"

He continued swinging. The crack quickly widened into a spiderweb.

"'…you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.'"

Finally, the cracked glass gave way. Roman tore off his headset and put on the respirator. He used the flat end of the hammer to widen the hole just enough, then pushed himself through. Thick smoke hung in the air. Visibility was already restricted to just a few feet in front of him. He gripped his hammer.

Behind him, something moved. He recognized this not by any sound, but by the chill that went down his spine and the voice in his head that was screaming at him to run. He dared not turn to look. The thing in the maze had followed him out.

He ran.

When he rounded the corner, he found Valerie motionless on the floor beside the guide's desk. She was breathing, but barely. Roman took his respirator mask off, pulled it over her ginger ponytail, and carefully tightened it to her face. Holding his breath and with hammer in hand, he turned to find the others.

To his surprise, he didn't have to search long. All four were splayed out on the ground only a few paces away from the desk. By some twist of fate, they had all killed each other. One of the respirators was strapped to Alvin's face, but it appeared to be damaged, much like the rest of his broken and battered body. Jeanna had fared a little better—though blood traced thick lines down the side of her head, her mask was intact. Roman quickly stripped it from her and put it on.

He heard Valerie coughing and turned to check on her. Then the floor was rushing up to meet him. Something had grabbed his ankle.

***

Valerie's chest was on fire. Her body convulsed with every cough, and liquid sprayed against the inside of her mask. She brought a hand to her face, feeling the respirator and trying desperately to make sense of the situation.

When she saw the girl with glasses and pigtails standing over her, she thought for a moment she might be dead.

"You're not dead," it said with Hazel's voice, "but you might as well be."

Valerie coughed. The room spun.

"The moment you crossed over into this world, your body, mind, and soul became forfeit."

"Go away," Valerie managed to say, though her throat felt like it was torn to shreds.

"You'll be back. They always come back—until they can't."

The girl faded into the fog. Valerie struggled to sit up.

"Roman?"

She couldn't raise her voice the way she wanted. She slowly got to her feet, breathing loudly through the respirator.

"Roman? Are you there?"

She took a few unsteady steps and saw a silver shape on the ground. Whose hammer had this been? She knelt to pick it up. Its tooth was painted red.

"Roman? Ozzie? Jeanna? Anybody?" Valerie said, a little louder now.

She saw silhouettes moving in the smoke. Shambling toward them, she called out again. This time, Roman heard her.

"Run!"

Curtains of smog parted. George, eyes bloodshot, bald head wounded, and blood dripping from his nose and mouth, was on top of the man who had saved her life. Roman was trying to slip free, but George was pinning him down with one massive hand. The other rammed into Roman's side like a club. Roman's cry of pain was muffled by his respirator. It was unclear whether the frenzied giant was trying to take the mask or just kill his prey, and it didn't really matter to Valerie.

Without thinking, she readied her weapon and charged. The hammer felt awkwardly heavy as she raised her arm, but she swung it down with whatever strength she had left.

George moved his free hand and swatted her away like a gnat.

***

Roman felt the air shift and the temperature drop, and he knew they were out of time. He shouted something incoherent at Valerie, who was face-up on the ground, chest heaving. George's delirious eyes broke away from Roman as he looked out into the clouds of smoke.

"Life," he said.

Then he stood up and staggered into the haze, and it swallowed him whole.

Roman, offering a silent prayer, forced himself to his feet. He clenched his jaw and tried to ignore that his entire body was in pain. He helped Valerie up.

"We have to go," he said.

She grunted in agreement.

They managed to find the door fairly quickly, despite the poor visibility. However, as Roman suspected, it was still locked.

"Now what?" Valerie said between breaths.

Roman tried to ignore the creeping sense of dread, the sensation that something was right behind him, watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. His eyes were drawn to a black square above the door's handle. It looked like… something. His brain wasn't getting enough oxygen. He pointed.

Valerie looked at it and frowned. Roman realized she was still holding the bloodied hammer.

"RFID." The term came to him. "Try the hammer."

It seemed ridiculous, but they were out of time and out of options. Valerie pressed the head of the hammer tool against the RFID reader.

There was a quiet beep, followed by the sound of the announcement chime playing through the speakers.

"Valerie has completed the final challenge."

Roman froze. Only Valerie?

"Come on!" she said, throwing open the door.

He shook his head. "Go, I'll get another hammer."

She looked at him. There wasn't time to explain. He knew instinctively that he could not go through that door with her. That's how it always was—no matter how many participants walked out at the end, they all walked out alone. He turned to go back, and he saw hell.

A great tunnel had been bored through the smoke. From it crawled a monstrous abomination with the head of a serpent and the body of a huge, spindly-legged centipede. It was covered with fluorescent scales, and it stared at Roman with red, unblinking eyes. Its path was paved by a road of corpses, each one with its face turned toward Roman, and he recognized them.

"Go," he choked out. He heard the door close behind him.

The abomination looked down at him. Roman took a step forward.

"Come to me and rest." It spoke with the allure of a woman and the power of a man. "Leave your burdens behind."

"'Consider how many are my foes, and with what violent hatred they hate me.'" His body felt incredibly heavy. Every muscle and bone screamed in pain.

"It's what you want, isn't it? To rest? To join those you left behind, those you abandoned?" The serpent's head lowered toward him. "Cast off this guise of righteousness. What good has it ever done you?"

Its breath reeked of sulfur.

"'Oh, guard my soul, and deliver me. Let me not be put to shame, for I take refuge in you.'"

From behind, he heard a squeaking sound, followed by the thock of something hitting the concrete floor. The serpent's pupils narrowed.

Roman smiled beneath his mask. "'May integrity and uprightness preserve me, for I wait for you.'"

He turned and sprinted to the exit. As he scooped up the hammer that Valerie had pushed through the flap, a voice in the back of his mind asked if this was a mistake, if the Association would allow it. There was a terrible noise like a dam bursting behind him. Roman steadied himself and slapped the hammer onto the black box.

"Roman has completed the…"

He didn't bother to listen to the rest. He flew out through the door and slammed it shut behind him. Less than a second later, the door shook violently like something massive had crashed into it, then again, and then all was silent.

***

It was early evening. The parking lot was empty save for six black SUVs, and snow was just beginning to fall. Valerie pulled her jacket close, wincing. Roman lit a cigarette. Blood oozed from the swollen cuts on his face.

"You should go to the hospital," he said. "You breathed in quite a bit of that gas."

Just watching him exhale smoke made her want to throw up, so she looked away.

"Are the games normally like that?" she asked.

"It happens every now and then. The Association has many resources at its disposal, but its funds aren't infinite. When people like me keep draining their coffers, sometimes they need to cull a few regulars. So if you're over there feeling guilty—don't. If you need someone to blame, then blame me."

"Blame you? I should be thanking you. You saved my life."

"And you returned the favor, so I'd say we're even," he said with a shrug.

"Why did you help me?"

Roman flicked his cigarette. "Doesn't every man want to save a cute damsel in distress?"

"You are a terrible liar." She couldn't stop herself from smirking.

He chuckled. "I'll consider that a compliment."

Plump snowflakes drifted down and slowly melted in Valerie's hand. She was exhausted, but for some reason, she didn't feel like going home either.

"Let me give you one last piece of unsolicited advice," Roman said, blowing smoke into the cool air. "If you were here for the money, quit while you're ahead. Find a good man, marry him, buy a house, start a family, and pray for the souls lost today… but never look back."

With that, he started walking away. "Take care of yourself, Valerie."