Outlive (The Baggers Trilogy, #1) (43 page)

             
Baggs hadn’t had a stupendous showing in Outlive, but he had done well enough that he thought it was likely that Emperor Daman would want to see him on the sand again, as a gladiator. Baggs thought about chopping the bloody, murderous man’s head off in the maze, and then of stabbing his spear through the bottom of Chobb Lowe’s foot.
I bet that Byron Turner was salivating while watching that.

             
When former Outlive contestants accepted an offer to be gladiators, their Outlive owners received some kind of compensation. It was a way of rewarding the owners for training good competitors. Baggs wasn’t quite sure what the reward for honing a competitor into a potential gladiator would be, but he guessed that Turner probably wouldn’t turn it down.

             
Especially if I can convince him that I won’t tell about the steroids.

             
But Baggs wasn’t so sure that this would work out. Perhaps the risk of Baggs being let loose with such information would be frightening enough to Turner that he wouldn’t even be interested in the reward money.

             
And then there’s Spinks and Larry to think about. Do I just let them die without warning them of what’s coming?

             
He didn’t really care what happened to Larry, but Spinks had fought to save his life. It would be unethical not to let her know about Gigi’s letter and give her a chance to find a solution.

             
It’s decided then. I’m going to tell them.

             
Baggs opened his mouth to speak once more, but Spinks interrupted this time.

             
“Larry, you awake?”

             
Larry grunted.

             
“Sit up, I need to talk to you. Both of you.”

             
Larry waved a dismissive hand and didn’t stir. Spinks stood up and kicked him in the back.

             
“Shit! What was that for?” Larry asked. He sat up and looked at Spinks with accusing eyes.

             
“This is serious. I have something to tell you two.” Spinks looked pale. Baggs was confused and wondered how long this would take. He wanted the three of them to have plenty of time to plan after he dropped the bomb and explained that Turner would try to kill them.

             
Spinks licked her lips, which were covered in dried blood from her nose. “Turner is going to try to kill us,” she said.

             
“What?” Larry yelled. He looked angry.

             
Spinks leaned forward, thinking of what to say next. “I don’t have any proof,” she said, “but there are a few facts that lead me to believe that he’ll try to kill us. His last competitor died of a heart attack; Turner, who’s a cardiologist, filled out the death certificate himself. I think that he poisoned Higgins and then covered it up. I think that he’ll do the same to us.”

             
“Why the hell would he want to kill us?” Larry asked.

             
“Calm down,” Spinks said back. “I think that he wants to cover up the fact that he’s giving his teams steroids.”

             
“Steroids? What are you talking about? Baggs, does this make any sense to you?” Larry looked between the two of them.

             
“I’m actually shocked that Spinks just said that,” Baggs said. Larry nodded and gave Spinks a look that said,
told ya!
“Not because I don’t believe her, but because I was about to say the same thing. I think Turner will try to kill us, too.”

             
Spinks looked relieved that Baggs believed her.

             
“Wait, what? I feel like I woke up in loony land. You guys think that Turner gave us steroids? And that he’s trying to cover it up?”

             
Spinks shook her head and looked at Larry as though he had just suggested that the moon was made of cheese. “Larry, Turner gave us all steroids. That’s what those injections were. Listen to my voice; it’s deeper. Listen to Baggs’s, and listen to your own.”

             
Larry froze for a second. “But… But…”

             
“And,” Baggs added, “not to be graphic, but my balls have shrunk. I suspect you’ve experienced the same thing.”

             
“I…well…
steroids?
They said they were vitamins!”

             
Baggs thought,
Larry is kind of sharp when it comes to computer stuff, but he’s lacking in the common sense department.

             
“Of course they did, because owners aren’t allowed to give steroids to Outlive competitors,” Spinks said.

             
Larry sat still for a moment and then uttered a diminutive “Oh.” He was quiet, taking it in. Then he said, “but how do you know that he’s going to kill us? I mean, what can we prove?”

             
“Nothing, really. But he doesn’t want Emperor Daman suspicious of him cheating. Look, I’m not saying what he’s going to do is the best idea or that it makes a ton of sense, but it looks like he killed Paul Higgins, and I have a gut feeling that he’ll kill us. The man got away with rape in court, and I think that he feels he’s untouchable. And we know a dirty little secret of his, and it’d be convenient for him if we died. He doesn’t care about us.”

             
Larry ran a hand over his face. “So you don’t have any proof, though? You’ve just got a hunch?”

             
“Well, yeah,” Spinks said.

             
Larry started laughing. “This is absurd. No. Turner is not going to kill us. You’ve just made up some wild speculation. You’re a conspiracy theorist, Spinks, and you think through all the options. That’s what makes you such a great hacker. But in this case, you’ve got it wrong.”

             
“No she doesn’t,” Baggs said. “Not according to Turner’s daughter.” He told them about the letter that he found in his napkin.

             
In just moments, Larry had gone from incredulous and angry to scared. He now sat on the bench seat, chewing his nails and rocking back and forth. “So what are we going to do?” he said around his fingers.

             
“I don’t know,” Baggs said honestly. “I don’t see any way out of this. I was hoping that you guys could help me with that.”

             
Spinks smiled with her bloody mouth. “I have a plan. It’ll be risky, but if it works, we’ll be practically home free.”

             
She explained it to them. Baggs’s heart pumped nervously as he listened to what she proposed they do. They talked through it all the way back.

             
It won’t work,
Baggs thought. He didn’t really have any better idea, though. The idea relied on the fact that Turner would want to have another dinner with them. Spinks said that he would. “He’ll probably invite a few friends over. He’ll want to show us off.”

Baggs
didn’t like the word ‘probably.’

If they weren’t invited in to eat with them, they’d be done for. They talked over the possibility that Turner might just take them down into the basement and chop their heads off. If that was his plan, they had no planned response.

“Before he kills us, he’ll want to show us off,” Spinks said.

             
I hope that she’s right.

2

              The helicopter landed on the pristine green lawns of Turner’s estate just as the sun turned blood red and kissed the horizon.

             
Baggs felt oddly jittery and delirious. He thought,
I wouldn’t expect to feel normal after cutting a man’s head off, running from lions, and now arriving at a mansion owned by someone who is going to kill me, but I wish that I was a bit more clearheaded.
Spinks’s plan sounded crazy on first thought, but after hashing out all of the aspects, it was better than any other idea that he could come up with.

             
There were several things, however, that could ruin Spinks’s idea. First, if they didn’t eat in the kitchen (which was where Higgins was killed) then the plan would fall apart. Secondly, if Turner had too many people there, that would also ruin the plan. Thirdly, Spinks, Baggs and Larry were hoping that there wouldn’t be too many K9s prowling around.

             
Turner’s house was palatial and had a very modern, no-nonsense feel to it. The architect had designed the entire building to look like three crisp pyramids made of glass and metal that had morphed together. In the light of the setting sun, the glass reflected a beautiful array of oranges and reds out onto the green lawn.

             
“God, I’m nervous,” Larry said as the motor began to die down. Baggs felt the same way. In theory, Spinks’s plan sounded good enough, but now as he looked at the enormous mansion, his confidence wavered. Though Turner’s house sat in a neighborhood, they would have to run a quarter of a mile on either side of the home to reach the iron gate that partitioned Turner’s land from other residences.

             
That’ll be a long run. Let’s just hope that the police don’t come too fast.

             
Spinks had her arms crossed over her chest. She had relocated her right arm about an hour after Baggs had helped with her left one. It was interesting watching her work; she shoved the joint back into place like she was trying to move a stuck lever on a machine—she was rough and without fear of causing herself pain.

             
Two figures came over a green hill on horseback. Both were wearing riding helmets. The horses beneath the two figures had the long, lean muscles of thoroughbreds. Atop a white horse was a wide, plump figure, and a gangly, dainty person sat atop another horse.

             
“That’s Turner and his daughter, Gigi,” Spinks said. “God, they make me sick—it’s disgusting that they buy horses while other people are struggling to scrape up enough cash to buy a can of beans.”

             
“The girl doesn’t know any better,” Baggs said, looking out the window. “She’s not really aware of how the poor live. She was shocked when I told her that my daughter didn’t go to school. She wasn’t even aware that school costs money.”

             
“I’ll forgive her, but I won’t forgive the councilman. Fat pig. He’s a gluttonous bastard is what he is.” Spinks’s green eyes looked fiery in the red light. They watched the councilman and his daughter approaching. When they were ten yards away, a door opened on the helicopter, allowing the three of them to step out.

             
The air was cool and crisp; in the East, thunderclouds were rolling in.
That’ll help us some if it storms.
Byron Turner stroked his white beard and squinted at his Outlive contestants, making his beady eyes look even smaller than they were. Gigi sat beside him. She was staring down at the back of her horse’s neck; she looked pale and worried.

             
“Looky, here! Our three champions!” Turner said. He released the reigns and clapped for them.

             
Spinks spat on the grass and Turner gave her a disapproving look. “Why are we here?” she asked. “You’re supposed to give us helicopters to take us home. I read that in the Outlive contract. Owners are to return winners to their place of residence. I don’t live here now, do I?”

             
Turner frowned at her. “You sure are feisty,” he said.

             
Spinks shrugged. “So what are we doing here? I want to go home. Program that helicopter to take us home and we’ll hop back inside.”

             
Turner laughed loudly. Black crows squawked from a nearby tree and took off into the air, flapping hard. “What’s the rush to get back?”

             
Baggs looked at Gigi. She was so still it appeared as though she was barely breathing.
Has she heard more about her father’s plans to kill us?
It appears as though she is extremely upset.
She ran her fingers absently through her horse’s mane.

             
“In any case,” Turner said (with his lisp the word ‘case’ sounded like ‘cayth’), “I need to have a word with Mr. Baggers. I have a business proposition for him. Gigi, will you show these three up to the house? I must return Strut to the stables and then get washed up for dinner.” With those words, the councilman turned his horse with the reigns and began to trot away into the distance.

             
Gigi sat there for a moment, not moving. Her black K9 sat behind her on the saddle, looking at the three of them. “C’mon, this way,” Gigi said, and she led them at a walking pace up the lawn towards the mansion.

             
“Gigi, about the message in the napkin…” Baggs began.