The Immortality Game

“Maybe if the two of you would leave me alone I’d have time to think of something.”

“The cab’s here,” Marcus said. “Just down the street. I’m telling my father to send it on.”

“Please, Zoya,” Ira pleaded. “Put this out of your mind for now. Get in the taxi with us. I’m begging you.”

Zoya stared into Ira’s eyes for a moment. In a whisper she said, “Do you know what happened to Oksana? Because I cannot put that out of my mind, not now, not ever.” She held up a zip-cable. “I’d show you exactly what I saw, but I love you too much to do that to you. You must trust me. I owe Oksana for what they did to her.”

Ira slid down the wall, weeping.

“Go on, Irina,” Marcus said. “The car’s here. I’ll go with Zoya and do what I can.”

Ira wiped her eyes with her sleeve and peered up at Marcus, then her mouth dropped open as her gaze jerked to the doorway.

Zoya whirled around to see a skinny man in a black track suit holding a gun on them. She recognized him as the mobster who’d been driving the sky cycle during the chase earlier. In the narrow entryway she didn’t see any way she could get the drop on him, even with the help of the combat card.

“What is this?” Marcus cried. “We called for a taxi.”

“Your father sends his regrets,” the man said in a raspy voice. “Says you’re to be delivered safely to your apartment.” He pointed the gun at Ira. “I don’t know nothing about you, babe.”

“Don’t you dare hurt her,” Zoya said.

“I don’t give a fuck about her. You two,” he said, nodding toward Marcus and Irina, “stand up against the wall. And you, lady, don’t you move at all or I’ll shoot. I know all about the little toy in your head. In fact, reach up very slowly and eject it…‌now.”

“How about you take me to your boss at The Pyramid?” Zoya said.

The man grinned. “Looks like we all want the same thing for a change. That’s exactly where I’m gonna take you, okay? Now do as I said.”

Zoya inched her hand up and pressed the tiny button to eject the card. The red glow vanished from around the mobster, along with the green glows from her friends. She felt naked.

Keeping the gun on her, the man held his other hand toward Zoya. “Now hand it to your girlfriend there. She’ll pass it along to me. Drop it and I’ll cap your knee.”

Zoya did as he said, handing the card to Ira, who then gave it—with a wildly trembling hand—to the man, who slipped it into a coat pocket.

“Good,” he said, grinning. He stepped up behind Marcus and Irina and, never taking his eyes—or gun—from Zoya, he expertly patted them down. “Stay right where you are,” he said to them when he had finished. “Now you.” He waved the gun at Zoya. “Turn around and stand still while I search you.”

She did as he asked. He stepped up behind her and quickly felt around her waistband, then skimmed his hand up and down and between her legs.

“Someone sure did a job on your face. Bunny?”

Zoya remained silent.

Straightening, the man felt beneath her left breast and then cupped the right one. Zoya’s sense of outrage and desperation had been growing, and this was the last straw. She smashed her elbow into his stomach, then she whirled and kicked him in the balls. The gun clattered to the ground and the man stumbled against the wall, groaning and cradling his groin. Zoya kicked the man in the face and he screamed.

Faintly she heard Ira yell, “Zoya! What are you doing?”

“Here, I’ve got him!” Marcus was suddenly there, pinning the man’s arms from behind. “Hurry! He’s stronger than I am.”

Zoya stooped and picked up the gun, then held it to the man’s temple. The mobster was wailing in pain, his eyes squeezed shut. She looked up at Ira. “Get in the car. You don’t want to see this.”

Ira was weeping again. “Stop this. They’re going to kill us all.”

“Marcus, let him go. Get Ira into the car.”

“You…‌you sure?”

Zoya glared at him.

Marcus stood and backed away from the groaning mobster. He clutched at Ira’s arm.

“The car, I said!”

The two just stood there, mouths open.

Zoya blew out her breath and shot the mobster in the head. The shot was loud in the crumbling corridor, but then silence fell.

“What…‌what did you do?” Ira bawled as she screamed it.

“I told you to go,” Zoya said, her voice flat.

“This isn’t like you, Zoya.” Ira looked like she would collapse until Marcus put an arm around her shoulders.

“It is now,” Zoya replied. “They made me like this.” She knelt and fished the card from the dead man’s pocket, snapped it back in her slot. She searched him and found two more ammo clips.

“What now?” Marcus whispered.

Zoya stood up. “Like I said before, get in the car. Your father can control it, I assume?”

Marcus nodded, then supported Ira while he half-dragged her toward the gangster’s air car.

Getting into the back seat of the air car was a blur to Marcus. His body trembled from utter exhaustion. He opened a link to his father and asked him to grant them rights to the car. Once his father complied, Marcus said, «Papa, you betrayed us. What could you possibly be thinking?»