The Immortality Game

“Tell you what,” Zoya said, “after every last one of these bastards is dead, then you can talk to me all you want. For now either go away or stay out of my way.”

Marcus ran to intercept her before she entered the lift. He was afraid to touch her. It felt wrong, but as she placed one foot on the lift he decided he had no choice and wrapped both arms around her middle.

“What are you doing!” she cried in obvious outrage, glaring back toward him the best she could over her pinned arms.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me. You need to listen. We—”

She jabbed an elbow into his paunch, spun out of his loosened arms, and shoved him to the floor. “Don’t you ever touch me! You hear me?” Her face was flushed; the bruises gave her a look like something from a horror vid.

Marcus put a hand to his stomach and sucked in a breath. He scrambled to his feet as Zoya turned back to the lift. As she entered the lift and told the lift to take her to the top, Marcus dove forward and jammed himself in with her before the door slid shut. Zoya held the pistol up near her face with both hands as the lift began to rise.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she said. “I’d suggest you get down low and stay there, unless you wish to get shot.”

Still struggling to breathe, Marcus squatted between Zoya and the lift door. «Papa, you’ve got to hurry with whatever you’re doing. We’ll be there in a few seconds.»

«Can’t talk now. Have to focus everything on breaking through to this bot’s code.»

Sweat trickled down Marcus’s nose. He tasted salt on his lips. His father hadn’t said what this bot was that awaited them, but it couldn’t be good. He glanced up at Zoya and saw a grim, determined set to her mouth. God, she’s beautiful. Dear Lord, I’ve never asked you for anything, but please let me save her.

The lift slowed, and Marcus knew the door would slide aside in the next few seconds.

Zoya knew that her extreme anger at Marcus was mostly irrational. But this was her moment. This was the time she could do what was necessary to honor the memory of her loved ones who had died this day. And this American seemed intent to get in her way and divert her attention from what she had to do.

As the lift slowed, her heart began to race and she embraced the now-familiar slowing of time. She began to lower the Gsh-18 handgun toward the lift entrance, taking aim, and prayed to take out as many of the bastards as she could. The lift stopped, the door began to slowly slide to the side…‌and Marcus rammed himself upright in front of her, his shoulder knocking her gun hand aside.

The outrage she felt at his action began to well up in her throat, but she shoved it down again as she peered over Marcus’s shoulder at the long carpeted hallway outside and saw what awaited them. There were no mobsters there. Instead there was a monster out of her worst nightmares. A dull metallic spider-like horror bristling with enough barrels to mow down an army. An eternity stretched between each of her heartbeats. What couldn’t have been more than a second since the lift opened felt more like an hour. Yet she was paralyzed, unable to make a decision.

Ever so slowly, Marcus screamed out, “Nooooooooooooooo!” just as one of the barrels began to spit minute slivers of steel. So slowly did time appear to move now that Zoya saw three of the slivers exit the barrel. There should have been a continuous stream of them, but there were just three and none of the other guns fired.

Zoya felt Marcus’s body jerk as the shards found their mark. She couldn’t hear herself, yet she knew she was screaming as she wrapped her arms around Marcus and cradled him as he slid to the floor of the lift.

The spider bot seemed lifeless now.

Marcus felt nothing, but his body wouldn’t respond to his commands. Twice he’d been punched in the gut and once in the chest, as if a boxing champ was using him for practice, but there was no pain. «Papa?»

«You’re alive!» There was clear relief in his father’s voice. «I did it, Marcus! I broke through one of the strongest firewalls faster than I ever thought I could manage it.»

Marcus felt numb tingling begin to spread outward from his chest and belly. «I…‌I think I’m in trouble.»

«Marcus?» Now there was fear in Javier’s voice.

«I think…‌I’m in trouble.»

He was lying on his back now, feet sticking out from the lift. Zoya was a blur, kneeling above him, weeping and pressing her hands into his chest.

«Aw, Marcus! I’m calling for an ambulance, the police, everyone! Just…‌just don’t die on me!»

Marcus tried to focus his eyes so he could see Zoya for the last time. He wanted to smile at her and tell her…‌something. He couldn’t quite think what it was, and the world began to dim. Is Papa really crying? He’d never heard such a thing before.

«I’m so sorry,» he heard his father’s voice say from far away. «Sorry I failed you.»