The back of the van was hot and stuffy.
Naomi took off her leather jacket and hung it neatly on the back of the spare chair in the corner. She looked fit and muscular in a tight white tank top and jeans. Her arms lean and toned.
Brendon just sweated.
They were both watching a bank of monitors on one side of the converted UPS truck. The cameras were fitted to the outside in some way that didn't betray its beaten-up, inconspicuous presentation.
"Riley hadn't used this thing for years," she said, wiping the table with a wet wipe from her handbag.
"Seems to work OK though," offered Brendon. Still watching the screens.
"How long's it been now?" asked Naomi. Brendon checked his watch.
"Two hours twenty."
"I don't get why it would be here," said Naomi after a while. "This place is a shit hole. I mean look at these people, they're just junkies and crazies. Grace would never come here."
"I see a lot of patients come from here," said Brendon. "The Blight has the fastest uptake of V.R. enhancers and cyber narcotics in the city. I mean look at those guys over there."
Brendon nodded at one of the screens.
A group of vagrants were standing outside a derelict art deco cinema. A small cluster of them had gravitated together and were swaying slowly like rushes in the wind. Their heads weighed down with beaten up headsets. A few had inhalers in their mouths, occasionally taking short shallow breaths of whatever was inside.
"Place looks like it's about to fall down," said Naomi. "There can't be anything here. It's probably just a spoof address." Naomi was getting bored and frustrated.
"What was the name of it again?" asked Brendon, trying to keep her mind occupied. "The company that owns it," he added.
Naomi pulled out her phone and swiped to find the information. "Trapeo Holdings," she said with incredulity. "Private company, domiciled in the Caymans. Incorporated four years ago. Sealed accounts, little paperwork, registered notary is a law firm in Panama City." She put her phone away. "A typical shell company."
"They all look like they're queuing for something. They're waiting around that blue door," observed Brendon. "Cody said the admin account was accessed from here, from this IP address, this building, within the last twenty-four hours. There is something going on in there," said Brendon pointing emphatically at a screen. "Anyway," he added turning to Naomi, "wasn't staking it out your idea." She nodded conceding the point.
"Place just gives me the creeps," she said. "It's like being in Zombie Land."
The rain pattered softly against the side of the van. The crowd outside shuffled again, one of them lighting a cigarette that flared briefly in the gloom before it was quickly snuffed out by rain.
Naomi smirked, her eyes flicking over to Brendon's attire. "Still rocking those OR scrubs, huh? Do you even own any other clothes?" Brendon chuckled, shaking his head.
"They're comfortable and practical," he said. "Besides, I had to come straight from the ER. Didn't have time to change."
"Practicality is so sexy," Naomi teased. He shot her a sideways glance, amused. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her legs.
The doors to the cinema creaked open, and the group began to shuffle inside. Brendon's eyes widened as he watched them disappear into the dimly lit interior, their forms blending with the shadows. Naomi, sitting beside him, stiffened.
"Something's happening?" Brendon whispered, his heart beginning to pound in his chest. Naomi nodded, her eyes narrowing.
They sat in silence as the entire group filed through the door until they were just looking at an empty sidewalk. They waited another ten minutes and watched as the odd straggler arrived and made their way inside.
"Now what?" said Naomi.
"I'm going to take a look," said Brendon, maneuvering his black parka off the back of his chair.
"Don't be an idiot," she protested. "You'll stand out like tits on a chicken. You don't know what's in there!"
There was a dusty cap on a shelf behind them. He re-adjusted the buckle at the back and flicked it on. He turned and gave her a cheeky smile, then pushed open the van's door and stepped out onto the pavement.
Naomi's eyes, now devoid of any merriment. "It's too fucking risky!" He slammed the door behind him.
Naomi now alone in the truck.
Quickly she scrabbled under the table looking for something and pulled out a small protective case. She worked quickly to assemble the tiny surveillance drone inside and get it active. She placed it on a stand on the outside of the case and then grabbed a small V.R. set from a shelf, which she rested on the top of her head. Then, using a broom handle from the corner, used it to slide open a hatch in the truck's roof. Rain started to drop through it. Using the drone's small handheld controller, she piloted it outside. Once it was gone, she dropped down her headset and sent the little craft after Brendon towards the building.
"Son of a bitch," she cursed under her breath.
Brendon had latched on to a couple of stragglers moving into the building and matched their slow meandering pace. One of them swayed wildly as he walked. He was wearing a headset and chugging on an inhaler. His friend, leading him along by a dog lead clipped onto a belt loop. Both stank. The one leading the way had dirt all over his face, save for the section across his eyes where his headset normally sat.
On the door to the main auditorium stood two men in matching blue jackets, who were handing out little round discs to each entrant from large glass bowls. Brendon kept his head down under the rim of his cap and avoided any kind of eye contact.
One of the men pushed a token into his hand, "Here, take this," he instructed. It was a little bit larger than a casino chip and had the number thirty-nine embossed into the green plastic. No one was getting in without taking one. The group ahead moved deeper into the cinema, settling into makeshift seating near the front where the cinema screen had once been.
In its heyday the building must have been a lovely space. It still had some of its original seats dotted in clusters. On the far side, an orderly queue had formed around a table with a coffee urn and cookies bunched on small paper plates. There didn't seem to be anyone serving or directing the audience, but Brendon noticed two men and one woman in matching blue jackets loitering around trying not to be too obvious.
A few people glanced at him curiously but quickly disengaged.
The atmosphere seemed one of calm, hushed anticipation. People were sat in the odd seat, or on the floor, or just loitering in pockets around the room. There was little in the way of conversation and where there was any, it was done in whispers.
Everyone seemed familiar with what to expect. They were all waiting for something. How did this relate to Grace? Had she come here? Brendon couldn't see it.
He found a cluster of chairs to the right of the room and sidestepped in. He sat down behind a couple. "Excuse me," he said, leaning over the chair in front of him. An older woman was eating a cookie and sipping a coffee while staring at the tattered velvet curtain in front of them. "Have you ever seen this woman here?" Brendon held up his phone showing her a picture of Grace. The woman didn't look at the picture, just stared at Brendon dubiously. Then stood up and walked to another seat. As he watched her go, he saw a message come in from Naomi.
"Put the phone away, dumbass!! Look up." Brendon looked around to see where she was but sensed something above him and spotted the drone hovering in the ceiling dome of the auditorium. He pocketed the device, sat back and slid forward in his seat, scanning the room for any signs of danger.
His attention snapped forward as a giant screen began to roll down from the ceiling. It looked shiny and new, like it had been just installed. An electric motor hummed as it descended. Then the house lights dropped and the screen flickered to life. It cast a pale blue glow over the audience.
The room hushed; even some who were sitting stood.
An image sharpened, revealing an extravagantly dressed man. He had an animated smile and super bright white teeth that contrasted aggressively against his orange perma-tan skin. He had wild colorful hair styled into two bouffant spikes that sat on top of his head like meringues. He wore a glittery red suit and seemed to be sitting in an old game-show studio video calling on a smartphone.
"Hello my lovelies!" He looked deep into the screen and then recoiled back, clapping his hands like a demented seal. "How are we all tonight? I can see some old friends in the crowd.
"How are you, Janice? I love your new tea-cosy hat, darling, it matches your eyes wonderfully, very raffiné!" An old woman in a bobble hat and no teeth laughed manically at the front. People around her patted her on the back, seemingly congratulating her on getting a mention.
Brendon surreptitiously sent a text. "You seeing this???"
"WTF???" came the reply.
Everyone seemed transfixed as their host continued to name-check a handful of standouts that all seemed overtly touched by the honour of being singled out.
"I also see some new faces here too, which is 'wunder-bar' darlings, because it means word is getting out about Lucky Lenny's Little Game of Life, and as we all know, the more who play, the more who win!
"So tonight, my petite cherubs, we won't be playing for one place, oh no, we won't be playing for two places; instead, we will be playing for five lucky people to step through the doors and take part in the most wondrous game of all!" Then with a flourish Lenny announced, "The Game Of Life!"
The crowd rose up in euphoric applause.
Janice was clapping so hard her tea cosy fell off her head, revealing a mop of matted wild silver hair. Just then the screen faded out and a talking head appeared.
It was a young vibrant woman, mid to late twenties, silky blonde hair and flawless skin. She was sitting on a tall seat looking earnestly into the camera. A gorgeous white sandy beach behind her.
"I never thought my life could be like this," she began. Soft wistful pan pipe music began playing over her words. "I thought I'd never leave The Blight and I would ride out the rest of my life, alone, cold, hungry and scared."
Jennifer Townsend. Round 45 Winner, read a caption.
"Since playing The Game Of Life I've been able to heal and grow. I don't feel scared or invisible or helpless anymore. I have happiness now like I never thought I would know. I work, I have a beautiful place to live, and I wake up every day thanking God. I wish you all the very best of luck and remind you that if you don't win today, remember to keep trying and keep praying because one day your name will rise to the top and you too will be a winner in The Game Of Life."
The crowd cheered.
More talking heads followed. Darren, Christen, and Ash all espoused in the same vein. They were chosen to play, and they all seemed to undergo some kind of spiritual and physical awakening; all seemed to win their dream lives. Brendon looked around as the crowd of poor, homeless and hungry lapped up every syrupy word the winners spoke.
Lucky Lenny was back on screen again.
"Are we ready to see who are going to be tonight's winners' darlings?" The vibe in the room started to shift as excitement began to build. "Let's see who will win tonight's Game!" Lenny then spun round and pressed a giant red button that was sitting to his right. The room went dark and numbers began to cycle quickly on the screen, each one a different colour and font.
It filled the room with a kaleidoscope of lights that reflected in the dirty faces of the avid audience. Some kind of building circus music played in the background. When it reached a crescendo it abruptly tailed off.
"Ask for more! Number thirty-four!" exclaimed Lenny with gusto.
"It's me!" yelled a voice from the back.
Suddenly a spotlight switched on and swung to the back of the room looking to locate the voice. A tall thin man was holding up his marker high above his head. In his other hand a small grey-furred dog. He had a tattered, long green overcoat on and seemingly nothing underneath.
"Come on down, Sir! Your life is about to change!" yelled Lenny, adding a staccato to the last few words.
Wild, celebratory music played over the sound system.
The man squeezed past the others on his row, a woman said something to him, and after a brief exchange he handed her the dog. The spotlight followed him as he made his way down the aisle to the front. Lenny did his best to whip the crowd up into a show of appreciation, but the response was lacklustre at best. The vibe of the room was one of disappointment rather than joy.
When he got to the front the man turned right and made his way to a set of stairs at the edge of the stage. At the top of them stood one of the blue-jacketed directing staff who was clapping as she watched him make his way. She took his marker and then opened the bright blue door for him. He looked back and waved to the crowd and then stepped through the threshold.
"Well there you go folks! There goes a little lovely whose life is about to change, but worry not my wondering wonderlings there are four more places tonight. That means it could still be you!" Lenny added a few vocal flourishes at the end to inject some energy back into the room and, from what Brendon could see, it worked.
The lottery continued.
Four more people were called up and all made their way through the door just like the first winner. In all, two men and three women went through. All mid-twenties to mid-fifties, all seemingly homeless, but all clearly very happy to have been picked.
The lights flashed on and Lenny squared onto the screen.
Lenny's grin widened as he addressed the crowd directly.
"Well, my lovelies, that's all the fun and excitement for tonight!" Flamboyant gestures abounded. "I don't know about you but I'm all hot and flustered from all that excitement, I'm going to need to lie down in a darkened room and have someone fan my sweaty little head! Bye, bye!" Then with a cheeky little finger roll wave, the screen went black and started to rise. Brendon watched it disappear into a recess in the ceiling.
The crowd stirred, some headed to pick up the last few cookies at the table. Someone was unplugging the coffee urn and slinging it under their arm. Brendon looked round and couldn't see any blue jackets. They'd just vanished. The dejected crowd started to file out. Brendon looked up at the drone and pointed to the door the winners went through. He could see Naomi turning the little machine to see what he was pointing out.
The room had thinned enough for Brendon to move.
He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. He knew it would be Naomi sending him messages about how bad an idea this was. He needed to understand how all this tracked back to Grace. Had she been one of these winners? Is this how she ended up in The Sanctuary? Maybe she was somewhere in the building, just feet away somewhere.
He slowly ascended the eight steps on the edge of the stage to the winners door. He could sense the drone shadowing him above but not dropping to follow. The door looked brand new. It was the same blue colour as the jackets. Brendon carefully turned the handle and pushed it slowly open.
Inside was a long corridor.
Beige paint peeled off the walls and the floor was bare boards. Strip lights swung gently, illuminating the passageway with flickering light. Doorways lined the right-hand wall. Some had doors, some didn't. Some had lights on inside, others didn't. Brendon figured they must have been offices or storerooms back in the day. He eased the door shut behind his back so it didn't make a sound and left it open ajar.
It was quiet.
He started to tread softly down the corridor. He peeked stealthily into each room as he passed. At the end of the corridor, he could see a door with a push bar across the middle of it. It must have been an exit to the outside. Suddenly someone walked out of the room at the far end, heading for it.
Brendon quickly ducked into one of the dark empty rooms. The person had walked out fast with their back to him, so he was confident they hadn't seen him. He stood there in the dark a few seconds, listening for any sign that he'd been detected.
None came.
He slowly poked his head around the doorway.
The room at the end was the only one lit.
His adrenaline was high, but he started to edge along the wall towards the light. He couldn't hear anything that suggested anyone was there, but he wasn't sure.
He was starting to sweat.
He was a far cry from his cool, calm, and calculated avatar from earlier. He sharply snapped his head around the corner, glimpsing into the room. It seemed clear. He stepped around.
The room looked like a rudimentary nurse's station. An examination table against the back wall. A small desk and office chair, a set of floor scales, and an eye chart on the wall. There was no paperwork or anything other than a digital blood pressure monitor on the desk. Brendon scanned around, absorbing the room. In the corner was an instrument trolley with a fresh piece of towel on it and nothing else.
Suddenly voices outside.
Brendon bolted instinctively.
He ran down the corridor back to the door from which he'd entered, trying to make his footsteps as light as possible. He managed to just make it through, as the door in the back swung open. The sudden draft shut his door behind him with a loud bang. Not waiting to find out if anyone had seen him, he sprinted up the side of the theatre like a frightened rabbit and out through the front door of the building.
It was still raining.