Numbers Game, Jacob Long [best adventure books to read .txt] 📗
- Author: Jacob Long
Book online «Numbers Game, Jacob Long [best adventure books to read .txt] 📗». Author Jacob Long
/> He moved down the hallway, regaining his composure and surveying everything he passed. The very first hallway was already filled with neat items. There were vases on small tables and landscape art on the walls. The carpet was a beautiful velvet red and the walls were nearly the same blood color. Reed moved along this hall in utter silence. Even his footsteps were completely inaudible.
At the end of the hall Reed peeked around the corner, immediately spotting a large man coming up the hall toward him. He jumped back behind the wall and pressed himself against it. The guard was very large and heavy. His footsteps were loud and Reed could hear them getting closer. The guard was wearing a very dapper beige suit instead of some security uniform. Reed mused at the thought of the owner of this mansion being affiliated with the mafia. His last name was Moltini.
Reed peeked back around the corner to observe what the guard would do next. Somehow he was more relaxed then, as if the confirmation that there was something to be worried about made the worrying less unbearable. The guard scanned the halls in the dark with sweeping eyes as he moved. He came to an adjoining hall several yards before the exit and turned into it. Reed released a bunch of pent-up air he had in his lungs and gazed up and down the hall again. It was empty, so he moved on, quickly checking the hall the guard walked down to see if he was still there. He wasn’t, so Reed could move further into the mansion.
The manor looked pretty much the same no matter where Reed went. Everywhere there was art and expensive looking furniture, but nothing Reed could take with him to sell. The place was like a maze. He expected to find maybe a large ballroom or foyer but hadn’t come across any such place. One part of the house looked very much like a middle class home stuffed inside an upper class residence. Reed passed through a small dining area and then went into a likewise miniscule kitchen. He couldn’t shake the sensation that he was being watched. Every once in a while the floor would creak but it would feel like the creak wasn’t exactly in time with his own footsteps.
While passing through the kitchen Reed finally stopped, listening for the slightest noise. There was no noise. What did happen was much worse.
Suddenly something hard was pressed into the back of Reed’s head. His heart slammed itself against his chest, but only once, and then it returned to normal operation.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The voice was that of a girl, she possessed just the faintest hint of a Brooklyn accent. Reed didn’t dare turn around and look.
Reed searched hard for something intelligent to say. “Uhh, this is the Moltini house isn’t it? I was hired to test your security, remember?”
Reed thought he heard a light chuckle barely escape the lips of his acquaintance, then she said, “Yeah, sure.”
Without any real warning Reed felt a delicate hand come to rest on his upper back. Moments passed in silence. He wondered what the strange woman was up to.
“Ya know, I’ve done this to people a lot;” the girl said, “put guns to their heads. I like putting my hand over their heart to see just how fast it’s going. Most people are scared out of their minds. The heart is beating so fast that I can almost dance to the beat…strange that yours…is so calm.”
Reed didn’t respond, he didn’t know how to.
“Turn around, slowly.”
Reed obeyed, gazing upon the face of his captor. She was very young, looking to be about his age. Her hair was a dusky red color, probably dyed a cherry red and washed out. Her face wasn’t extraordinarily beautiful but had an interesting, almost uncanny quality. It possessed a hungry look and hard, piercing, green eyes. She was wearing a plush pink robe and holding a .357 Colt Python six-shooter barely an inch from Reed’s nose. In her other hand she held a half-glass of milk, strangely enough.
“How can you be so confident? Think you’re pretty good, huh?” the girl asked. “Got all the angles figured out and can take whatever you want. I don’t think you’re so good. I think you’re just a cowardly little boy who’s not really all that smart. But maybe you are. We’ll see. Will you play a game with me? I won’t tell you what the game is until after you agree but if you win I’ll let you walk out of here with whatever you want. Got it?”
Reed didn’t really have to think about it. “No. No way.”
“I could just kill you.”
Reed was silent for a time. “Fine.”
A sick grin surfaced on the girl’s face. “Good. Sit down in that chair on the other side of the table.”
Reed turned around. There was a small white table with two chairs in the middle of the kitchen. He moved around the table, pulled out his designated chair, and sat down. The girl set her milk down, pulled the chair on the other side out, and took her seat, keeping the gun trained on Reed the whole time.
Once she was seated, the girl opened the cylinder on her pistol and kicked all of the bullets out onto the table. From the pile, she selected one bullet, held it up for Reed to see, and put it back in. She spun the cylinder as hard as she could, let it spin for a couple of seconds, and then knocked it back into place with a flick of her wrist. Reed wanted to jump from the chair and sprint from the room right there.
“The game is Russian Roulette,” the girl said. “Every time you exhibit your cowardice or stupidity I will pull the trigger. If you exhibit even one instance of bravery or intelligence, I’ll let you go. You win. Got it?”
Reed nodded numbly.
“Alright,” the girl started. “What you have to think about now is how you like your odds, and try to be honest, okay?”
Reed thought about that for a second. How did he like his odds? With one bullet in a six-shooter the odds of a bullet firing from the barrel and making a sizeable hole in his head were about…sixteen point six percent. It sounded like good odds math-wise; but all it takes is one.
“First question; what are you here for?”
“I told you already--”
Snick!
The girl pulled the trigger and Reed flinched at the sound of the hammer clicking against the gun, instantly ending his sentence.
“I told you to be honest with me,” the girl said. “You were afraid to tell the truth based solely on who you were talking to. This is the fear of a cop. They have to deal with it all the time. I know you’re a thief”
Reed took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
“Okay guy. Let me see your wallet.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Take out your wallet and let me see it.”
Reed leaned over on his chair and pulled out his wallet.
The girl sitting across from him rolled her eyes, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
Snick!
Reed flinched so badly he dropped his wallet on the floor.
“You actually brought your wallet with you on a robbery? What if you were caught? Then they’d know exactly who you are and even where you live! Look at you! You’re not even wearing gloves!” The girl raised the gun and pulled the trigger again. This time Reed instinctively ducked.
Snick!
The girl was shaking her head. “Sit up!”
Reed looked at her with scornful eyes and did as he was told.
“Now give me the wallet!
Reed picked the wallet up and handed it to her. She opened it with one hand and peered inside.
“Richard Dean Newton. Harlem? Huh, you’re tougher than I thought; white kid in Harlem…Alright, next question, Richard Dean Newton. It’s a hypothetical. You’re faced by a crazy person--”
Reed rolled his eyes at the irony.
“—this person tells you that you get to choose the way you die. If you tell the truth, you are strangled, and if you lie, he chops your head off. What do you say? You have unlimited time to think about it.”
Reed took his time. His eyes were fixed on the girl’s face as he thought. Finally he said, “I would say, I’m lying to you.”
Snick!
Reed flinched at the noise again, this time muttering, “Jesus!”
“What the hell is the matter with you?” The girl asked. “I gave you all the time in the world to think about it. You could’ve come up with a better answer; you could’ve even waited until my dad woke up! He probably wouldn’t let me kill you, but no, you lose again!”
“Are you sure?” Reed shot back. “Think about it.”
“There’s nothing more to think about! You said you’re lying to me!” At that the girl fell silent. Her face was a mask of confusion for a time. Finally she started musing out loud. “But if you really are lying to me…you’re telling the truth; which means you can’t be lying, but that makes your original statement a lie all over again. But…”
The girl chuckled suddenly. “Ha ha! You really got me there, didn’t you!” Carelessly, the girl put the gun up to her head and pulled the trigger.
Snick!
“Ha ha!”
Reed sighed in what sounded like relief. A small smile spread across his face and he started chuckling too.
The girl stopped. “Why are you laughing?”
Reed indicated the gun with his hand. “I thought there was real bullet in that gun!”
The girl cocked her head to the side, squinting at him. “What makes you think it’s not?”
“Well you couldn’t really pull the trigger on yourself if it were!”
The girl smiled wryly and moved the gun to point at the glass of milk sitting on the table. She pulled the trigger and a loud BANG! immediately erupted from the barrel. The glass exploded into a thousand tiny pieces, splattering milk everywhere. This time Reed completely jumped from the chair, knocking it to the floor.
There was silence for a time, in which Reed and the crazy lady just stared at each other. Suddenly the sound of rushing footsteps filled the hall. In the next instant guards were filing in room, all decked out in dapper suits. They took a second to assess the situation, then made for Reed.
“No! Don’t touch him!” the girl shouted.
All of the guards froze in place, one already reaching for Reed. The girl’s sudden cry possessed an inexplicable desperation that held them with authority.
“Don’t lay a single finger on him,” the girl ordered. She held her stare on Reed. “Get out of here. Take anything you can carry with you and don’t come back in. Caleb? Make sure he finds the door when he’s done.”
“Yes, mistress,” one of the guards said.
The guards made a path so Reed could leave, and he did. On his way out, Reed took a painting, a Faberge Coronation Egg that was sitting in a display case, and the crazy girl’s Colt Python. They were to be fenced through a pawn shop where Reed knew someone who could take care of it. The guard followed Reed wherever he went and showed him to the front gate when Reed said he was done. Reed walked back up the road in the dark and stuffed the objects in the trunk of his stolen vehicle. He dropped the items off with his contact at the pawn shop and returned the car back where he found it.
Last challenge of the night: fall asleep. After Reed snuck back into his house, took his clothes
At the end of the hall Reed peeked around the corner, immediately spotting a large man coming up the hall toward him. He jumped back behind the wall and pressed himself against it. The guard was very large and heavy. His footsteps were loud and Reed could hear them getting closer. The guard was wearing a very dapper beige suit instead of some security uniform. Reed mused at the thought of the owner of this mansion being affiliated with the mafia. His last name was Moltini.
Reed peeked back around the corner to observe what the guard would do next. Somehow he was more relaxed then, as if the confirmation that there was something to be worried about made the worrying less unbearable. The guard scanned the halls in the dark with sweeping eyes as he moved. He came to an adjoining hall several yards before the exit and turned into it. Reed released a bunch of pent-up air he had in his lungs and gazed up and down the hall again. It was empty, so he moved on, quickly checking the hall the guard walked down to see if he was still there. He wasn’t, so Reed could move further into the mansion.
The manor looked pretty much the same no matter where Reed went. Everywhere there was art and expensive looking furniture, but nothing Reed could take with him to sell. The place was like a maze. He expected to find maybe a large ballroom or foyer but hadn’t come across any such place. One part of the house looked very much like a middle class home stuffed inside an upper class residence. Reed passed through a small dining area and then went into a likewise miniscule kitchen. He couldn’t shake the sensation that he was being watched. Every once in a while the floor would creak but it would feel like the creak wasn’t exactly in time with his own footsteps.
While passing through the kitchen Reed finally stopped, listening for the slightest noise. There was no noise. What did happen was much worse.
Suddenly something hard was pressed into the back of Reed’s head. His heart slammed itself against his chest, but only once, and then it returned to normal operation.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The voice was that of a girl, she possessed just the faintest hint of a Brooklyn accent. Reed didn’t dare turn around and look.
Reed searched hard for something intelligent to say. “Uhh, this is the Moltini house isn’t it? I was hired to test your security, remember?”
Reed thought he heard a light chuckle barely escape the lips of his acquaintance, then she said, “Yeah, sure.”
Without any real warning Reed felt a delicate hand come to rest on his upper back. Moments passed in silence. He wondered what the strange woman was up to.
“Ya know, I’ve done this to people a lot;” the girl said, “put guns to their heads. I like putting my hand over their heart to see just how fast it’s going. Most people are scared out of their minds. The heart is beating so fast that I can almost dance to the beat…strange that yours…is so calm.”
Reed didn’t respond, he didn’t know how to.
“Turn around, slowly.”
Reed obeyed, gazing upon the face of his captor. She was very young, looking to be about his age. Her hair was a dusky red color, probably dyed a cherry red and washed out. Her face wasn’t extraordinarily beautiful but had an interesting, almost uncanny quality. It possessed a hungry look and hard, piercing, green eyes. She was wearing a plush pink robe and holding a .357 Colt Python six-shooter barely an inch from Reed’s nose. In her other hand she held a half-glass of milk, strangely enough.
“How can you be so confident? Think you’re pretty good, huh?” the girl asked. “Got all the angles figured out and can take whatever you want. I don’t think you’re so good. I think you’re just a cowardly little boy who’s not really all that smart. But maybe you are. We’ll see. Will you play a game with me? I won’t tell you what the game is until after you agree but if you win I’ll let you walk out of here with whatever you want. Got it?”
Reed didn’t really have to think about it. “No. No way.”
“I could just kill you.”
Reed was silent for a time. “Fine.”
A sick grin surfaced on the girl’s face. “Good. Sit down in that chair on the other side of the table.”
Reed turned around. There was a small white table with two chairs in the middle of the kitchen. He moved around the table, pulled out his designated chair, and sat down. The girl set her milk down, pulled the chair on the other side out, and took her seat, keeping the gun trained on Reed the whole time.
Once she was seated, the girl opened the cylinder on her pistol and kicked all of the bullets out onto the table. From the pile, she selected one bullet, held it up for Reed to see, and put it back in. She spun the cylinder as hard as she could, let it spin for a couple of seconds, and then knocked it back into place with a flick of her wrist. Reed wanted to jump from the chair and sprint from the room right there.
“The game is Russian Roulette,” the girl said. “Every time you exhibit your cowardice or stupidity I will pull the trigger. If you exhibit even one instance of bravery or intelligence, I’ll let you go. You win. Got it?”
Reed nodded numbly.
“Alright,” the girl started. “What you have to think about now is how you like your odds, and try to be honest, okay?”
Reed thought about that for a second. How did he like his odds? With one bullet in a six-shooter the odds of a bullet firing from the barrel and making a sizeable hole in his head were about…sixteen point six percent. It sounded like good odds math-wise; but all it takes is one.
“First question; what are you here for?”
“I told you already--”
Snick!
The girl pulled the trigger and Reed flinched at the sound of the hammer clicking against the gun, instantly ending his sentence.
“I told you to be honest with me,” the girl said. “You were afraid to tell the truth based solely on who you were talking to. This is the fear of a cop. They have to deal with it all the time. I know you’re a thief”
Reed took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
“Okay guy. Let me see your wallet.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Take out your wallet and let me see it.”
Reed leaned over on his chair and pulled out his wallet.
The girl sitting across from him rolled her eyes, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
Snick!
Reed flinched so badly he dropped his wallet on the floor.
“You actually brought your wallet with you on a robbery? What if you were caught? Then they’d know exactly who you are and even where you live! Look at you! You’re not even wearing gloves!” The girl raised the gun and pulled the trigger again. This time Reed instinctively ducked.
Snick!
The girl was shaking her head. “Sit up!”
Reed looked at her with scornful eyes and did as he was told.
“Now give me the wallet!
Reed picked the wallet up and handed it to her. She opened it with one hand and peered inside.
“Richard Dean Newton. Harlem? Huh, you’re tougher than I thought; white kid in Harlem…Alright, next question, Richard Dean Newton. It’s a hypothetical. You’re faced by a crazy person--”
Reed rolled his eyes at the irony.
“—this person tells you that you get to choose the way you die. If you tell the truth, you are strangled, and if you lie, he chops your head off. What do you say? You have unlimited time to think about it.”
Reed took his time. His eyes were fixed on the girl’s face as he thought. Finally he said, “I would say, I’m lying to you.”
Snick!
Reed flinched at the noise again, this time muttering, “Jesus!”
“What the hell is the matter with you?” The girl asked. “I gave you all the time in the world to think about it. You could’ve come up with a better answer; you could’ve even waited until my dad woke up! He probably wouldn’t let me kill you, but no, you lose again!”
“Are you sure?” Reed shot back. “Think about it.”
“There’s nothing more to think about! You said you’re lying to me!” At that the girl fell silent. Her face was a mask of confusion for a time. Finally she started musing out loud. “But if you really are lying to me…you’re telling the truth; which means you can’t be lying, but that makes your original statement a lie all over again. But…”
The girl chuckled suddenly. “Ha ha! You really got me there, didn’t you!” Carelessly, the girl put the gun up to her head and pulled the trigger.
Snick!
“Ha ha!”
Reed sighed in what sounded like relief. A small smile spread across his face and he started chuckling too.
The girl stopped. “Why are you laughing?”
Reed indicated the gun with his hand. “I thought there was real bullet in that gun!”
The girl cocked her head to the side, squinting at him. “What makes you think it’s not?”
“Well you couldn’t really pull the trigger on yourself if it were!”
The girl smiled wryly and moved the gun to point at the glass of milk sitting on the table. She pulled the trigger and a loud BANG! immediately erupted from the barrel. The glass exploded into a thousand tiny pieces, splattering milk everywhere. This time Reed completely jumped from the chair, knocking it to the floor.
There was silence for a time, in which Reed and the crazy lady just stared at each other. Suddenly the sound of rushing footsteps filled the hall. In the next instant guards were filing in room, all decked out in dapper suits. They took a second to assess the situation, then made for Reed.
“No! Don’t touch him!” the girl shouted.
All of the guards froze in place, one already reaching for Reed. The girl’s sudden cry possessed an inexplicable desperation that held them with authority.
“Don’t lay a single finger on him,” the girl ordered. She held her stare on Reed. “Get out of here. Take anything you can carry with you and don’t come back in. Caleb? Make sure he finds the door when he’s done.”
“Yes, mistress,” one of the guards said.
The guards made a path so Reed could leave, and he did. On his way out, Reed took a painting, a Faberge Coronation Egg that was sitting in a display case, and the crazy girl’s Colt Python. They were to be fenced through a pawn shop where Reed knew someone who could take care of it. The guard followed Reed wherever he went and showed him to the front gate when Reed said he was done. Reed walked back up the road in the dark and stuffed the objects in the trunk of his stolen vehicle. He dropped the items off with his contact at the pawn shop and returned the car back where he found it.
Last challenge of the night: fall asleep. After Reed snuck back into his house, took his clothes
Free e-book «Numbers Game, Jacob Long [best adventure books to read .txt] 📗» - read online now
Similar e-books:
Comments (0)