The sky was overcast and a fine mist was settling around me. Streetlights popped on in the gloom. A block away, headlights glowed golden on cars cruising Hamilton. I'd exited the emergency entrance on Bert Avenue to make the call. I'd walked toward the back of the building, going just far enough to avoid activity. I had my back pressed to the brick wall of the hospital while I talked, trying to stay dry, trying to keep my hair from frizzing. Used to be there were houses across the street, but several years ago the houses were torn down and a parking lot was created.
A kid walked out of emergency and turned toward me, moving with his head down against the light rain, hugging a small gym bag to his chest. From the brief look I'd caught of his face I'd put him somewhere in his late teens to early twenties. Not really a kid, I guess, but he dressed like a kid. Low-slung baggy homeboy pants, gym shoes, short-sleeved shirt unbuttoned over a black T-shirt, spikey green hair. Probably had multiple piercings and tattoos, but I couldn't see any from this distance.
I dropped my phone into my purse and headed back to emergency. The green-haired kid got a couple feet from me and staggered a little, bumping against me. He picked his head up, looked me in the eye, and raised a gun level with my nose.
'Turn and walk,' he said, 'I'm really good with this gun. I'll shoot you dead if you make a single false move.'
Usually there were people hanging out around emergency, but the rain had driven everyone inside. The street was deserted. Not even car traffic. 'Is this about money?' I asked him. 'Just take my bag.'
'Hah, you wish, sweetie pie. This is The Game and I'm the winner. Just me and the Web Master left. I get to go on to the next game after I do you.'
I turned and gaped at him.
'What?' he asked. 'You didn't know it was me? You didn't think the hunter had green hair?'
'Who are you?'
He jumped and slashed at the air. 'I'm the Fisher Cat.'
I'd never heard of a fisher cat. I was pretty sure we didn't have any in Trenton. 'Is that a real animal or did you make it up?'
'It's a member of the weasel family. It moves along real quiet. You hardly know it's around. It's real sneaky. And it's ferocious.'
'Have you ever seen one?'
'Well, no, not exactly. You know, like, in a book.'
'If I was going to name myself after an animal I'd want to see it first.'
'That's because you have no imagination. Gamers have imagination. We create stuff.'
'What stuff?'
'The Game, stupid. And then we transcend the game. The game becomes the reality. Is that total whack, or what?'
'Yeah, total whack.' It had been a long day with a lot of adrenaline expended. For that matter, it had been a long week that had brought a lot of terror and death. This kid was right about one thing. I hadn't expected the bearer of that terror and death to have green hair and a tongue stud. 'So this is a game,' I said. 'With a Web Master?'
'Pretty cool, huh?'
'Did you pull wings off butterflies when you were a kid?'
'No. I was a total wimp kid. I was a wimp until I found the Web Master and got into The Game.'
'Are there rules to The Game or do you just go around randomly killing people?'
'The Web Master runs The Game. He's the one who decides who can play. Not everyone gets to play, you know. There are always five players and a prize. This time you're the prize. I know you've been getting messages from the Web Master. That's part of his job. He's the one who keeps the rabbit running while the players are in the elimination stage. This is my second game. The first game was a couple years ago. I was last man standing on that one, too. I got to hunt a cop that time.'
'What's with the flowers?'
'That's The Game designation. If you play the Web Master's game, you're a Red Roses and White Carnations player.'
I couldn't believe I was standing on the sidewalk, talking to this kid who looked more like the Green Goblin than a Fisher Cat and was holding me at gunpoint… and not a car drove by. No one strolled through the emergency room doors, looking for a place to sneak a smoke. No emergency vehicles barreled down the street with lights flashing.
'You look kind of young to be killing people,' I said. As if age mattered when you were insane.
'Yeah, so far as I know, I'm the youngest player. I was seventeen when I killed Lillian Paressi. I got so excited I did the deed on her after she was dead.'
'That's sick and disgusting.'
Fisher Cat giggled. 'Maybe I'll do it on you, too, after I blow your head apart. I should have done it on Singh. The Web Master sent me to Vegas to get Singh. Really nice of you to find the little jerk for us. You don't just walk out on a Game. The Game is everything.'
I thought I was sounding pretty comfortable. My voice wasn't wobbling. My breathing appeared normal. I was asking questions. Deep inside there was bone-jarring fear. This was a seriously sick person. He had a gun. And it was going to ruin his night if he didn't kill me.
'The Fisher Cat has a real good sense of smell,' he said. 'I can smell your fear.'
