D. MacHale - The Quillan Games

The answer to that last question came a moment later, and it hurt.

I felt a sharp, stinging pain across my back and shoulders. A second later I was spun around like an unraveling yo-yo. The force came so fast and so hard I lost my balance and crashed down on my shoulder. I popped right up and spun around to see who had attacked me.

I was face-to-face with a dado. He stood with his legs apart over one of the up-facing spotlights. The bright light shining up on him from below made him look even more imposing. He was well over six feet tall, with wide shoulders and strong arms that looked ready to burst the seams of his sleeves. He wore the same dark uniform as the other dados I’d seen, but he didn’t wear a helmet or a gun. His weapon was a six-foot-long curved stick with a ball on the end. I guessed that was the “Hook.” It looked semirigid, like it was made out of soft plastic. It wasn’t as long as a whip, but he used it like one. I knew it had to be what he had slashed me with. It wasn’t a lethal weapon, but if he knew how to use it, he could control me.

I had no doubt he knew how to use it.

More frightening than anything was his face. It was like a mask, with a big sharp jaw and eyes that had no life. He was bald, too. It was at that moment that I finally remembered where I had seen dados before. I’m not talking about the arcade, or the city street. I mean in the flume. Remember the floating images I described? One of those images was of tall muscular guys running. Dados. They looked imposing then, and even more so in person.

The number blipped down: 64… 63… 62…

I jumped for the revolving door I had just come through. I didn’t want to play this game, no matter what it was. I hit the door hard. It didn’t budge. Why was I not surprised? If I wanted to get out of there, I was going to have to get past Franken-dado and run to the far side. Without a second more of hesitation, I sprinted for the rectangle of light. I figured if I was fast enough, I might catch this goon by surprise and beat him there before he hooked me again.

I was wrong. No sooner did I take off running, than the number blipped down to 60. The number over the door flashed red and a harsh horn sounded. That wasn’t the problem. That was the warning. When the horn sounded, several silver cylinders the size of telephone poles drove down from the ceiling, slamming into the floor like demonic pile drivers. I barely missed getting crushed by one, as they hammered the floor so hard the vibration almost knocked me off my feet.

Yikes! This room was a minefield! The cylinders quickly retracted into the ceiling. I had no doubt they’d be back. Before I had the chance to think, I felt the stinging slap of the hook around my ankles. The dado pulled and I was on my butt, feet in the air. What kind of game was this? I didn’t know the rules or have any way to defend myself. It was clear to me that my job was to get through that door on the far side before the number ran down, and before I got crushed by a giant

cylinder. It was the dado’s job to stop me… 57… 56… 55…

I rolled to the side wall. I wasn’t about to fight the dado. Though he had a weapon and outweighed me by a good fifty pounds, I was way more worried about the crushing cylinders… 54… 53… 52…

I rolled until I hit the wall, hoping that the cylinders were more toward the center of the room. My plan was to hug the wall as I made my way to the far side.

Bad plan… 51… 50…

The number flashed red, the horn sounded. But the cylinders didn’t come crashing down. Instead another set shot up from the floor. I was directly on top of one. The cylinder lifted me into the air! I had to quickly roll off or it would have driven me through the ceiling. I hit the floor awkwardly and was lucky not to have broken or twisted anything. The silver cylinders continued up until they slammed into the ceiling, then quickly retracted. On the floor the dado was waiting for me. He whipped the hook around my neck and pulled hard, choking me. I pulled back, but that only made the hook pull tighter. In desperation I spun in the opposite direction and unwound myself. The cylinders had all retracted into the floor, and I lay there, gasping for breath… 44… 43… 42…

The cylinders came out every ten seconds. I looked around for the dado but didn’t see him. After every attack he’d hide back in the shadows and give the crushing cylinders their turn to hurt me. He’d played this game before. I hadn’t…

41… 40…

The horn sounded as the cylinders from the ceiling crashed down again. I couldn’t tell exactly where they were, so I had no way of knowing where to jump to get out of the way. A descending cylinder grazed my shoulder. Too close. They slammed into the floor, the building shook, and they retracted. I looked to the far doorway to see I hadn’t gotten much closer. I had ten blips of the clock before the next cylinders would pile into the room. I figured if I sprinted for it, I’d make it.

The dado must have sensed this. I wondered if he had done this enough times to know what to expect from his victims. I had barely started to run when I felt the sting of his hook around my waist. He didn’t pull me down this time, all he did was yank me a few feet and keep me there. I was still upright. What was he doing? I pulled away, but he held me tight…

34… 33… 32… 31… 30…

Blaring horn. The cylinders came down. I was directly under one. The dado had positioned me to be crushed. I had nowhere to go but directly at the dado. I leaped at him and felt the falling cylinder brush my back. I hit the big guy square in the chest. He barely moved. It was like running into a tree. The guy lifted me up like a doll and heaved me across the floor. I slammed into one of the cylinders-they hadn’t retracted into the ceiling yet-spun around, but kept my balance and had the presence of mind to keep running toward the door of light…

27… 26… 25…

The horn blared. What was this? Only five seconds apart now? As the numbers got closer to zero, the pace increased. Worse, as the cylinders shot up toward the ceiling from below, I dodged one, only to see that the overhead cylinders were shooting down at the same time. They were now coming from both directions. My options just got cut in half. One wrong step and I’d be cut in half too. I looked up and down as the cylinders retracted, and learned something valuable. They were each right next to one of the spotlights. I guess I didn’t realize this at so fast. But now that I understood the program, it was obvious. I knew where not to be when the cylinders released. I had to position myself directly in between the lights. Good plan, except that the dado had other plans.

Ooof! I had been standing in one spot too long. I was a target. The dado threw a cross-body block at me. I felt like I’d gotten hit with a bus. The shot knocked me off my feet. I rolled… 22… 21… horn.

The cylinders shot up and down. I was lying right over one. It hit me in the side, lifting me up. I rolled off and quickly scrambled to get between the lights, as all around me the cylinders blasted the floor and the ceiling. I was trapped in some infernal piston engine. There was no time for finesse; I had to get to the far side. I didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if I let the number roll down to zero. Before the cylinders had fully retracted, I started running again.

Horn.

No! It wasn’t even five seconds this time. The cylinders shot up and down. It was random now too. The bottom cylinders charged up and a second later the top cylinders hammered down. I was twenty yards from the rectangle of light, but it felt like a mile. I turned back to see where the dado was. He was coming for me, cautiously but steadily. He seemed to know the pattern of the cylinders. He’d jump forward and stand still as cylinders shot up and down around him. Then jump forward again and wait as the cylinders shot by. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he wasn’t in any hurry… 18… 17… 16…