Alexander Plansky - Arcadia

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Write me off as crazy–”

“Des, please,” Jenna snapped.

“There was nothing on that screen,” Zhao said. “We all saw it, Jenna, Katelyn, the guard, the technician, and myself.”

Katelyn nodded sternly beside him, still clutching her folder.

“When was the last time you had a journalist out here?” Lewis said.

“We’ve never had one before,” Katelyn interjected.

“Really? Because my pal Jake Miller was here last weekend. And then he died not too far from here, in an accident on US-93.”

“I’ve never met anyone by that name,” Zhao said. “And I know nothing of any accident. I’m sorry for what happened to your friend, but I don’t know what kind of connection you’re trying to make by saying he came here. What, that I murdered him?” He laughed, clearly trying to relieve some of his tension.

Lewis didn’t let up. “Miller was on to all of you. He came out here to investigate the connection with the game. And he found out something, something about what you do to people here that makes the players go crazy.”

“This is all ludicrous,” Zhao said to Jenna. “I will not tolerate accusations like this.”

“People who’ve visited this place from all over the country have gone home and lost their minds. Some, like Dale from Texas, kill only themselves because they can’t take the dreams and hallucinations anymore. But others, like Charlie Wong, completely lose their grip on reality and butcher the fucking FedEx guy when they knock on their door.”

“Please, stop ,” Jenna pleaded.

He continued. “And I bet if I looked up the name of every gamer who snapped in that goddamn Atlantic article and cross-referenced them with your directory of previous visits, I’d find every single one of them.”

“What are you…?” Zhao just looked confused now.

Jenna got up and started dragging Lewis toward the front entrance. “I am so sorry.”

“Not at all,” Zhao said calmly. “I’m just sad your first visit to Arcadia had to end like this. I hope before this incident, you both had a wonderful time here.”

“We did, thank you,” she said.

Then they were outside and into the brightness of the midday sun. It took a moment for Lewis’s eyes to adjust. He glanced back at the automatic glass doors as they slid closed and looked back up at the giant text on the side of the building displaying the place’s name.

“Well that could have gone better,” she said beside him.

He turned to her. “There’s something–”

“What the fuck do you think is happening here?!” Jenna blurted, exasperated. “You sound like a goddamn conspiracy theorist!” She walked over to the car door and threw it open.

“Jenna, please listen to me–”

“Get in the fucking car.” She looked angry as hell.

Lewis obeyed and climbed into the passenger seat. Jenna got in, closed the door, and started the vehicle. “If you really thought this was some covert government research site, why the hell would you tell them that you’re onto their master plan right to their face?”

“I wanted to gauge his reaction.”

“So you’re not sure yet.”

“Well, I don’t have any concrete evidence right now, but everything points–”

“Points to what?” she said, putting the car into reverse and backing out of the space. Lewis noticed that there didn’t seem to be any more cars here than when they’d first arrived.

“Points to this being the epicenter of the gamer-related violence in the last six months.”

“Those aren’t connected and you know it.”

“It was the only thing vaguely related to Rogue Horizon in the area.” He had to admit, it was a pretty flimsy connection. “But as soon as I started looking into this place, I knew there was something fishy about it. Where are all the guests? What kind of venture capitalist funds a theme park in the middle of the desert, and then doesn’t advertise it? This whole thing has to be a front for something .”

“And if it really was, we’d be dead by now. They wouldn’t have just let us walk out of there.”

“No, I knew they wouldn’t kill us. The gamers always get released back into the world so they can… go home…”

The realization just dawned on him. What if they’d already mucked around with his mind during the gameplay, placed subliminal images in it that only he could register because he’d played Rogue Horizon ? Maybe that was the second half of the brainwashing. He glanced over at Jenna. Maybe she’d had it too and was just better at hiding it. What if they were both ticking time bombs, and Zhao had just sent them back out into the world, ready to sit back and watch the next results of his twisted experiment roll in on the news? If they didn’t kill anybody until they got back to L.A., there might even be a new article in the Atlantic or some other journal criticizing the City of Angels’ gaming scene for producing murderers the likes of Charlie, Jenna, and himself.

He shook his head. Maybe he really was just drawing conclusions from a pile of unrelated cards. Arcadia could be a front for something else, or it could just be a really poorly thought out business strategy. Heaven knew there were plenty of those in the world. And maybe Rogue Horizon was just a game that really got under some people’s skin. Who knew what Charlie had been going through before he’d played it? He’d gone to Vegas, but that didn’t mean he’d made the nearly hour-and-a-half trek out to this desolate patch of land off Old Hwy 93.

Still, Lewis couldn’t help but feel that he was missing one definitive piece of proof that would tie it all together.

They were now turning back out onto the stretch of desert road. Jenna gunned the engine and they sped southwest, the Arcadia compound quickly diminishing in size in the rear-view mirror.

“Even if you are right,” she said, “it’ll just have to be one mystery we never know the answer to.”

After watching the car disappear off into the distance, Victor Zhao stepped back inside through the automatic glass doors and brought his cell phone to his ear. It rang several times, then finally clicked as the person on the other end answered.

Zhao spoke first. “We have a problem.”

“Ithink I’m becoming a paranoid lunatic,” Lewis announced to no one in particular.

“Happens to the best of us,” the bartender said, handing him his third margarita.

He sipped it and looked around. It was roughly 2PM and he’d made up his mind that he was going to get drunk. It was past 5 o’clock on the East Coast, and that was good enough for him. Jenna sat beside him, nursing her second G&T. They’d had some fun times getting wasted together. This would not be one of them.

Lewis glanced around the Dolphin Bar. It was located in the Mirage’s pool area, surrounded by lush tropical foliage and the sounds of running water. This, combined with the alcohol and beautiful weather, was almost enough to make him feel better.

However, he couldn’t get thoughts of Zhao out of his mind. He knew the accusations had been impulsive, but he’d really wanted to see if he could get a reaction out of him. And with the mention of Rogue Horizon, he was sure he had. As a journalist, Lewis could sense when people knew more than they were letting on. And Zhao seemed to know a lot more, restraining himself as best he could. The clenched fists had been a real giveaway. Anyone else would’ve simply had Lewis escorted out by security at that point. But Zhao let him talk and probably would’ve let him keep talking had Jenna not dragged him out.