The Odds - Jeff Strand Page 0,63

it’s been to have both of you in this game,” he said. “I mean that sincerely. We’ve had a couple of duds, and a couple of players we had to eliminate prematurely—you were there for one of those, right Ethan?—and so I appreciate what you’ve both given to the game. It will give me no pleasure to watch one of you die an agonizing death.”

He lifted his hand just enough to peek underneath.

“The coin has made its decision,” he said. “And before I announce it, I just want to give credit where it’s due to the coin designers throughout history who’ve made it possible to break ties in this manner. Let’s give it up for the coin designers, ladies and gentlemen!”

Everybody stood there, unsure whether he genuinely intended for them to applaud.

“I’m not kidding,” said The Claw Man. “A round of applause for the coin designers of the world. Let’s do this!”

Everybody around Ethan applauded, but he couldn’t bring himself to join in the levity. He still hadn’t figured out what he’d do if the coin toss didn’t work out in his favor. He might as well fight as hard as he possibly could, since there wasn’t much they could do to him that was worse than being boiled alive.

“I have bad news for one of you,” The Claw Man said. He looked at Kenny. “Kenny, I hate to break this to you...but you have to play the next round.”

He removed his hand, showing that the coin had landed on tails.

Two of the men, presumably anticipating that Ethan would try to make a run for it, grabbed him before he could move.

“If he struggles too much, pull his arm back until it snaps,” said The Claw Man. “He’ll stop.”

Everybody followed as the men dragged Ethan over to the shed.

22

Rick had absolutely no idea what to do.

If he just let them dunk Ethan in the barrel of boiling oil, he’d be next. But what the hell could he do? Try to gently dissuade them from doing this? Turn into an action movie hero and perform a daring rescue, even though he was far outnumbered and everybody else was armed? What were the odds of success? A million to fucking one?

He followed the group to the shed.

Nobody was actually pointing a gun at him, but The Claw Man gave him a look that made it clear that he knew Rick might try something. And he might. A bullet to the skull would be better than the fate planned for him.

He watched helplessly as they snapped the handcuffs on Ethan.

“He’s your player,” said The Claw Man. “You do the honors.”

Rick walked over and turned the crank. He tried to block out the sounds of Ethan’s protests as the chain went taut and lifted him into the air. He turned another crank, which positioned Ethan directly above the barrel.

“Lisa, you can go inside,” said The Claw Man. “We’re still monitoring you, so don’t try anything stupid. But as the first place finisher, you don’t have to watch.”

Lisa nodded and quickly left.

“Kenny, you’re not so lucky. But you’re luckier than Ethan. Ethan, you’re leaving behind a wife and two sons, but we’re not complete monsters.” He took out a cell phone. “You get to record a goodbye video. Sixty seconds to say whatever you want to your family. I’ll zoom in close so they don’t see exactly what’s going to happen to you.”

The goodbye video. Rick had forgotten about that. It seemed really entertaining while they were discussing the various ways the game would play out. It was simultaneously kind-hearted, because it would give the family some closure, and mean-spirited, because it dragged out the victim’s awareness of his nightmarish end. In the meeting room, eating doughnuts and sipping expensive coffee, it had seemed like it would be amusing.

Rick envisioned a scenario where he mightily kicked over the barrel of oil, surprising the onlookers so much that they didn’t get out of the way in time. As the boiling oil rushed over their feet, they screamed out in pain and fell forward, sizzling their hands as well. The ones who remained standing would charge forward, but Ethan would swing forward and kick them, knocking them unconscious. Over in fifteen seconds.

Of course, it would take several people to push over that barrel, and they’d get severely burned doing it. This derring-do escape was entirely in Rick’s imagination.

“Fuck you,” Ethan told The Claw Man.

“That’s not a very heartwarming message to your family.”

“I’m not playing your game anymore.”

“This