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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

The music died and the rats retreated. They simply stopped and turned away as if they hadn't been moving on Vanessa and the others like road-starved diners on an all-meat buffet. The idea of ravenous rats controlled by a vaporwave track was like something out of a dream or a game. The illogic of it all aside, Vanessa was glad to be alive. Her body knew it too—her heartbeat slowed back to normal, and her skin cooled. The only sounds now were the ragged pants and sighs of everyone catching their breath. The stink of the rodents lingered, but that also seemed to fade as the last of the animals clambered out the windows and the crack in the door.

Vanessa had managed to live her twenty-three years with minimal life-threatening moments. She'd been in one car accident as a little girl that she didn't remember. On nights out, there were occasional men who didn't want to take no for an answer, but she had effectively given them all the slip. Once, while hiking with her dad and brothers, they'd gotten lost in the Big Bend wilderness. That time, she'd been worried about bears or mountain lions, but they didn't cross paths with any serious predators. 

Because of this, her response to the most recent (and most overt) brush with danger surprised her. She thought she would've panicked. She thought she'd be panicking now. Maybe it would hit her later. Or maybe this was just how she dealt with crises. 

Beside her, Kayson was breathing heavy but he wore a hard expression. His steely gaze was locked on the door, as if making sure rats weren't coming back. A single bead of sweat glistened on his temple. His jaw muscles were tightly clenched. Something told her he'd been in life-and-death confrontations before, but probably never anything like this.

"Nice going," she said, "with the claw machine, I mean."

He didn't even look her way. "Thanks," he said. "Good thinking with the stuffed rat."

Werth jumped down from the counter and peered out the window. 

"I don't believe it," he said. "They're really just leaving, going back to where they came from."

"I wonder how they were trained to respond to the song like that," the professor said. "Even when they were clearly hungry."

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Karen said.

"Puke out there if you're gonna," Werth said.

"It was an expression, Officer," she said, then turned her dagger-sharp stare toward Kayson. "You're welcome for the bag, young man. Wanna hand it back over?"

"Dunno why you'd want it," he said. "Ugly-ass thing. Besides, someone cleaned it out. Ain't nothing but change left in your wallet."

"What?" she said, incredulous. He tossed the bag at her feet before she could snatch it. All the change came spilling out. "You little bastard."

He snickered as she bent to pick up.

"Really, Kayson," Vanessa said. "Dick move."

He threw up his arms. "What?"

Vanessa bent to help Karen collect the spilled change. 

"Oh, forget it," Karen said. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with all those coins anyway."

"You never know," Vanessa said, taking a handful and proffering it to Karen. "We might need them later."

"How do you mean?" Karen absently took back the coins and put them in the wallet's zipper compartment.

"It's just a feeling I have." She didn't want to say it yet, but she thought whoever had brought them here had left Karen's purse, specifically the change, for a reason. She took another handful and gave it to Karen. "Just hold onto it for now, okay?" Karen took the change, nodded. "So, what's your name anyway?" Vanessa asked.

"It's Wendy," she said and gave Vanessa a small smile. "You remind me of my daughter."

"Thank you."

"So, um," the loudly dressed woman said, "does anyone have a guess about what's going on?" Everyone looked at her. "What? We're all thinking it."

Werth scanned his companions with a glare, which seemed like his favorite expression. He settled on Kayson and his face twitched, then he looked at Vanessa and softened, but only slightly.

"My guess is some kind of government operation," he said.

"That can't be it," the professor said. "I refuse to believe something like this would happen under the current administration."

"Then, I think you need a history lesson," Werth said. He nodded at the loudly dressed woman. "What about you, K-Pop? What's your theory?"

"I'm Vietnamese, asshole," she said. "And my name's Hannah."

"Whatever, just trying to have a little fun."

"Not sure anyone's in the mood," Vanessa said.

Werth scoffed and then locked eyes with Kayson. Kayson gave him a shit-eating grin.

"I think it's some alien shit, bro," Kayson said.

"Of course you'd say that," Werth said with a groan of disgust.

"Wait, do you two know each other?" Vanessa asked.

"Shit, not anymore," Kayson said.

"Oh, we're doing this now?" Werth said.

"Not unless you wanna throw hands."

"Okay, definitely no one needs to be throwing hands," Vanessa said. "I just thought it might be important somehow."

"How?" Werth asked.

"I'm not sure yet." She nodded at the professor. "What's your name? We got everyone else's."

"Whitmore. Cullen Whitmore."

"Are you a professor or do you just dress that way?" Werth asked.

"I'm a writer," Cullen said, then lowered his gaze.

"Oh, I thought I recognized you," Wendy said. "You write under another name too, right? J.T. something."

"Vincent," he said. "J.T. Vincent. It's to separate readers of my literary fiction from …"

"Broooo," Kayson said. "No one cares."

"I agree with you for once," Werth said.

Cullen's cheeks flushed pink.

"Well, maybe it doesn't matter," Vanessa said, "but maybe it does."

"You know something, don't you?" Werth said. It didn't sound like a question. "Something you're not telling us."

"I don't know anything," Vanessa said. "I just have a theory. Well, at this point, just a hypothesis."

Everyone was staring at her now. She thought she would freeze up because public speaking was never her style, but again, she surprised herself.

"I think we were chosen for a reason, the six of us specifically."

"Why?" Werth asked, his tone acidic.

"Yeah, why?" Hannah asked. "We didn't do anything."

"I don't think it has to do with something we did." Vanessa shook her head. "Who we know maybe. Or maybe our skills."

"Yes, that could be important," Cullen said. "I'm a writer. Werth is a policeman. What about the rest of you? What do you all do for a living?"

"I'm a real estate agent," Wendy said. "I show houses in North Austin."

"What about you, Kayson?" Cullen asked.

"Nothing legal, dawg," he said. Werth cast him yet another glare.

"And you?" Cullen asked Hannah.

"I'm an HR specialist at a corporate startup," she said. "Really, I'm no one."

The comment both hurt Vanessa and endeared the other woman to her. It seemed so contrary to the loud outfit. She cast Hannah a small, but noticed, smile, which Hannah returned.

"And you, Vanessa?" Cullen asked.

Vanessa sniffed. "I work at fucking Starbucks," she said. "I'm no one."

"That's all?" Cullen's frown deepened. "You seem like you might have higher aspirations, a good head on your shoulders."

"Sometimes I act in my friend's dumb movies," she said in a way that made it sound like a question.

"Damn," Cullen said.

She knew how he felt. It seemed like they were onto something, but none of it appeared to add up. Their occupations didn't seem to matter at all to their current situation. Then, she remembered the coins.

"I have another thought," she said. Again, everyone's attention was on her. Again, she spoke her mind. "The coins in Wendy's purse. They helped us, and I wonder if they were left there for a reason."

"Like a clue or something to help us," Cullen said.

"Help us what?" Werth asked.

They all exchanged glances. Finally, they came back to Vanessa, looking to her for answers. She met Cullen's gaze, and he nodded, knowing what she knew but wanting her to go ahead.

"Help us win the game," she said.