The Game of Life

Chapter 4

Ariel woke up to the sight of a water damaged roof in a small room. Her eyes flew open. Where is she? How long was she out? She checked her phone. It was 6:00 in the morning and she could hear angry murmurs from the wall across from her. Small amounts of light faded through the flimsy blinds. Ariel sat upright on the edge of her bed, her hair matted and a mess. She had a sore neck from whatever this "bed" was made of. She felt a tiny bit of anger and resentment as Nate had left her in this room, which could now be noted was a motel room. At least she assumed as the table, lamp, and AC unit were all branded with the same phrase, "Property of Motel. Do NOT Destroy." She looked back to where she had lain and found a crumpled gas station receipt. Apparently Nate had decided to stop for gas and felt tired. Well that's what she pieced together as the note literally said in bad handwriting, "Got gas. Tired. Motel. Cheap. Sorry." A small heart was drawn next to Nate's name on the bottom.

Ariel nodded to herself, "You couldn't have found any nicer motels?" She reluctantly pushed the thought out of her mind as she took her phone off the bed with the crinkled note. She got up and undid the lock on the door. Ariel stepped out into the brisk morning. 3 more days. She tripped over the lip in the door frame. Her body lay on the ground for a moment on the disgusting concrete. She had scraped her hand but nothing major. She sat up and decided that she just needed to get to Nate and yell at him.

You couldn't miss the van. It was the only beat up car around. The rest were extremely nice cars and she wondered how these people had those if they lived in a place like this. Drug dealers? Thieves? Or maybe it was a nice large church group for some conference. With their own nice cars and their...Yeah. It was drug dealers. The fact did not worry her as she did not live in the best neighborhood either. It wasn't Sin City but it sure wasn't heaven. She walked to the van to find Nate before a loud slam was heard behind her. Someone was awake and boy oh boy were they not happy.

"Hey girlie!"

The voice was deep. It sounded like if Satan had a brother and he sang bass in hells choir. Ariel stopped before being able to open up her door. She couldn't move. She always was able to avoid things like this. Not being out too late or going down sketchy alleyways. But now as death stood behind her, she didn't know what else she could have done. She turned around slowly and observed him. He was way taller than her. He looked to be in his late 30's. He had tattoos all over his body. His chains explained his life story in a way that judging a book was possible. She was wrong though as he reached out to her with something in his palm.

"You dropped this." He held out her phone. Ariel patted her pockets and realized it really was hers.

"Thank you mister," Ariel let the words hang to catch his name.

"Damien. Damien Scott. I believe you were in the room next to mine."

Ariel was still in shock as she remembered the grumbling from the other room.

"Yeah, well it's been nice to meet you Damien and thanks again for my phone, I hadn't realized I dropped it."

"You know. It's a funny thing," said Damien with slight disbelief in his deep voice "You rented the last open room last night. Don't question where we get the info. Anyway my crew saw Tony's men lurking around here last night." Damien looked uneasy for once which peaked Ariels interest.

"Who's Tony?"

Damien lowered his head as to be more quiet but his voice still resonated in Ariel's chest, "He's not one of ours. That's all you need to know."

"Alright." Ariel had begun to feel uneasy again about this supposed Tony figure.

"Anyhow girl, I just wanted to extend my hand of gratitude towards you and your friend in the van. They would have listened in on....private information if you hadn't accidentally saved our tails. And for that, you give my people a call and we owe you one."

Damien reached into his jacket pocket and Ariel flinched. Realizing it wasn't a gun but a slip of paper, she relaxed her muscles. Damien held out the paper to Ariel. It was a napkin from a restaurant with barbecue sauce stained on the corner. On it was a phone number.

"Thank you Mr. Scott but I don't think we'll be needing...." Ariel looked up to be talking to air.

"Hey you're up." Nate's voice scared her and she whipped around to him.

Nate's voice had a slow speed as he had just woken up. "Who were you talking to out here?"

"Damien."

"Who's that?"

"I don't know."

Nate seemed confused but also too tired to be worried, "Alright." He paused and listened to the breeze. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah I just need to get the key to the room. I left it inside."

"Okay, I'll start the car."

Ariel moved around the van to head back to the room. She walked halfway there before realizing all the cars had gone and the only thing left in the whole place was the rust bucket van. Amazed and terrified she walked towards her room with a quicker pace. She got to the door. It was slightly ajar. She pushed it open to see the keys on the bed. She scooped them up and locked the door. She made her way over to the office area and found an old man sleeping with a newspaper on his chest. She sighed and dinged the bell on the counter. The small thing made a loud ding but the old man still lay there sleeping away. His breathing long and peaceful. The newspaper lifting and falling. She no longer cared to disturb the sleeping man and she laid the keys down on the counter. She walked outside.

Ariel in disbelief began to converse with herself, "Okay then. They all just left. All instantly and silently. Nothing weird about that. Totally."

She reached into her pocket to feel for the napkin. It was still there. Feeling more assured about Damien not being a figment of her imagination, she walked toward the van with high hopes for the day.