Confessions of a Corpse

Chapter 5 - Steak, galleries, and baseballs

I sighed slightly and opened my bag, pulling out a rather well-done steak. I gave it a cursory sniff and groaned.

"Eugh. How long has this been in here?"

I stood up and turned to walk down the path, but was stopped by someone shouting.

"Hey!"

Startled, I whipped around, only to come face-to-face with a security guard.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked. I fumbled for a reply, holding the steak out like it was a weapon, and feeling my hands grow clammy with sweat. Son of a bitch, was I really going to get shot again?! Once was enough, dammit! He looked at the steak and immediately raised his weapon.

"Oh, no! Not the old steak trick. I'm not falling for that twice," he said, slowly stepping closer to me. I stepped back to counter him, fear flooding my bones as I lowered the steak. "Yeah, put the steak down. I'm not even gonna look at the steak." As the guard spoke, I noticed the potted plant beside him start moving. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow incredulously. This was Mark's plan? Becoming a bush?

"I'm looking at you right in the eyes." The guard's gaze flickered from my face to the steak, and he sighed, shrugging a bit. "I looked at the steak." Suddenly, Mark lept from the plant and tackled the guard in a backward chokehold.

"Shh...!" He shushed the struggling guard until he went limp, then let him go. As I turned to put the steak away, I jumped in surprise as I realized that not only had my surroundings changed, but Mark was right in front of me. We had entered a large gallery of sorts.

"Nicely done. All according to plan. And speaking of plan..." he said, crouching down next to one of the many artifacts sealed in a glass container, pulling the plan out of his bag and looking at it. One look at the thing made my heart stop for a split second. I felt like I had seen it before. From where I didn't know. Everything was familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time.

"Looks like we are, uh, eh, yeah. We're moving on to phase two." He folded the plan up and stuffed it back in his bag. "Are you ready?" I nodded a bit.

"On my go." He looked down at his watch. "Go!"

While I chose the sensible, sneaky option of skulking around like a seasoned thief, Mark, being as dramatic as he could, rolled around the other side of the display case, stood up, and did cartwheels across the room. We rounded the next display case and Mark pointed at the entrance into the room.

"Behind you. Behind you."

I rolled to the next display case and plastered myself against it, keeping myself as still and small as possible as a guard entered the room.

"He tracks the intruder," the guard said, almost like he was roleplaying a scenario he made up, "quiet as a ninja suppressing a fart in church." He let out two short laughs as he padded across the room. "There she is. Three-legged woman, got you now. Oh, this? It's just my gun. You're safe with me, ma'am." I glanced down as I noticed something at my feet. A baseball.

"How convenient..." I mused softly, grabbing the ball and throwing it as hard as I could. It sailed through the air and bounced through the same entrance the guard had walked through. Speaking of the guard, he let out a panicked scream and drew his gun.

"I mean, who's there?" He called, trying to regain his composure. As the sound of the ball bouncing began to fade, he ran back the way he came, calling after it.

"Come back!"