CHAPTER THREE

"The third guest has arrived," Bevins announced in the smooth, pleasant accent which didn't nearly match those cold snake eyes.

A young man who couldn't have been any older than nineteen stepped into the room, seeming a bit nervous and agitated. His eyes darted from the floor to Bevin's face and back again. His hands were both fidgeting and pulling at each other. He looked to be quite neurotic - either that or autistic. Iris instantly felt protective of him.. and also a bit disgusted.

"There are place cards," Bevin said patiently, gesturing towards the table where Iris and Dustin had ceased laughing.

They were gazing curiously at this young man who timidly circled the table before settling into his assigned seat, on Iris' right. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and didn't feel at all like laughing any more, maybe not ever again. That was where Cal had sat.. on her right. Poor, brave Cal. He had tried to save them all.

Where's Cal? she heard herself whispering.. heard the others replying.. They shot him. As if he had disappeared into thin air while she had been gone.

"….you okay, miss?"

Iris blinked and looked around, startled out of her haunted memories. Dustin was smirking and pointing to her right. She turned and there was the third guest looking at her from behind thick eyeglasses. His.. striking blue eyes were magnified by the lens' and seemed to float behind them in a milky lake. Iris thought to herself that Zach's eyes might honestly have been rather attractive otherwise.

"Oh," she said, a bit taken aback by how close he was – and his breath. He'd had spaghetti for dinner last night apparently… "No, I'm-I'm fine, thank you.. Just bad memories of this place. This room.."

The young man stared down at his folded, occasionally fidgety hands on the tabletop, and was silent for a time.

"I'm Zach.. Zach Maron," he said at last. "You mentioned that you've been here before? Can you tell me what this.. competition entails, please? I think I might be having second thoughts about entering it after all.."

Iris bit her bottom lip. Now it was her turn to stare down at her hands folded neatly on the tabletop in front of her.

"If.. you don't absolutely need the help they're offering," she said, choosing every word very carefully, "then, when they offer to let you leave before the game officially begins… Accept their offer. That's all you need to know."

She looked down the table and her eyes and tone softened almost imperceptibly. Dustin blinked back at her.

"Accept their offer," she said again.

The other five guests trickled in a bit more quickly now, two arriving at nearly the same time in fact. In order of arrival they were:

#1: A balding older man who reluctantly introduced himself as Gene. He was seated on Dustin's left.

#2: A young Hispanic woman named Donna who sat down at the end of the table across from Dustin. She smacked the chewing gum in her mouth, letting her tongue linger past her lips for a moment to lick at them suggestively.

(Dustin just raised an eyebrow at her before glancing at Iris, who smiled).

#3: A young Hispanic man named Henry who was apparently Donna's brother. Even Gene - sitting across from Henry now - looked up in interest when that tidbit came up in conversation. It turned out that the siblings both just needed help for different reasons.

("We both just hope we can help each other out, no matter which one of us wins," Henry said optimistically. To his immediate right Donna was rolling her eyes).

#4: A completely bald, muscular man calling himself Tony. Iris could tell immediately that he was an unusual, eccentric character. For one thing he was dressed in what Iris could only think of as.. an Elvis costume. Luckily he did not try to strike up conversation about (possibly?) being an Elvis impersonator and what that job entailed. He sat at one end of the table, across from Zach.

(He turned to Donna, winked at her and she looked away, muttering "Not a chance John Wayne Gacy…")

#5: A very lithe and thin woman in her thirties who spoke with a Russian accent, of all things. Her name was Natascha and Iris was glad she hadn't asked aloud if the eighth and final guest was Russian.

(Natascha politely but firmly corrected Tony who commented "Some vodka and a hotel room, Saturday night, on me? I like Russian girls…" as Natascha sat down on his left. "I'm Austrian," she said and smiled at Zach who offered her a lighter for the cigarette between her pert, rosebud-red lips.)

Shep Lambrick strolled into the room and behind him limped his son Julian. Iris glared at him with wide eyes and Julian stared back with fury in his own eyes. You fucking bitch, he mouthed at her when he was sure his dad wasn't looking.

"Due to the short notice of this particular playing of our game, I must congratulate all of you alternates. This is the first time we're actually bringing in those we initially reject, because we think so highly of our defending champion."

He smiled down the table at Iris who fought the urge to vomit, her heart racing and her stomach churning. Outwardly she managed to appear calm and nodded back at Lambrick. Dustin stared at her as if he was seeing her for the first time, a puzzled smile fading from his lips. He must have thought that I was joking somehow about having playing the game before, Iris realized.. or that I was flirting..

Lambrick was back to his speech, meanwhile. He explained the rules of the game, how one could be eliminated, what one could stand to win.

"Also due to the short notice of this particular playing of our game.. We've had to skip dinner and bring you all straight to the room in which our game will take place. We will also get started nearly right away… only pausing so that I can ask you whether you want to step out that door right now. If you would like to leave you may do so now.. but only now."

Iris met Dustin's eyes and nodded. Go, she mouthed, Please!