I didn't have long to think, for after my brief meditation on my next move, Carly sauntered over beside me, letting her arm hang over my shoulder. Surprisingly, she was close to my height. I had never noticed that about her before.
She punched me playfully on the arm as the person who had played before me handed me a stick. "Go get 'em, slugger."
"I'm not in a baseball game," I retorted under my breath, shaking her off. I bent down, aimed and shot.
Kyle, the guy from last night, was my opponent this time. He stood across the pool table; his arms crossed loosely about his chest and watched me carefully. I really didn't care what the hell he was doing. Just give me my money, people, and let me leave.
"Hey," Carly said to me with a nod of her heads towards Kyle, "he looks a lot like you."
"What?" I asked, for I hadn't been listening to a word that she was saying. All she really was was a mosquito in my ear. Hopefully, one that could be slapped away quickly enough. But, humans are not mosquitoes, and it usually takes a little bit more than a slap to get them to leave.
"Kyle? Is that his name?"
"Yeah."
"Well, he looks a lot like you," she repeated.
"Bull-shit," I hissed and shot the ball again, landing three striped balls in the pockets. Really, it was rather ridiculous that another person could look like me. Manticore had created my DNA specially for me…and my hundred other clones. But, forgetting the clone part, I had to wonder if it was at all possible for at least my parents to bear some resemblance to me. Not that it mattered anyhow, I didn't care.
Despite the fact I was a genetically engineered human freak of nature, I still had to have had parents. With a dismissive shake of my head, I tried to obliterate the thought completely as they had been for the entire part of my life.
The game ended rather swiftly, to my surprise. But, then, I hadn't really been paying attention for most of the game-off in my own little world, trying to figure out my screwed up genetics.
Not surprisingly though, I had won, which caused Carly to cheer with overly enthusiastic claps and whistles. I turned away from the pool table as another pair of teams began to threaten each other. It wasn't my time to go ahead and whip everybody's asses. I would come back to retrieve victory later, not now.
As I sat down at the table, with Carly following right behind, I noticed there was another person sitting at the table. They wore a floppy hat, covering most of their face, but I knew they were still able to see me.
I instantly prickled, my sixth senses firing rapid messages at me that something bad was about to happen. Surprisingly, Carly even seemed to notice and leaned in closer to me. Her silky lips barely grazed the skin of my ear as she whispered, "Who is that person?"
Slowly, I turned to look at her, the shadows of the dimly lit bar clouding her face. "I don't know," I admitted. "Look, I'm going to get something to drink-you want anything?" I asked her, looking for both an excuse to get away from her and the mysterious person.
She smiled happily, pleased that I actually seemed to be showing some interest in her. "I'll have a martini with a twist."
I rose swiftly to my feet and made my way over to the actual bar area and threw one leg over the stool. Louie, wiping off the counter, took my orders eagerly and headed back to get the drinks.
As I waited for him, I noticed that the mysterious visitor had made their way over to a nearby barstool. I glanced at them, then back at the rows of glittering glass bottles.
"Zack," someone said, and this time I knew it wasn't Carly. Instinctively, I turned in the direction of the voice to see the shadow person coming towards me. Slowly, I rose to my feet, realizing that my best defense was the intimidation of my height.
"Who are you?" I asked through gritted teeth.
The person chuckled, indicating that it was a female beneath the hat mask. "You disappoint me, really, you do," they told me.
"Who the hell are you?" I hissed.
Slowly, the person lifted up the corner of their hat, and I felt my insides freeze as I realized what I was dealing with.
Brin.
The messenger of the devil himself.