James Axler – Freedom Lost

“No refunds,” Templeton said icily, wrapping his hand around the gold.

“What you think.” Jak allowed himself to smile a feral smile, his lips peeling back and revealing his sharp canine teeth.

The owner frowned. “Seventeen. My final offer, otherwise we can get as nasty as you want to be, son.”

Jak turned off the evil disconcerting grin. “Deal.”

“Excellent!” Templeton crowed, and thumbed the coin changer at his side rapidly, spitting out the rest of the needed tokens to activate the vid games.

Jak and Dean left they way they came and entered the arena of noise and light.

“Didn’t know you knew how to haggle, Jak,” Dean said.

“Sure. What first?”

Dean looked around carefully. “We wait.”

Jak shot him a look of sheer exasperation.

“Hang with me, Jak. If we play some of these games nobody else is on right now, we’re wasting tokens. I got a theory. See, they’re punk games. Shit vids that regulars stay away from. I think the most popular games are the ones you have to wait a turn on.”

Jak nodded. “Makes sense. Which one you want wait for?”

“That red-and-black game,” Dean said firmly. “The one called Mortal Kombat.” Brack and Dex were playing MK. They had their backs to the two newest members of the arcade as they busily worked the joysticks and buttons to the game Dean had pointed out.

“One of assholes from earlier messing with?” Jak asked.

“Uh huh.”

The albino grinned. “All right.”

Dean and Jak stepped past Mortal Kombat and stood behind another game, but that one hadn’t even earned a passing glance from any of the young people in the busy arcade. The game was called Space Invaders, and even to Jak’s untrained eye the unit’s graphics and controls looked primitive.

“Rather wait for something good than rush into a bad game.” Dean said.

“Uh-huh,” Jak replied, tuning out the racket of the many games and voices as best he could, while thinking to himself that Doc’s verbal jousting might not be so bad after all.

Chapter Eighteen

Ryan hadn’t been flat on his back more than five minutes when another knock came from the flimsy hotel door.

“Want me to get it, lover?” Krysty said sleepily.

“No, I’m on it.”

Ryan swung open the door, expecting to see Dean and Jak.

“Now what?” he said, his voice annoyed. Before him stood a freshly showered and shaved Doc.

“Ah, Ryan, might you be interested in joining me for a nightcap to celebrate today’s victory of man over machine?”

“No, thanks, Doc. I’m whipped. Just want to get some sleep.”

Doc assumed an understanding look as he pushed away a stray white hair that had broken loose from the rest he’d combed back from his high forehead. “I can certainly share agreement with your exhaustion, friend Cawdor. Indeed, you have earned your rest.”

“Great. Well, good night,” Ryan said, turning his back and moving to step into the hotel room.

“Ah, you do know young Dean and Jak both have ventured out?” Doc asked in a conspiratorial tone.

“They dropped by,” Ryan replied, keeping his back to the old man, mentally willing him to leave.

Doc wasn’t picking up on the mental vibrations. “I was convinced you were aware of their absence, but wanted to let you know, all the same. Growing boys are growing boys. Well, Jak really isn’t a boy anymore, but you gather my meaning.”

“Right,” Ryan replied tightly.

“Well, if needed, I will be in that smoky little pub located on the upper level of this mammoth monstrosity, next to the front entrance of the lobby to our humble abode. I think a stiff drink of good whiskey might settle my sleeplessness.”

“Right. Good night, Doc.”

Ryan closed the door. “Next time, I swear, I’m not telling anyone where we’re staying.”

“That’s okay,” Krysty told him. “Why don’t you come back to bed and we’ll see what comes up next?”

RYAN WOKE UP in the dark bathed in a fine sheen of sweat. His recently reinjured shoulder throbbed dully in time with the pounding in his head.

“You felt it, too, lover?” Krysty’s voice came from next to him in the bed.