The Zero Game

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Behind her, the door to the cloakroom opened, and the Senator from Illinois lumbered inside, heading straight for the old wooden phone booths that lined the narrow L-shaped room. As always, Senators were tucked into the booths, returning calls and gabbing away. The Senator stepped into the first booth on the right and slid the door shut.

“By the way, Viv,” Blutter added as his phone started to ring, “don’t let Senator Spooky creep you out. It’s not you – it’s him. Whenever he prepares for a Floor speech, he stares through everyone like they’re a ghost.”

“No, I know… I just-”

“It’s not you. It’s him,” Blutter reiterated. “You hear me? It’s him.”

Lifting her chin, Viv pushed her shoulders back and buttoned her blue suit jacket. Her ID dangled from around her neck. She headed for the door as quickly as she could. Blutter went back to the phones. There was no way she’d let him see the smile on her face.

S-414-B… S-414-C… S-414-D… Viv counted to herself as she followed the room numbers on the fourth floor of the Capitol. She hadn’t realized that Senator Kalo had offices up here, but that was typical Capitol – everyone scattered all over the place. Remembering the story about the female staffer giving new meaning to the term briefing the Senator, she stopped at the heavy oak door and gave it a sharp knock. Truth be told, she knew the story was bullshit – just something Blutter told them so they’d watch their manners. Indeed, a few staffers may’ve had some fun, but from the looks of the rest… the stiffness she saw in the halls… none of these people were having sex.

Waiting for a response, she was surprised not to find one.

She knocked again. Just to be safe.

Again, no answer.

With a twist, she opened the door a tiny crack. “Senate page,” she announced. “Anyone here…?”

Still no response. Viv didn’t think twice. If a staffer was tracking down the Senator for a photo op, they’d want her just to take a seat by the desk. But as Viv entered the dark office, there wasn’t an open seat. In fact, there wasn’t even a desk. Instead, at the center of the room were two large mahogany tables, pushed together so they could hold the dozen or so outdated computer monitors piled on top. On her left, three red leather rolling chairs were stacked one on top of the other, while on her right, empty file cabinets, storage boxes, a few spare computer keyboards, and even an upside-down refrigerator were shoved together in a makeshift pile. The walls were bare. No pictures… no diplomas… nothing personal. This wasn’t an office. More like storage. From the layer of dust that covered the half-lowered blinds, the place was clearly deserted. In fact, the only evidence that anyone had even been in there was the handwritten note on the edge of the conference table:

Please pick up the phone

At the bottom of the note was an arrow pointing to the right, where a telephone sat atop one of the open file cabinets.

Confused, Viv raised an eyebrow, unsure why someone would-

The phone rang, and Viv jumped back, bumping into the closed door. She searched around the room. No one there. The phone rang again.

Viv reread the note and cautiously stepped forward. “H-Hello,” she answered, picking up the receiver.

“Hello, who’s this?” a warm voice countered.

“Who’s this?” Viv countered.

“Andy,” the man answered. “Andy Defresne. Now, who’s this?”

“Viv.”

“Viv who?”

“Viv Parker,” she replied. “Is this… Is this some kinda joke? Thomas, is that you?”

There was a click. The phone went dead.

Viv hung up the receiver and looked up to check the corners of the ceiling. She saw something like this on Bloopers and Practical Jokes once. But there wasn’t a camera anywhere. And the longer Viv stood there, the more she knew she’d already been there too long.

Spinning around, she rushed to the door and clutched the doorknob in her sweat-covered hand. She fought to turn it, but it wouldn’t budge – like someone was holding it from the outside. She gave it one last twist, and it finally gave. But as the door swung open, she stopped in her tracks. A tall man with messy black hair was blocking her way.

“Viv, huh?” the man asked.

“I swear, you touch me, and I’ll scream so loud, it’ll make your nuts shatter like crystal… uh… like crystal balls.”

“Relax,” Harris said as he stepped inside. “All I want to do is talk to you.”

17

I SEARCH FOR A NAMETAG on the girl’s lapel. It’s not there. Reading my reaction, she’s obviously scared. I don’t blame her. After what happened with Matthew, she should be.

“Stay back,” she threatens. Stepping backward into the room, she takes a deep breath, winding up to scream. I raise my hand to cut her off; then, out of nowhere, she tilts her head to the side.

“What a minute…” she says, raising an eyebrow. “I know you.”

I match her raised eyebrow with one of my own. “Excuse me?”