Outlive (The Baggers Trilogy, #1) (10 page)

             
And did she really have to kick me twice?
Baggs thought, rubbing his ribs and opening the glass door.

             
He stepped inside onto cool tile floor and shut the door behind him. He had entered a small, dirty lobby with ugly green walls. The room looked like it had been furnished by people’s unwanted household items. There was a couch leaking stuffing onto the floor, a coffee table with crayon markings covering it, and a lamp with no lampshade; the bare bulb burned so bright that it hurt Baggs’s eyes when he looked directly at it. There was a television hanging from the wall with a deep crack in it that was turned off.

             
Baggs considered how the Media Tower had made this special little foyer into which the Outlive contestants could enter. He guessed that the main entryway was much nicer, with brand new furniture.
But they see no point in trying to impress people like me, so they furnished the place as cheaply as possible.

             
There was a receptionist desk behind glass reinforced with chain-link metal, but it was empty. The lights were on in the room behind the glass and Baggs stepped to the side and peeked in the office beyond, but didn’t see anyone working there.

             
It was odd, but he felt like he was in trouble. When Baggs was nine, he had worked at a family owned grocery store in his neighborhood. The storeowners had been opposed to robotics taking so many jobs, and so they hired actual humans to do everything from unloading trucks, to stocking shelves, to being cashiers for customers. Baggs’s father had grown up with the owner, and so Baggs was able to work there from a young age.

             
The dilapidated look of the entryway reminded Baggs of Lois’s office; Lois was the manager—a seventeen-year-old nephew of the owner who made a habit of ‘jokingly’ holding a razor blade to Baggs’s throat and then cackling at the face Baggs made.

When Baggs was nine, he
had been stocking shelves one day when Lois had grabbed his shoulder and said, “Stop what you’re doing; I need to talk to you for a second. Go to my office, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Baggs had stood in the office waiting for Lois to enter, his mouth dry and feeling like he might vomit. Nine-year-old Baggs had been stealing chocolate covered peanuts from the store for two weeks when Lois asked to see him, and he was sure that this was why he
had been called into the office. It turned out, Baggs had been wrong—Lois had wanted Baggs to help him ask his girlfriend to a dance; Lois apparently thought that having a nine year old ask for him would be cute and show that he was sensitive. Baggs had known if he refused, he would have been punched in the arm, or slapped in the face, but he was just happy that his theft hadn’t been caught.

             
Baggs took a deep breath and turned around, looking out the window at the London morning.
Where am I about to travel? Where do contestants initially go? Is this really a good idea? Tessa doesn’t know where I am. The girls didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

             
He took two steps towards the door and looked at the streets as an outsider; he no longer belonged on the London streets. He realized that after he signed up for Outlive, he wouldn’t be free to go where he pleased. He would be monitored at all times until he was placed in the Colosseum in front of all those people. The only way out would be to kill.

             
Footfalls echoed down the hall from behind the receptionist desk, and Baggs turned around. A police officer and a receptionist came into Baggs’s field of view. This police officer was male, and just like the female officer that had kicked Baggs in the chest, the man’s eyes were hidden by reflective sunglasses, even though the foyer was dimly lit. The receptionist was smiling at the cop, and chided him playfully: “You need to get back to work,” she teased.

             
He pinched her side and walked out a door into the entryway with Baggs. The receptionist took her seat behind the desk and looked at Baggs expectantly, her eyes shifting to the officer every so often in a flirtatious manner.

             
Baggs swallowed. He felt numb. He turned around and looked back out the window.
Am I really going to sign my life away? Am I really doing this?

             
“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked. She was smacking on gum, her eyes flicking between the police officer and Baggs.

             
Baggs thought of his empty bank account. He thought of Tessa, Olive, Maggie, and the McKesson family. He walked over to the desk. The words came out quickly; it was like ripping a band-aid off; it was like jumping into a cold pool. “I need to sign up for Outlive,” he said. His words sounded strange to him, as though someone else spoke them far away in an echoing cave.

             
She didn’t verbally respond, but tapped her end of the glass to draw Baggs’s attention to a posted sign. Baggs stepped leaned over and read it twice, not able to comprehend what he was reading.

This season of Outlive is full of applicants. Come back in August to sign up for next season.

             
August?
Baggs thought.
That’s four months away! That’s further away than the birthday party! And we’re completely out of money.

             
The receptionist squinted at Baggs with her green eyes. They looked like Maggie’s. “It says come back in August. We’re booked for this season.”

             
Baggs shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

             
The officer spoke from behind him, his voice loud with authority: “The sign says that they don’t need anyone else to compete in Outlive. You need to get lost, buddy. Come back in a few months and maybe they can take you then.”

             
Baggs shook his head again. “No. I heard yesterday on a commercial that you were still taking applicants. I need to sign up.”

             
The receptionist continued to smack her gum as she spoke; her voice was nasally and sounded like she was annoyed. “We were taking applicants yesterday. This is today, not yesterday. Our spots are filled. The twenty grand reward was put up and two hours later we were out of spots.”

             
Baggs stammered for a second, having so much to say but not knowing how to explain.
I spent all our CreditCoins last night; we don’t even have enough money to buy food for today! If I’m not allowed to enter, we will die.
Beads of sweat popped up on his forehead and stood up to his full height. He heard the cop step behind him. Baggs read the receptionist’s nametag and thought;
I cannot take ‘no’ for an answer. She has to let me sign up.

             
“Julie,” Baggs began. His voice was shaking. His heart was palpating and he grasped his side of the desk to keep from trembling as he spoke through the little holes cut in the separating glass. “Julie, I need to enter Outlive. I have two daughters at home, and if I can’t enter, they are going to starve.”

             
The cop put his hand on Baggs’s shoulder and Baggs felt his face grow hot with irritation. This was between himself and Julie. He didn’t want the cop touching him.
First, one kicked me, and now this one thinks that he can touch me like this! They think they rule the world!

             
Baggs didn’t brush the hand away. Julie seemed to like the cop, and Baggs didn’t want to upset her.
She has to let me sign up. There has to be something that I can do!
He couldn’t accept the reality that he had rapidly sped up his daughters’ starving by buying all that food last night.
What will Tessa say? Oh, God! I messed up! Oh, God!

             
Something about Baggs’s posture made Julie’s eyes widen; she looked scared and didn’t speak.

             
The hand on Baggs’s shoulder tightened: “Listen, pal, we get sob stories here all the time,” the cop said. His voice was husky. “There ain’t nothing we can do about it; okay? If it’s full, it’s full.”

             
Baggs didn’t turn to talk to the cop; something about the way the guy walked told Baggs that the man liked pushing people around; Baggs intuited that the man would enjoy telling Baggs,
Sorry, bubba, but you just gotta starve, old pal! Say, do you know the McKesson family? I think I saw you on the street that day! Yeah, I was the one who shot the kids. They were getting too rowdy.

             
“Julie,” Baggs said again. “Is there anything you can do for me? Can you help me, Julie?”

             
“I’m sorry, but…”

             
Baggs raised his voice;
“My daughters will starve if you don’t…”

             
The officer grabbed Baggs by his hurt shoulder and pulled back. Baggs kept talking as if there was no one in the room but he and the receptionist.

             
“…help me out! They’ll starve! Be dead, do you understand? Can’t you do something, Julie?”

             
With a gloved hand, the officer squeezed Baggs’s K9 bite and pulled harder. Baggs was forced to take a step back, but he kept his eyes locked on the receptionist. Her eyes looked worried.

             
I’m getting through to her,
Baggs thought. He interpreted her expression as one of sympathy.

             
A whisper: “Please, Julie.”

             
Julie shook her head. “I’m sorry, but there are only so many people we can take each season.”

             
Baggs took a step forward and tore his arm free from the officer’s grip. He didn’t mean it as an aggressive move, but that’s how it was taken. The officer stepped forward and pushed Baggs into the wall. Baggs’s hit the wall, but didn’t take his eyes off of Julie.

             
“C’mon, buddy, Let’s go.” The officer grabbed Baggs by the arm and started to pull him towards the door.

             
“Julie, can I talk to someone else? Is there anyone else?” Baggs asked as he was dragged towards the door.

             
Julie shook her head.

             
When Baggs heard the officer open the door and get ready to push him out on the street, he grew frantic. A moment ago, he was sad because he wouldn’t ever be allowed to walk freely again, and now he was terrified of being pushed out there.

             
Baggs ripped his arm out of the officer’s hand and ran back towards the desk. The officer muttered something, and then Baggs heard a metallic click.

             
“Julie! Look at me! My family will
die
if you don’t do something. Think! Is there anything you can do?”

             
Julie shook her head tersely. Her green eyes seemed to understand the gravity of the situation, though, which was good.
She’ll help me,
Baggs thought.
She can let me talk to someone else, and maybe they’ll see a way to help me out.

             
Julie’s eyes shifted from Baggs to behind him, and she let out a little shriek.

             
Baggs turned, but he was too slow, and a nightstick came down upon his back.

             
“Get out.”

             
The blow sent pain radiating around the site of impact, which was right between his shoulder blades. Baggs howled with pain and rage. Without thinking, he balled his right hand into a fist and reared back. The officer had a gun holstered to his hip, but didn’t have time to reach for it. Baggs shifted his weight like a lumberjack does when chopping into a tree and punched the policeman through his eyeglasses. Shards of glass lacerated his face and eyelid and he screamed in surprise. Julie was screaming too.

The officer reached for his gun, but Baggs grabbed it first and threw it to the floor. Distantly, he heard more screaming, and feet shuffling, but he didn’t care. He was going to hurt this man.

              Baggs wasn’t normally a violent person, but he was snapping like a bloodthirsty junkyard dog. It had happened before. A lot of things brought on the storm of adrenaline in his brain. He was going to starve. Maggie, Tessa, and Olive were going to starve. And then, he was still mad at how the female officer had kicked him in the stomach, and then insinuated that Baggs was a lazy drain on society for not having a job when he would have loved the opportunity to work. He looked at the bloody face of the man he had just punched. The man was blond, and tall, but shorter than Baggs. He had wide shoulders, but they weren’t as wide as Baggs’s. He had big hands, but they weren’t as big as Baggs’s. He had blond, short hair, and even as he was bleeding, he wore a smug expression like he thought he was better than Baggs.

             
I’ll show him! I’ll show him that he can’t just hit people! And you can’t point a gun at me for trying to get a cake out of the garbage bin, trying to feed my family! And you can’t ignore the dead kid in the alleyway as an officer, or the eleven-year-old prostitute! You can’t kick me while I’m sleeping! And you can’t steal my damned shoes!