Level One

  Mouse Boy didn’t make so much as a whimper as he fell to the floor. And once he was down, he didn’t move at all. Just laid there like a bag of dirt. Cooper was a little worried at first that he had killed the poor kid, until he gave off a sad little moan that proved he was still alive, at least for now.

  Alone finally, Cooper’s first order of business was taking off the naked chick ring, which was starting to itch like fuck. He then went back to the wicker cage to collect his canteen and put on his BVDs. Then returned to the auditorium, where he stripped Mouse Boy of his Chuck Taylors and tube socks. It was a little bit gross, putting on socks that another dude had just been wearing, but at the same time, it felt great to have proper shoes on again. Mouse Boy’s miniskirt-thing didn’t have pockets, but he did have a weird leather pouch hanging from a lanyard over his shoulder. Inside the pouch were three small, blocky, L-shaped pieces of a metal that might have been brass. It took Cooper a minute to realize they were keys.

  He realized this while inspecting that other wicker cage in the barracks room, the one the Cyclops and Spiro had been poking around in right after Cooper escaped. Obviously, the kids had to have stashed Cooper’s duffel bag somewhere, and that other cage seemed like just about the only place it could be. The cage also had a thick, chunky lock on it made of the same brassy-looking metal as the L-shapes, which was how Cooper made the connection.

  The long end of the weird L-shape turned out to be just the right size to fit into the hole in the lock, though the first one didn’t turn. The second one didn’t turn either, but the third one did. Whatever Cooper was expecting to find inside the wicker cage, he was disappointed. It was less like a treasure vault and more like a supply closet in a high school theater department. Both walls were lined with sagging wooden shelves full of squarish wicker baskets filled to overflowing with useless bullshit. If anything, “useless” was an understatement. One basket was entirely full of broken sandals and boots. The next basket over was full of dirty brown coins that looked like pennies, though the writing on them was in any number of languages that could have been Latin or Greek or who the fuck knows? Next to that was a box full of dingy glass bottles, then another of leather bags, pouches, and purses, then another one filled to the brim with scraps of colored plastic. Cooper spent a few minutes rummaging through the clutter, pushing aside piles of rags and wooden bowls full of rusted-out pen knives until finally, under a wicker box full of bent and broken nails, he found his duffel bag.

  Holding his breath, he opened it. The money was still inside, thank God. Everything else was missing, but at least he was rich again. As Mouse Boy moaned again from the amphitheater, Cooper took a step deeper into the vault. He figured it was okay if he left a few things behind, but he at least needed his clothes. Also, he wanted his .28 back, even though it only had the one shot left. And of course, he would take any food he came across. But unfortunately, he found none of those things, no matter how many baskets of trash he waded through. He did find a vintage Swiss Army knife in a basket full of broken hand tools, but everything else was just junk.

  Cooper stared at the Swiss Army knife for a moment. Up until that point, he had been planning to cut the kids some slack, but the fact that he couldn’t find his revolver - or even a single pair of pants! - pissed him off. So after pocketing the Swiss army knife, he began shoving other stuff into his duffel at random. He tried to prioritize stuff that might potentially be useful, but since there wasn’t much of that, it ended up being somewhat random. Pouches, boxes, belts, a ball of yarn. Literally anything that caught his eye.

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  Toward the back of the vault, hanging from a metal wire stretching across the space between shelves, was a blue miniskirt that looked to be about Cooper’s size. And while he really wasn’t at all interested in wearing a fucking miniskirt, he also figured it wouldn’t take up much space inside his duffel. So he took the miniskirt, and that was how he found it. Just behind the wire hanger, leaning against a box of dirty rags, was the snake stick. It was turned outward so that the snake’s eyes once again appeared to be pointed right at Cooper. Again, Cooper found himself examining the expression on the snake’s face, trying to figure out if it was smiling.

  Just then, Mouse Boy moaned from the amphitheater.

  “Shut the fuck up!” Cooper shouted, then regretted it, as someone might hear him.

  In the back of his mind, Cooper knew it was a mistake to touch the stick. After all, the other kids could return at any minute. And whatever this thing was, it was none of his business. It was the same inner voice that had told him to ignore that weird sparkle at the back of the cave. Once again, it was saying leave it alone. After all, it didn’t really matter whether or not the snake was smiling, did it? So what was the point in taking a closer look?

  That voice was like a broken record in his head - don’t touch it… just leave… they’ll be back any second… don’t touch it… just leave… - and once again Cooper completely ignored it. Despite his every instinct screaming at him, and for no reason he would ever be able to adequately explain, other than pure stubbornness, he reached out to pick the snake stick up.

  The craziest part is he wasn’t even all surprised when he felt a sudden jolt of pain, like an electrical shock, and the stick attached itself to his hand.

  “What the shit?” Cooper muttered, giving his hand a shake. But the stick stayed attached. He set about trying to pry away his individual fingers, but each of them was tightly welded. It was like the stick had been coated in Superglue.

  As Cooper struggled, he heard Mouse Boy groan again from the auditorium. He was just about to curse the kid out again when he heard someone shout in hooba-fooba talk from the same direction. Cooper immediately slipped on the naked chick ring. When he got to the corridor, Fidel and Spiro were just coming through the other way, carrying the still-unconscious Mouse Boy between them. For once, they didn’t seem to be arguing. They carefully placed Mouse Boy in a hammock, Spiro going to fetch some water while Fidel checked his pulse.

  Cooper watched the two boys carefully, waiting until they were looking the other way to pick up the duffel bag and drape it across his shoulder. Then he slowly, quietly padded his way through the corridor to the amphitheater, and out into the maze.

  * * * * *

  Name: Cooper of Vancouver

  Gender: Male

  Affiliation: None

  Age at Entry: 29

  Current Level: The Labyrinth (1)

  Jing: 10/10

  Qi: 6/14

  Shen: 0

  Status: Cursed (3)

  here.