Gaming The System Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Become A Deviant copy

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Title Page

  Ch 1 Lenox

  Ch 2 Piper LaRue

  Ch 3 Piper LaRue

  Ch 4 Anthony Ortiz

  Ch 5 Piper LaRue

  Ch 6 Lenox

  Ch 7 Piper LaRue

  Ch 8 Lenox

  Ch 9 Piper LaRue

  Ch 10 Piper LaRue

  Ch 11 Anthony Ortiz

  Ch 12 Piper LaRue

  Ch 13 Anthony Ortiz

  Ch 14 Piper LaRue

  Ch 15 Lenox

  Ch 16 Piper LaRue

  Ch 17 Piper LaRue

  Ch 18 Lenox

  Ch 19 Piper LaRue

  Ch 20 Piper LaRue

  Ch 21 Anthony Ortiz

  Ch 22 Lenox

  Ch 23 Piper LaRue

  Ch 24 Anthony Ortiz

  Ch 25 Piper LaRue

  Ch 26 Lenox LaRue

  Ch 27 Piper LaRue

  Ch 28 Lenox

  Ch 29 Anthony Ortiz

  Ch 30 Piper LaRue

  Ch 31 Piper LaRue

  Ch 32 Lenox

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  Gaming The System

  Book 1 of the Gaming the System Series

  By Parker Mayhem

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  This is a work of fiction. Blah blah blah, we’ve all heard the spiel. Now get on with reading!

  Copyright © 2015 Parker Mayhem

  All rights reserved.

  To you and you and you

  Gaming The System

  Book 1 In The Gaming the System Series

  By Parker Mayhem

  Ch 1 Lenox

  Lenox slowly took in a breath as she lined up the sights of her rifle.

  "I'm watching this girl, big lady; and that's putting it nicely. I mean, her fat rolls had fat rolls, ya know?" Lenox said casually as she watched the runner flee across the field, his orange jumpsuit painfully conspicuous against the rolling green backdrop.

  She wasn't Jacked in, no overlays. Didn't need to be. The shot would be easy enough. Second nature. She ignored the numbers displaying her heart rate in the upper right corner of her vision. She didn't need some damn tech telling her she was calm. Of course, she was calm.

  "She's wearing this skimpy ass tube top thingy and track pants, at least, three sizes too small. Shit's disappearing in places, straight swallowed up in this girl's rolls."

  Lenox's eyes narrowed slightly, tracking the neon orange target. She felt the smile tug at the corner of her lips.

  "And she's grabbing shit up, candy bars, and those little bags of nuts and shit. Next thing I know, her hands are empty. I'm like ‘what the fuck’? So I watch her again. She's snatching up candy and cookies like there's no tomorrow. Then starts stuffing them into her fat rolls. Like physically lifting them up and tuckin' that shit under. Doin' a damn good job too. You couldn't tell; until...she started stuffing them down her ass crack." Lenox lightly sat her finger against the trigger. "I shit you not. RBC...Right between the cheeks."

  Behind her, she could hear the deputy shift impatiently. A crackle of static drifted from the guy's radio attached to his shoulder.

  She smiled to herself. And he wanted to call her equipment archaic? With all the damn money MAX Corp made, you'd think they could spring for Jack upgrades. Though she supposed they saved the shoddy discount upgrades for actual CO's on the inside. Hell, for all she knew this guy was just a glorified security guard tasked with roaming the Dead Zone. Probably had little more than a 9th grade education.

  "You gonna do this or not?" The deputy asked as he shifted from foot to foot. "I can't believe you're using that thing. So inaccurate. They've done studies you know. One thermal guided smartround, that's all it'd take.We'd be outta here in like two seconds."

  Lenox ignored the man and continued her story as she focused on her breathing, flowing with the words. It was like a dance, a lesson in self-discipline. Beautiful. Art.

  "I get up to the register and the lady pays for a soda, a fucking soda, and leaves. I step up and say to the clerk. 'You know she stole a bunch of shit right?' You know what he says?"

  "Fuck this, this is stupid. I'm calling in backup." The deputy grumbled, shaking his head, as he reached for the hand mic on his shoulder.

  The crack of the rifle echoed through the field and the inmate dropped instantly. Easy money.

  “Oh, fuck!” The deputy’s voice echoed behind her.

  The numbers in the corner of her vision jumped rapidly as the thrill buzzed through her.

  She closed her eyes and felt the sunshine on her face as she tried to slow her heart rate. It was practically humming.

  The darkness crept in, threatening to consume her. Not again. She couldn't go back. She slip now. How long had it taken Brevek to pull her back the last time? This was her job, nothing more.

  Divorce the emotion. There can't be any emotion.

  Fuck, she needed a drink. Needed a few actually. Fuck the bottle, just give her the damn barrel of whiskey.

  She focused on the warmth hitting her cheeks, hoping the light would ground her; chase away the black. After a few deep breaths, the sensation passed and she could breathe normally again.

  Lenox didn't even glance at the deputy as she expertly broke down the rifle and stowed it in the case. He didn't want to hear her story? Fine. She didn't feel like talking any longer anyway. She’d learned long ago not to waste time on people that didn’t give a shit, on things that didn’t matter. Maybe that made her antisocial or an asshole? Either way, she didn’t care. She couldn’t help it if people didn’t get her. That was their problem, at least she could say she had tried.

  She calmly stood and walked by the deputy, his jaw still hanging open. He looked every bit of the backwater slum hick he was.

  "Now...you can call it in. I don't do clean up,” she said over her shoulder as she started down the grassy slope toward the road where her flat, black motorcycle was parked in front of the deputy's car.

  The man glanced back to the downed inmate then stumbled after her.

  "What the hell? How? Hold up, hey, hold up,” he said as he followed her. “I ain't seen nothing like that before.”

  Clearly.

  Lenox placed the case in a saddle bag and swung a leg over the bike. It wasn't nearly as fancy and high tech as the new bikes on the market. Hell, some had called it an antique, but it got the job done, and it was intimidating as hell. Some things just couldn't be replicated, and good old bike craftsmanship was one of those things.

  She slipped on a pair of skintight, black leather gloves and narrowed her eyes at the babbling deputy. Man, he was really getting on her nerves. The urge for a strong drink grew to a roar.

  "How the hell did you do that?"

  She fired up the bike and revved the engine a few times, loving the way the deputy flinched.

  "I thought a gentleman never asks?" Lenox shouted over the rumble of the bike.

  "I know, I know, and a lady never tells,” the deputy finished the old adage.

  Lenox fixed the man with a hard stare, knowing the light would catch her right eye just right, and reflect the dark purple of the nanite wiring infused there.

  It had the desired effect and the deputy took a noticeable step back. She placed a pair of dark sunglasses over her eyes and smiled to herself.

  "I'm no lady."

  With another rev of the engine, she peeled out and took off down the road, leaving the awe and fear struck deputy,
behind.

  Ch 2 Piper LaRue

  Piper shoved over a case of equipment in a small, childish fit of rage. How could they do this to her? She'd been told it was a go, been given the green light. She'd even called and checked, then double checked again.

  Arrangements had been made. Bags had been packed, shit had been sold. She'd even dumped her dog at a friend's with a promise to return in, God only knew, how long.

  She'd felt bad about that one. Pets were a lifelong commitment, she was a firm believer in that, but she was also a firm believer in chasing one's art and this project wouldn't allow for it.

  So she'd traveled to East Jesus nowhere with only a handful of belongings to chase a dream. And they were telling her no? Well, not exactly, technically they weren’t telling her anything. Which was kind of worse. Like some horrifying, creative limbo.

  Bullshit.

  Unacceptable. She wasn't going to take it. She wasn't one of their criminals, she lived in the real world. With real people. With etiquette. Where was the professional courtesy? A hint of respect?

  The rejection only spurred her on. She was getting into that damned prison. No one was going to come between her and her vision.

  No way,

  "This is bullshit. We've been here for three hours. Jerkin' us around. It's bullshit,” Piper said as she paced the concrete next to the van. "No, fuck this."

  Piper started for the guard shack. She wasn't sure exactly what she planned to do, only that it involved mentally terrorizing the dick of a guard, and making one hell of a scene.

  Let's see them ignore that.

  "What are you doing?" Rico asked as he jumped off the hood of the van and chased after her.

  "Don't know." It was the truth. She had no fucking clue what she was doing. Probably, making things worse.

  No. Definitely making things worse.

  "No one said it's not happening, just that we weren't cleared yet." Rico reminded her.

  "And when will that be?" She stopped and eyed Rico. "They're doing this to fuck with me."

  "No one's fucking with you. You know how this shit works. Bureaucratic nightmare." Rico tried again to talk her down from the ledge.

  "No, they're fucking with me,” she said as she turned and headed toward the shack.

  “It's not going to accomplish anything.” Rico hollered after her.

  “Probably not, but it'll make me feel better,” Piper said over her shoulder as she made her way towards the guard station.

  She was nearly there when she heard an incredibly loud rumble come up behind her. She wasn't sure how it had snuck up on her. The sound would've dwarfed thunder.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she practically had to jump out of the way to avoid being run down as an ancient, black motorcycle jerked to a stop at the shack.

  "Excuse you!" Piper shouted. "You nearly killed me!"

  "That's a little dramatic don't you think?" The girl on the bike shouted as the gate started to open. “You popped out of the way just fine.”

  Piper could feel her face grow hot beneath her rage. She didn't know who the bitch was, only that she desperately wanted to strangle her.

  The girl's light, mocha skin was tatted to high hell. Old school ink peeked out from the girl's black sleeves and ran down to her hands. No doubt to try and intimidate any poor soul that happened to cross her path. Well, that shit didn't work on her.

  Nice try.

  Piper's arms crossed over her chest, her jaw set.

  The mysterious rider pulled off her sunglasses and stared her down.

  Piper moved toward the woman, taking up the challenge, but stopped quickly when the girl's right eye glinted a deep shade of purple; almost a metallic shimmer to it. Unnerved, she backed down. She hadn't seen anything like it before. She couldn't stop staring but desperately wanted to be anywhere but trapped in the girl's gaze.

  "That's what I thought!” The girl shouted with a smile over the rumble of the bike's engine before taking off inside.

  Piper's rage seemed to ratchet up a notch or two. It wasn't like her to back down, someone had to catch her unspent wrath.

  Piper finished stomping to the guard shack and tapped loudly on the glass. The window slid open and she inhaled, ready to unleash hell. She was instantly deflated when the bored looking guard thrust three official looking badges in her face. She reached up and took the offered badges and turned them over in her hands. Each one was marked with a name then big bold letters underneath declaring them "VISITOR".

  "Drive straight in, park in the white lined stalls. You'll see several up front, but those are designated for official business. Find the ones at the back, park there. An officer will be waiting,” the guard said without looking.

  Piper readied a bitchy reply, but before she could spit it out, the guard slammed the window in her face.

  Stunned by the man's rudeness, she slowly turned and walked back towards her crew.

  Her rage swirled with her rising exhilaration and warred for dominance.

  You're getting in, don't do anything stupid. Not yet.

  "Right, let's do this," Piper said more to herself than anyone as she joined the guys by the van.

  "Man, she sure showed him," Rico said to Jason as he hopped into the side door.

  "Shut it, Rico," Piper said as she climbed into the van with Jason. He should know better than to poke her.

  Rico saluted and snapped his heels together before marching around to the front seat.

  Jason laughed, shaking his head as he slammed the side door.

  And just like that, they were in.

  Ch 3 Piper LaRue

  Piper tapped impatiently on her knee as Rico drove them to the back corner of the parking lot. Her anger had faded into annoyance but reignited once she climbed out.

  With a glance up, through the rows of razor wire and chain link, she saw the guard shack not far in the distance. If she really tried, she could've thrown a rock and hit the damn thing.

  The guard stood outside the back door smoking and waved dramatically. Piper stopped herself from flipping the pig off. There were few things that pissed her off more than being jerked around.

  Laugh it up, fat ass.

  As the guys shuffled from the van, she glanced around the lot. A rock was looking really good. She looked back up at the laughing guard and judged the distance, but quickly abandoned the notion of retaliation at the sound of a deep voice.

  "Miss LaRue?"

  Piper turned and looked at the uniformed guard. She prayed he would be more tolerable.

  “Wanting to get in your exercise?” The guard asked, wiping his brow.

  She shot him a puzzled look.

  “Most people jump on those front row stalls. I mean, it’s cool, I get it. Anything to stay fit these days. Am I right?” The guard said, tapping his gut.

  Piper whipped around and glared at the guard in the shack. He saluted her with two fingers, she saluted back, with one.

  "This way." The guard started toward a newer looking building in the distance.

  From where they were, the building looked more like an office building you'd find in any thriving city, than a prison. It almost looked warm; normal even. A small bud of disappointment started to take root inside her. People wouldn't pay for normal. People wanted to see the dark, the grotesque.

  The closer they got, Piper could tell it was definitely a new addition to the facility. Half a dozen ancient looking, brick buildings stood beyond another maze of intimidating fences.

  Intimidating as hell. Now, that was more like it. Cold and sinister. Twisted and dark. That was what people wanted.

  After a five minute walk, the guard swiped his badge and held open the door. Piper noticed the bold lettering on the glass. "Administration Only".

  They were led down a narrow hallway to a small lobby with several stiff, uptight chairs. The secretary at the small desk didn't even bother looking up as they entered. Apparently, it was just asshole day.

  Lucky me.

  The
guard motioned to the chairs and told them to wait.

  Piper walked the short row of dark blue chairs before turning to ask the guard exactly who the hell they were waiting for, but when she looked back, the man was gone.

  Jason plopped down into the closest chair and pulled out his Jackpad.

  "Hurry up and wait everyone,” he said under his breath as he woke the screen and started tapping away on the screen.

  Piper felt a dull ache of uncertainty gnaw at her. They could still throw them out. Nothing was set. She wouldn't be able to truly relax until they were ass deep into filming. Even then, it was never a sure thing. At least by that time, she'd have her footage. And she was damned good at hiding it. The final cut was always determined by how much they dicked her around. And at that moment; it wasn't looking good.

  She was mentally plotting MAX Corp's cinematic demise when a door opened across from them and a fierce looking woman stepped out.

  The woman's tailored suit looked like it cost more than Piper's last film grossed, and that was saying something. Piper instantly despised the woman on sheer principle alone. The rich privileged types, always walking around like the world was their bitch; little guys be damned. It was exactly why she wanted to make documentaries in the first place. A kind of cinematic karma. Her way of balancing the cosmic scales.

  Her scorn only multiplied when the tatted girl from the motorcycle stepped out behind the immaculately dressed woman.

  Great.

  The girl pushed by the woman and started down the hall away from Piper and her crew. Piper smiled inwardly. It looked like the two weren't exactly getting along.

  Good.

  "A little finesse and discretion wouldn't hurt Lenox. Remember who you work for." The suited woman said after the girl.

  So the demon had a name.

  Lenox didn't even glance back as she raised a hand and flipped the woman off.