Phil had quickly come to and was standing behind the bar. He pretended to clean. Daniel could see his trembling hands and his gaze, which kept shifting—sometimes toward them with all its helplessness, sometimes toward the dead Violet on the floor and the slain Jake beside her.


    "Troy? Where’s your rifle?" Bart’s voice broke the silence again.


    Troy grabbed his rifle and stood like a soldier awaiting orders.


    "Be so kind as to take these gentlemen to the rooms upstairs," Bart said.


    Troy pointed the rifle at them and positioned himself at a safe distance.


    "Get up, fools," he said. His childish voice hadn’t even begun to break—that’s how young he was. A rifle in a child’s hands was something you didn’t see every day.


    Daniel stood first, followed by Jasper. Now that they were upright, little Troy only came up to their waists. But he had a weapon, and they didn’t. That made him much taller than them. Troy gestured with the rifle, indicating where they should go, and they obeyed. Daniel wondered which twisted mind at the company had decided to include a child—and one with a gun, no less.


    They followed Troy’s lead and walked around the chairs. As they turned their backs to him, they heard his name.


    "Troy?" It was his father’s voice. Jasper and Daniel turned around. Troy had turned too.


    "Don’t do anything stupid, Beatrice," Bart said.


    Beatrice had somehow gotten hold of Bart’s revolver and was pointing it at his head. Bart had his hands raised, but he looked calm. Beatrice, despite being the one with the gun, seemed even more nervous.


    The scene was strange, like something straight out of a Western. Sure, they were in a place like that, but this level of realism felt almost unreal.


    Wade wasn’t fazed either. He even found it amusing.


    Troy, with the butt of his rifle pressed to his shoulder, shouted:


    "Drop the gun, you whore! Let my dad go!"


    "Troy?" Bart looked at his son. "How can you use language like that, son? Is that how I raised you? Beatrice is a very refined young lady."


    "She needs to drop the gun!" Troy was unrelenting.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Daniel couldn’t tell whether Bart was more worried about Beatrice or his son.


    "Troy, there’s no need for rash decisions," Bart said. "Our dear Beatrice is confused. She’ll realize her mistake soon and drop the gun. Right, darling?" Bart slowly turned. The barrel of the pistol was now pressed to his forehead.


    Beatrice’s hand trembled. But there was anger in her eyes.


    Troy, however, wouldn’t budge. He took a step forward. Daniel was certain the kid would shoot.


    And he was right.


    Everyone hit the ground. The sound of shattering glass rang out. A second shot followed, splintering the wooden bar.


    Beatrice was on the floor, hands over the back of her head, and the revolver was back in Bart’s possession.


    Wade had been faster than Troy and snatched the rifle from his hands.


    Beatrice was crying again.


    "Didn’t I tell you not to shoot?" Bart slapped Troy so hard that the boy fell to the ground.


    "It’s like we’re part of some theater, bro," Jasper whispered so only Daniel could hear. "It’s even starting to get a little funny. But I’ve got to admit, it’s damn good. I’m curious what else Barnes has cooked up for us."


    "Seems like those things he promised us are going to be delayed," Daniel replied. "I’m pissed at him too, but we’ve got to give it to him—he hid his intentions well."


    "You were around him for a whole month, bro. Didn’t you see anything?"


    "Honestly, no. All the robots we worked on were for the other parks. He must’ve kept all the ones for this one hidden."


    "Hey, you two," Bart stood up and approached them. "What are you whispering about now?"


    "We’re talking about how disgusting you are, Bart," Jasper goaded him. "And how you’re no leader. Daniel could tell this wouldn’t end well. "Your one helper is Wade, who just stands there grinning, and you’re relying on some kid. You’re pathetic, Bart."


    At first, Bart seemed calm, but then his face reddened, the flush creeping up his head to his bald scalp, where a few wrinkles appeared. He stepped closer to Jasper. His hands grabbed Jasper’s shirt and shoved him back slightly. He’d placed a foot behind Jasper, and as he pushed, Jasper tripped and fell. Daniel was surprised that Jasper, who usually flared up over less, stayed calm this time.


    "That’s where you belong, you ox," Bart said, giving him a light kick in the legs before returning to Troy. He took the rifle and went to Beatrice.


    "Move," he ordered.


    The redhead stood and walked ahead of the rifle’s barrel. She reached Daniel and Jasper.


    "Go. All three of you," Bart said. The smirk was gone from his face.


    The three obeyed. They walked ahead, with Beatrice behind them. All three guided by Bart’s gun.


    They climbed to the upper floor. Nothing had changed up there. The hallway, the doors… even the room numbers were the same.


    "To the right. Beatrice, show them," Bart instructed.


    Beatrice slowly moved ahead of them and opened the first door. She stepped inside, paused for a moment, then continued. Daniel followed right behind her. The room’s layout was the same as the one he’d slept in last time. Only back then, he’d been alone. Now, there were several other girls here. Some he recognized.


    Jasper entered too. Bart stood behind them, keeping them at gunpoint as he untied their hands. Then he stepped out and closed the door.


    The click of a lock followed.