Death’s Game 22: Maria Sanchez, 3

I’m silent now as I ever was, running through the bushes and overgrown grass the chain-link fence that wraps around Gerard’s warehouse. A little trick I learned early on was to individually wrap my equipment in small towels to dampen the sound of metal clinking together. The setup and teardown are longer, and your bag […]

Death’s Game 21: Maria Sanchez, 2

The warehouse looms in the center of what used to be an industrial park, surrounded by several other rundown and ready-to-fall-over buildings. The roads are filled with potholes and random stretches of gravel or dirt interspersed within what remains of the beaten-down pavement. Every time someone drives through, which is surprisingly frequent considering the state […]

Death’s Game 20: Maria Sanchez

“Oh, come on!” I punch the couch before I realize what’s going on. “He was offsides! You blind, you fucking ref?” Head shakes off the cobwebs. Eyes blink away the surprise. It’s early in the morning, about seven. I’m in a living room, watching a soccer game, clad in a Real Madrid jersey. Soccer match, […]

Death’s Game 17: Jordan Larson

I’m lying face-down in the bed of a new woman, restless, wide awake despite the fact that I just woke up, perhaps kept so by the cold torrent of bloody rage flowing through me. “That motherfucker.” I told you he was just using you, Ally mutters. My hand instinctively reaches for the bottle of alcohol […]