the maze of parking ramps. A cowboy on a skateboard went zooming by. “ at was real,” Ford conrmed. Further we ventured into the labyrinth - so agonizingly far, that it seemed like we’d made it to a dierent casino. “We need to get out of here,” I announced, when the walls began to cave in. “I think they’re designed so you can’t just do that,” Ford suggested. “ ey designed it really well. It’s working.” “I promise you, I promise you, the pickup station is right around this wall,” Huxley said a number of times until nally I insisted we re- turn instead through the rst hotel door we saw. Watching us intently, two guards sat at the other end of the entry. ey were on edge, whispering together, like some sort of protocol was being triggered here – the tramps and thieves were back, yes, time to reach for the billy-clubs – so we veered away and proceeded upstairs - only to be spat out right in the middle of the hotel. We found ourselves in a large atrium and box o ce area dedicated to none other than “ e Disco Show,” the titular dinner revue of the Linq, with two-story blazing letters and wall photos. e entire lobby mirrored the waiting line for Space Mountain; all sights and sounds suggested both animatronics, and maybe a rollercoaster, lay around the bend. “How… did we not see this before,” Huxley groaned. Miserably we slunk further down the stairs and into the gambling area, onto the main drag – then stopped, frozen in our tracks. “ ere he is!” Ford gasped. Fiy feet away to our le was Ross, in his bright red jacket, cajoling the passersby. We’d gone in a giant circle. Hide! We ducked immediately behind the slot machines. Did he see us? Mother of God. is was juvenile. We couldn’t possibly be this trapped . “We can’t go back, he can’t see us,” I told them. “How do we – where do we –?” Back to the parking garage! We marched briskly back the way we’d come – careful this time to follow the signs for rideshare, which took us right past the guards. ey were re- lieved to watch us go. Outside we collapsed onto the benches. ere was no taxi stand so we hailed a Ly. We waited. And waited. But the drivers were avoid- ing us. At rst we agreed, it must be the damn Formula One race scaolding le over from last week, rerouting tra c…. But to happen again and again – it couldn't be coincidence… “I’m nding a new driver now, it told me three chances.”
“Did you cancel?” “ at’s what they were doing, they route ‘em,
then they drive around in circles–” “ ey’re scamming someone …”
“We should’ve just gone back to the Flamin- go…” I croaked as they studied their devices. is was not a drill… rough some wizardry the Universe had condemned us to prison. We were shackled, invisibly. Or, already dead and simply haunting this godforsaken place… Whatever the force, there had to be a way to sever this tether to e Linq... Find a priest? Recite some incantation, break from the curse? Disturbing thoughts now … What if they catch up to us here? Ross… Security… e March Hare … Huxley clutched his phone in anguish. It was happening again. “Guys, I don’t think we’re gettin’ to this party,” I said. “We haven’t gone more than 300 yards. You could probably see our room from the street.” “Huxley, do you need help?” “It’s going so slowly - I’m asking you to also do it. Cause I’m ready to cancel.” “ at’s the scam. You gotta cancel so you’ll give ‘em ve bucks.” “ ey get the pity pay and they don’t have to take you on your ride… “ “How is it workin’ for everyone else?” Huxley demanded, “Absolute bullshit!” “Can I tell you my biggest fear right now?” I said. “It’s having to… walk over to the Fla- mingo… just to get in the taxi line.” “We might have to,” he admitted. “We got a guy in seven minutes, and it’s showing his route, if he turns o this line”... “You guys have made this mistake four times already,” Ford spat. “Text him and tell him ‘You need to stop this and come pick us up!’” “ Ohmygod why are you turning!!” Huxley cursed at the screen. “Somebody help us,” Ford whispered. “Some- body help us please.” We sat in silence. We’d succumbed to our wounds. “You can't cancel it, because then they have to come,” he grunted. By time our carriage nally arrived, we were lifeless. To End A Quest that Never Was W e'd died and gone to the warehouse district. It was just past 10:30pm as we pulled up to the Industrial Event Space, a sinister huge garage and storage lot, decked out in garish decor. Propped up in a
118 MARCH/APRIL 2026
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