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CHAPTER 55

H
azel eyes. Strong chin. Features I’d encountered twice before.

“It’s a shame I can’t see you, but the audio functions both ways, so we can chat. Frankly, I’m stunned you’re all still alive.”

The Gamemaster was indoors, out of the storm. He wore an odd brown robe, and his thin brown hair lay dry and flat against his scalp. His body filled the screen, making it impossible to guess his location. I had the impression he was transmitting from a smart phone.

“Monster,” I hissed, flare powers roiling in response to my anger.

Shelton and Hi were beside me on the couch, staring at the screen, their glowing eyes round with shock. Ben’s face paled, then he popped to his feet and began pacing the room. Sensing the tension, Coop trotted to my side and dropped to his haunches.

“Not so,” the Gamemaster replied calmly. “I’m an artist.”

“Artist?” Hi spat. “We’ve seen your repulsive slideshow. You’re a terrorist!”

The bastard laughed. “
Hardly.
I create violent masterpieces. Conduct symphonies of destruction. Your game was simply my latest triumph.”

“Toying with lives is not a game!” I snapped. “You’re psychotic!”

“
Everything
is a game.” He spoke patiently, as if instructing a child. “I merely design fantastic examples. It’s a shame you’ll never understand.”

“We beat you,” Hi taunted. “We’re here,
alive.
The debutante ball wasn’t a massacre—it wasn’t even touched. All you did was murder an innocent scientist. You’re nothing more than a common street thug.”

“You cheated,” the Gamemaster spat. My flare eyes detected a slight tic in his left cheek. Once. Twice. “Broke the rules.”

“We never agreed to play!” Shelton shouted.

“YES YOU DID!”
A snarl curled the Gamemaster’s lips. “My first letter was an
invitation.
You accepted by seeking the next cache. It was
your
choice.”

“It was a trick,” I said. “A coward’s setup.”

“I gave you a chance to be great!” The playful tone was long gone. “An opportunity to shed the trappings of your pathetic, boring lives. You should be
thanking
me.”

“You’re insane,” I snapped. “Playing God to mask whatever’s broken inside you.”

The Gamemaster’s face was granite, but the tic was a giveaway. I could tell he struggled to contain his fury.

“The
world
is insane,” he hissed. “I just help it dance.”

“We have your computer!” Shelton crowed. “It’s going straight to the cops.”

“Everything on that drive is public record.” Dismissive. “I’m not so reckless that I’d keep evidence connecting me to a crime. You don’t even know who I am, Mr. Devers.
None
of you do. There’s nothing on that laptop that can harm me.”

His arrogance infuriated me. “How many have you killed? Do you even know?”

“
I’ve
killed no one.” Almost offended. “Those unfortunates lost The Game.”

“The Game is rigged!” Hi barked. “They never had a chance.”

“LIE.”
The Gamemaster leaned close to the camera. “Every clue had an answer, each puzzle a solution. Those people
failed.
”

“Has anyone escaped?” I asked. “Any player survived?”

“No.” The brown-clad shoulders rose and fell. “But everyone had the chance.”

“How can you live with yourself? So many dead.”

“We’re all just meat, Victoria Brennan.” Spoken quietly. “Fragile bags of fluid and bone, drifting aimlessly, plodding through life until something ends it. I provide an escape from that dreadful reality. A chance to shine once in a drab, miserable existence, before facing the abyss.”

“You’re a hot, steaming ball of crazy,” Hi said. “You know that, right? Freaking Looney Tunes. How have you gotten away with this for so long?”

“Bad things happen, Hiram.” Strangely, he giggled. “Car brakes fail. A bridge gives way. A house explodes during a violent storm. Most times, no one suspects a thing. ‘Unlucky,’ they say. Bad karma. Fate. Even when the authorities confirm foul play—when I’ve left behind one of my toys, like that wonder box at The Citadel—it makes no difference. I follow no patterns. Leave no signature. I’m a ghost.”

He flourished one hand. “I’m the Gamemaster.”

“We tracked you here,” I said. “We’ll find you again.”

“Doubtful. Though I admit, you’ve impressed me. Nearly caught me off guard. That
never
happens.”

The image blurred. I sensed the Gamemaster was rising to his feet. Then his face filled the screen once more. “Now tell me, where is young Benjamin Blue?”

Ben froze mid-pace. Senses amplified, I heard his breath catch. Scented a burst of perspiration.

“Tell Ben thank you,” the Gamemaster continued. “I’ve never worked with a partner before. It made this Game more exciting than others, being able to get so close—”

“NO!”

Ben sprang and grabbed the Dell, then flung it across the room.

The laptop hit the wall and exploded into pieces.

The rest of us shot to our feet. Coop bounded to stand between Ben and me, a confused growl rumbling in his throat.

No. It’s not possible.

“What was he talking about, Ben?” I watched him with flare intensity. “Why did he call you his partner?”

“He’s a liar!” Ben’s chest was heaving. “I never tried to—”

He didn’t finish.

At that moment, a series of powerful gusts struck the row house, rattling the walls and shaking the foundation. Water pounded the windows and roof. Outside, Katelyn was shrieking to new heights.

My focus never shifted from my friend. I needed answers.

“Explain. Now.”

Shelton raised a trembling hand. “Ya’ll hear that?”

“Hear what?” Eyes still on Ben, who was staring at the floor.

“Hissing,” Shelton said. “Like the sound I heard in the basement of the Citadel.”

There was a thump outside, but I ignored it.

Shelton’s warning had tripped an alarm. But why?

I thought furiously. The Gamemaster’s recent words flashed in my brain.

Bad things happen, Hiram. Car brakes fail. A bridge gives way. A house explodes during a violent storm. Most times, no one suspects a thing.

A house explodes during a violent storm.

Hissing.

“Oh my God.”

I closed my eyes and drew deeply through my nose. Noted a hint of something harsh. Oily. The odor was subtle, but intensifying by the second.
Gas.
Without my flare I’d never have caught it.

I swung my head, testing for a scent trail.

The smell was trickling down the hallway.

A house explodes.

Gas.

The kitchen!

Headlights swept the room.

Hi shot forward and pressed his face to a window. “The driveway!”

I bolted for the kitchen. There the stench was overpowering.

My eyes shot to the stove. Saw the severed gas line.

The fireplace!

I tore back down the hall, terrified I was too late. “Everybody out!”

Hi tried the front door. “Locked! Deadbolt. No key!”

Ben shoved Hi aside. Golden eyes smoldering, he backed up three steps and charged, shoulder-slamming the door from its hinges. The forward motion tumbled him out onto the waterlogged grass.

The wind screamed as it swept into the living room, carrying a noxious perfume of salt, dead vegetation, garbage, and oil. Driving rain began drenching the carpet and furniture.

I frantically gestured to Hi and Shelton. “Go go go!”

They needed no urging. We shot out into the storm, Coop a half step behind us.

I heard a soft whiff, like an intake of breath.

Fire exploded from every window.

The force of the blast launched bricks and wooden slats high into the churning sky, tossing me forward like a Wiffle ball. I hit the ground and rolled, instinctively covering my head.

The boys were already sprawled across the lawn.

“Everyone okay?” I shouted. Three nods. The calmest corner of my mind noted the other Virals were still flaring.

Coop was circling me protectively, ears flat, fur wet and dancing in the gale.

Behind me, the house burned like a bonfire, defying the gallons of water plunging from the sky.

Slightly dazed, I glanced at the street.

The black F-150 was idling by the curb.

My flare vision pierced the truck’s rain-streaked windshield. I saw the Gamemaster, eyes wide, mouth a black oval of shock. He lips formed a single word:
impossible.

Six canvas duffels were piled in the truck bed.

Facts snapped into place.
How could I have been so blind?

The fire in the living room. The Dell. Headlights in the driveway.

We’d hoped the Gamemaster might return. Never suspected he hadn’t left.

The storage shed! We didn’t check the damn shed.

“Bastard!” Ben charged the truck.

Startled, the Gamemaster stomped the accelerator. Rainwater sluiced up from his tires as the F-150 careened down to the intersection and turned left.

Ben sprinted after, wet jeans molded to his legs, jacket sleeves flapping in the vicious wind. I watched truck and boy disappear around the corner.

“Ben, wait!”

My scream was swallowed by the storm.

Then a gray blur fired past me.

“Cooper, no!”

Ignoring me, the wolfdog charged in pursuit.

Shelton and Hi ran to my side.

“What should we do?” Hi was hunching to hold his ground in the swirling wind.

Shelton grabbed my arm. Shouted. “What did the Gamemaster mean about Ben?”

“I don’t know! We have to catch them!”

A trash can barreled down the street. Shingles flew from nearby roofs.

It was lunacy to be outside, but what choice did we have?

“Let’s go!” Rounding the corner, I spotted Ben a block ahead, running full tilt. Coop was loping a few yards behind. Even flaring, I couldn’t see the F-150.

Hurricane Katelyn was wholly unleashed.

Trees thrashed and writhed. Garbage and palm fronds swirled in the street and plastered walls and buildings. A fence post rolled down the sidewalk, followed by a plastic mailbox, a boot, and a clump of sodden magazines.

Horizontal rain filled my mouth and needled my skin.

Even flaring it was hard to see, to breathe.

We need every scrap of power. All we can access.

I motioned for Hi and Shelton to draw close.

Eyes shut, I focused on my flare. On the flaming cords linking our minds, the root of our psychic connection. Reaching deep, I drew from the hidden well of power I’d tapped to escape the grate.

Warmth permeated my limbs. The wind seemed slightly less murderous.

Instinctively, I spread the heat to my pack. Hi. Shelton. Coop. Even Ben.

Hi’s back straightened. Shelton stopped shivering.

“Stick close,” I yelled. “Harness your power.”

“Don’t burn out!” Hi shouted. “Without flares, we won’t make it ten feet.”

Together, we staggered to Spring Street, but Ben and Coop were nowhere to be seen. I watched dumbstruck as a gas station canopy ripped free and somersaulted into a Hardee’s drive-through.

“There!” Hi pointed toward the hospital. Flaring, he had best eyes. “I saw Ben!”

“Why didn’t the Gamemaster turn?” I yelled. “This road leads to the highway!”

“He can’t use the bridges!” Shelton shielded his glowing eyes from the downpour. “The police have them blocked. The Gamemaster can’t drive off the peninsula!”

He’s trapped. And we have the scent.

So we forged ahead, retracing our steps from an hour before.

It seemed a lifetime ago. A different age, when I could still trust Ben.

It can’t be true.

Then why would Ben panic? Why destroy the computer and run away?

For an instant, I’d caught his eye. Seen agony behind his golden irises.

Ben
has
a secret.

I have to learn what it is.

Three arduous blocks brought us back to Charleston Memorial Hospital. A doctor emerged from the lobby door and waved wildly for us to shelter inside. We pounded past.

Hi’s finger stabbed left, inland, away from the harbor. “They ran down Calhoun!”

Another block and I spotted them.

The F-150 was stopped in the middle of the street. Ben and Coop were fifty yards behind it and closing.

“Downed trees are blocking the road,” Hi panted. “The Gamemaster must’ve bailed.”

In the distance I glimpsed a brown-robed figure lugging a drenched duffel bag on one shoulder. The Gamemaster turned and stared in our direction. I could almost taste his wrath at being pursued.

We’re coming.

Ahead, Ben shot past the truck, vaulted a fallen palm tree, and fired up the street. Coop paused at the truck’s open driver’s side door, sniffed the interior, then spun and zipped after Ben.

Shelton, Hi, and I were approaching the F-150.

The Gamemaster watched, one hand tapping his leg in a regular rhythm.

What’s he doing?

“The truck’s got a CB antenna!” Shelton yelled. “I’ll radio for help!”

Shelton and Hi beelined for the vehicle. I didn’t. Bypassing the truck and downed palm, I continued the chase.

Ahead, Coop skidded to a stop. Turned. Howled back at me.

Intent on the Gamemaster, I nearly missed his message.

Fragmented images formed in my brain.

Black truck. Open door. Plastic brick on the seat. Blinking red light.

Danger. Bad smell. Bad thing.

I whirled.

Hi and Shelton were level with the truck’s rear bumper.

Eyes closing, I screamed.

CHAPTER 56

T
he flaming cords sizzled in my subconscious.

They crackled with intensity, larger and more vibrant than ever before.

I fired a message to Hi and Shelton.

Get away from the truck!

On instinct I forwarded Coop’s mental picture, overlaid with my own fear.

The force of my sending staggered them. They didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. Both turned and dove for the bushes bordering the road.

The truck exploded in a titanic fireball, lifting five feet into the air. Shards of metal and plastic blasted in every direction. The concussion knocked me to the pavement. Ignoring the pain, I streaked to where I’d last seen my friends.

Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay . . .

Coop raced past me and bounded into the singed and burning shrubs.

This time water conquered fire. As the hammering rain extinguished the flames, a choking cloud of smoke billowed across the street.

“Hi? Shelton?” I slogged into a knee-deep stream racing alongside the street. “Where are you?”

“Get this mutt off me!” A voice yelled from somewhere just ahead.

The smoke shifted to reveal Hi, on his back, sunk to his chin in a gathering creek. Coop had two paws on his chest and was licking his face.

A groan sounded to my right. I turned to see Shelton drag himself from the water.

“An exploding truck almost drowned me,” he wheezed. “What are the odds?”

Despite their dousing, both boys still had fire in their eyes.

“Are either of you hurt?” I shouted.

Head shakes.

“Then get up! We have to catch Ben!”

I struggled back to the road, heard Shelton and Hi close behind. Coop shot ahead once more, but this time I called him back.

Heel. Wait.

Coop’s ears perked. He checked his sprint and circled to my side.

“We do this together,” I ordered aloud.

I paused to let my soggy companions catch their breath. Shelton coughed. Hi blew a mammoth snot-rocket from his nose. Finally, they both gave a thumbs-up. We raced up the block, alert for any sign of Ben or the Gamemaster.

Minutes passed. Not a trace.

“The wind is dropping,” Shelton said, gasping for air. “I think the storm has blown out.”

“Katelyn’s not done.” Hi pointed to a giant hole in the clouds. “The eye is passing over us. The backside of this baby is still to come.”

As we approached the shopping district, the wind died altogether. An eerie quiet blanketed the city. After the last hour’s mayhem, the stillness was unnerving.

We watched Katelyn’s eye slide over our heads.

“The hurricane’s moving super fast,” Hi said. “This break won’t last.”

We crossed King and were passing The Gap when a hand shot from the doorway. Terrified, I lashed out, punching and kicking with all my strength.

“Take it easy!” Ben’s yellow eyes shone from the gloomy recess.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Shh. He’s just ahead.” Ben slipped from the alcove and crept to the corner of the building, forcing us to follow at his heels.

“He’s waiting for us.” Ben peeked around at the open expanse of Marion Square. “I saw him cut across the plaza.”

“Then let’s get him.” Angry. At Ben. At the Gamemaster. At myself for not confronting Ben then and there. “He could escape while we stand here talking.”

“The scumbag we’re chasing is a master marksman.” Ben kept his eyes on the plaza. “What do you think is in that duffel?”

“That field is a perfect ambush site.” Hi was also peering ahead. “And the wind just died.”

Shelton pointed a finger at Ben. “The Gamemaster called you—”

“Not now!” Ben snapped. “He’s a liar and a killer! We have to catch him first.”

Shelton crossed his arms, clearly dissatisfied with Ben’s response.

I wavered, unsure. Ben
was
hiding something.

But he was right. We had a job to do. A murderer to stop.

Answers would have to wait.

“Please.” Ben’s eyes practically begged. “I’ll explain everything later.”

“Okay,” I said coolly. “But you
will
explain.”

Ben nodded, then snuck another look at the square. “We need a plan.”

I cleared my mind to focus on the problem. “What are our assumptions?”

“There’s a sniper in the park,” Ben said.

“He’s heavily armed and highly skilled,” Shelton said.

“He’s had time to find an effective field of fire,” Hi said. “Create an ambush.”

I nodded. “And he’ll want to settle this while the eye is overhead and the wind isn’t a factor.”

“Options?” Shelton asked.

Ben’s hand slashed the air. “We flush him out, then take him down.”

“Great work,” Hi deadpanned. “Any idea how to do it?”

Ben shook his head. They all looked at me.

What did I know? Flush out a sniper? The only military strategy I’d ever learned was from watching
Band of Brothers.

“I should’ve bought Call of Duty,” Hi moaned. “But my stupid mother doesn’t let me play first-person shooter games.”

Coop brushed my leg. As I reached to rub his ears, the answer hit me.

“We use our edge. Stalk him like a wolf pack.”

Hi took a deep breath. “Okay, but if you scan my brain’s hard drive, stay away from the Internet search history. You won’t like what you find.”

Ignoring that, I shut my eyes and dove into my subconscious.

On impulse I held out both hands. Hi took one, Shelton the other. I felt Ben join the circle. And there was Coop, standing in the middle.

Focusing our strength.

The cords appeared, pulsing with energy.

Five sparking lines connected us together.

With our pack huddled so close, the lines rippled and thrummed with power.

I pushed.

The lines suddenly expanded, hollowed, and became tunnels.

That’s never happened before.

Sweat joined the rain drenching my brow.

Acting on reflex, I forced my thoughts into the nearest tunnel.

Hiram.

There was a floating sensation, then I felt something click.

Eyes snapped open. A head turned.

I stared at a rain-soaked redhead standing to my right. A girl.

Me. I’m looking at me.

Hi gasped. Startled, I retreated from his mind.

Opening another pair of eyes, I found myself back in familiar skin.

“Wow,” Hi breathed. “Oh wow.”

“Amazing,” I said. “But that’s not what we need.”

Concentrate. You’ve done this before.

I visualized the glowing cords. This time, I grabbed one but did not enter it.

Light pulsed its length. Fragments of thought assaulted me. Images. Emotions.

Shelton.

I reached for another line, forcing the power outward. More fragments appeared.

Hi.

Another. The neural chaos grew as Ben joined the circle.

I was bombarded by their feelings and impressions. By their fears. But I felt in control. I could touch their minds. Send thoughts or images to all of them.

Then I noticed a void, like a missing limb. The circle was incomplete.

Cooper’s silhouette materialized in my mind. Every cord ran through him.

Coop’s the key. Center of the pack.

Reaching out, I drew the wolfdog into the mix.

Flash of light. Fusion. Five minds melded into one.

Coop howled with canine delight.

Our pack was finally whole.

I felt a telepathic link to each of the Virals.

The missing level. This is it.

The boys grasped it, too. They sent and exchanged thoughts, blown away by this new level of connection. By our effortless communication. It was the rush of a lifetime.

Without thinking, I narrowed my focus to Ben. Peeked behind his shield.

My brain captured a single image: Ben, aboard
Sewee,
deep in conversation.

Noooooooooooooo!

I looked up. Ben cocked his head, unsure what was happening. Then a mental wall slammed into place, blocking access to his thoughts.

Too late. I’d seen the truth. Recognized Ben’s companion.

The stolen memory seared my brain.

Ben had been speaking with the Gamemaster.