Queen Killer

by M. H. Johnson

  Endless Online: Wildcards #1

  Queen Killer

  M H Johnson

  Copyright © 2019 by M H Johnson

  Cover art by Andrey Vasilchenko

  Typography by Bonnie L. Price

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and events are the work of the author’s imagination and all locations are either fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons or events is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Thank You

  Additional Links

  Prologue

  It was the perfect afternoon.

  The sun shone brilliantly overhead, a cool breeze refreshing the kids playing a pickup game at the school basketball courts, classes done for the day.

  Final point of the match, and John smelled death in the air.

  Terror and excitement warred within him.

  Would he be ready this time?

  He never had been before.

  "John, your move."

  John blinked at the strange thoughts echoing through his mind, but it didn't stop him from spinning around to catch his friend's toss before weaving past the opposition, pivoting around a final pair of varsity players eager to crush the amateurs on the court, the ball leaving his hands before the inevitable hip check could foul his shot.

  His ball soared past outstretched hands and sailed perfectly into the net, everyone cheering the end to the last pickup game of the year. Even the varsity players his friends had challenged gave nods of respect.

  “Nice shot, John. Too bad you never joined the team,” said one of players, giving him a final wave before heading towards the gym lockers.

  John couldn't help grinning at that, knowing the real secret to his team’s success wasn’t how skilled he was with the ball, but how he and his best friend played off each other’s strengths so well it was almost like they could read each other’s minds, a single glance all they needed to communicate strategies that left their opponents in the dust.

  He spent a happy moment just savoring their hard-fought victory, half his teammates already talking about the guild raid they were planning later that evening. And John would normally be right in the center of that conversation, but today he found his eyes drawn toward a particular cluster of spectators, his heart skipping a beat when he saw what he would swear to anyone was the cutest girl in the entire school.

  A vision of golden curls and violet eyes that had fascinated him since their freshman year, she just happened to catch his gaze at that very moment, favoring him with a thoughtful little smile.

  Of course, that's when he tripped and fell on his ass to the smirks and chuckles of whoever caught his spectacular air stumble. And John was laughing right along with them, playing it off like it was nothing, but he could feel his cheeks burning, hating himself for darting a glance Emily’s way a second time. Her friends might be laughing at him playing the fool, but all Emily did was catch his eyes and grin.

  “Nice one!" mocked his best friend, flashing an evil grin as he gave John a high-five. "Now why don't you go talk to her? You've been ogling that girl all semester."

  His friend’s ribbing was good-natured, of course. They had just won the game with his three point shot, and John knew his heart was racing from Emily's smile just as much as it was from the sweet rush of victory.

  John swallowed, oddly hesitant till he felt his friend's gentle nudge leading him forward, and there he was, suddenly before Emily and her friends. He felt his cheeks flush as her curious violet eyes met his own. They might be contacts, but he couldn't deny the look was stunning, especially with the way her golden curls framed her features.

  "Nice shot," she said as her friends discretely stepped back, pretending to ignore the pair of them, making it so much easier. But his heart was still pounding a mile a minute. And when she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, smiling as if she was savoring his scent, he found himself at a complete loss for words. He was terrified she was mocking him after he had worked up such a sweat. But the look on her face left him utterly speechless.

  All his clever lines practiced so earnestly in front of the mirror that had been on the tip of his tongue just two minutes ago were now utterly forgotten. He stared into Emily’s increasingly bemused eyes as a hot flush crept up his cheeks, struggling desperately for something to say.

  "So..." Emily said, tilting her head, giving him a considering look. "My friends are getting together this Saturday to celebrate our upcoming graduation, but I thought it would be kind of sad not to see some fresh faces, don’t you agree?”

  John looked around, catching the eyes of his best friend Mitch, nodding his way before heading back to the lockers to wash up and head home.

  "Oh, you’re inviting the team?"

  She flashed a teasing smile. “It was going to be a girls' night out, but if you guys won… yeah. We wouldn't mind celebrating with our classmates, one last time."

  There was something wistful in her gaze, and part of him quailed that he was only talking to her now, when they were both less than a month away from graduating. But at least he’d finally found the courage to break the ice.

  "That sounds awesome!" he said, before clearing his throat at the twinkle in her eyes. "I mean, I'll let the team know. Where are we going to meet up?"

  "My place. Pick me up at seven. And don't worry about your teammates."

  He blinked, dumbfounded, as she gave him a wink before sauntering back to her friends who were gazing wide-eyed at Emily and stealing sly glances of John, giggling into their smartphones.

  It was everything John could do not to shout for joy, walking on cloud nine as he headed back to the lockers, amazed by how much his life had changed for the better. The summer before his freshman year, with his horrible memory and inability to focus, his parents had been afraid of him washing out completely. But with the strings his father had pulled, he had been accepted as a test candidate for what would one day be the first boosting implant ever to hit the market. And in a twist of serendipity he knew he had no right to expect, his Hippocampus had synergized perfectly with the device.

  No negative symptoms, no delayed immune response, no awful side-effects, nothing. His friends might have enjoyed freaking themselves out with all those leaked videos of incarcerated test subjects clawing their eyes out, driven mad by their implants, but he had happily laughed off the poorly made shock films, recognizing them for the crap they were. He might be legally bound never to speak of his own enhancement, but he knew there was absolutely nothing to worry about.

  And when Cs and Ds became As and Bs because he could finally retain what he spent all night trying to memorize, he knew his life had finally taken a turn for the better.
His innate intelligence might not be any higher, but he had always been good at figuring things out, even if he used to draw a complete blank whenever he took a test. And now he could recall with almost perfect clarity whatever subject he had studied the night before.

  Best of all, he was graduating with a free ride to the college of his dreams, and his closest friend was coming along with him. If things went according to plan, he and Mitch would be running their own startup company one day, designing mobile RPGs every bit as sophisticated as high-end computer games had been just a few short years ago.

  It had done nothing for his shyness, of course. Mitch was always the one to coax him off the computer to spar with him or just have fun. The pair had joined the local HEMA group in addition to their own boxing and wrestling, learning how to fence with blade and buckler among other historical weapons. John had been amazed at how light and well-balanced real swords were, nothing like how they were depicted in most games.

  Mitch and basketball were the only reasons he got out of the house at all. And now, with the winning shot of the last pickup game he would ever play, he had been asked out by the girl of his dreams.

  Who said life couldn't be sweet?

  Of course, that’s when everything went to shit.

  1

  The claxon cries of emergency sirens from the town nearby washed over the school. All the students still at the campus froze, exchanging terrified glances with one another.

  Everyone knew what it meant.

  "John, what the fuck! Get inside, man! Get inside!"

  John turned, Catching Mitch's gaze. His friend's normal expression of jaded amusement had transformed into something raw and primal. If his normally unflappable friend was looking two steps away from panic—John's gut twisted with sudden dread, knowing this was all real.

  This was actually happening.

  "John!"

  Compelled by the urgency in his friend's voice, he dashed for the school entrance.

  That's when he heard the screams behind him.

  A halcyon spring day had transformed to panic, and for a heartbeat, he thought he saw a familiar swath of golden hair underneath the press of frightened kids who were all dashing for the gated entrance.

  As if that would do a lick of good.

  "John!" Mitch's voice, urgent.

  John felt the vibration of the phone on his hip.

  The one he never bothered registering for school, had never pulled out and checked even once in his life, save at his father's request.

  It had never so much as beeped before.

  Now it was vibrating non-stop.

  "John, what the hell are you doing?"

  No time. John wasn't even thinking when he raced for the panicked crowd by the gates that had nearly trampled several students to death.

  John glared at the football captain he had tried to shove aside, his sparring practice coming to good use as he ducked and weaved away from the jock’s furious fists.

  "Think, man! Running won't do shit, and you assholes are trampling the girls!"

  The jock froze, fist upraised, glaring at the score of panicked kids crowding around them.

  "Shit," the player said, large beefy hands reaching into the crowd, helping John get Emily to her feet before wading back in and pulling free a dazed Asian girl John immediately recognized as one of Emily's inner circle of friends. Lucy, he thought her name was.

  "Oh God, they were trampling us!" a shaken, slightly bruised, but otherwise okay Emily sobbed a few seconds later.

  "I know. Everyone’s panicking, but the important thing is you and Lucy are going to be okay. Just relax and take a deep breath,” John said, sharing a quick nod with the football captain while an angry-looking Mitch hurried over.

  The siren's pitch had only intensified.

  "John, you know what that means! If these idiots want to flee the school..."

  "Don't say it, please don't say it," sobbed a now fully alert and terrified Lucy.

  Emily swallowed, flashing John a shaky smile. He winced at the bruise on her forehead, grateful she hadn’t suffered worse. "Thanks, John, Carl. I think you guys probably saved our lives."

  "John!" Mitch's voice was urgent.

  John caught the football player's gaze. "Name's John."

  The player nodded. "Carl. So, what the fuck do we do now?"

  "Come back to the school with us. There's a bomb shelter connected to that abandoned teacher's lounge in the back of the school," John softly said, everyone's eyes save Mitch lighting up.

  "No shit," Carl said. "We got to tell everyone."

  Mitch curtly shook his head. "That's a no go, Carl. You think this crush is bad? There's limited capacity in the shelter, and you saw what just happened to the girls. Unless you want to be responsible for multiple students getting crushed in a panic, you’ll keep it to yourself.”

  Carl's brow furrowed, his powerful frame effortlessly holding Lucy as they made their way into the school, quickly passing a number of terrified and panicked students, those who weren't huddled in confusion and despair. "That's bullshit. We’ve gotta save as many lives as we can," Carl muttered, though he said it quietly enough that no one else seemed to hear.

  Once they got to the teacher's lounge, Carl tried to force the door open, eyes widening when he toppled to the ground. "What the hell? That’s a solid steel frame! This isn't like any other door in our school."

  Mitch smirked. "Damn right. And you know where our professors normally hang out when they want to catch a discrete smoke by the air filters. It's a long walk for their lazy asses to get back here. No one even uses this lounge because the other's got all the amenities and it’s close to the hub of our school. Hell, I don't think anyone even has access, save the principal. Supposedly."

  Carl frowned. "Then how the hell do we get in?"

  To which Mitch pulled out a key identical to John's own, both of them first making sure no one else was gazing their way.

  "Well how about that." Carl whistled when they entered, impressed by the unexpected size of the room.

  John grabbed his still buzzing phone, knowing he didn’t dare ignore it any longer.

  "It's me."

  "Status."

  Only at that moment did the severity of their situation truly sink in.

  His father wasn't berating him for not having picked up, didn't even bother asking him how he was doing or show any trace of emotion at all.

  John wasn't speaking to his father, but to Lieutenant Colonel Reacher.

  Which could only mean one thing.

  Panic he had thought utterly mastered began to bubble up once more. John suddenly feared he was no better than all the terrified students desperately fleeing their school.

  "I'm safe. We're heading to the shelter now."

  "Change of plans."

  John blinked at those words, hearing a sudden faint hum overhead.

  "Dad?"

  "Head to the front entrance of the main school building. Chopper's coming to pick you up."

  John swallowed, catching the haunted gazes of his friends and classmates. "Sure, Dad. But um... better make room for four more."

  A long pause.

  "Who?"

  "Mitch, of course, but also three others including my girlfriend. Do I have to say I'm not leaving them behind?"

  John felt his cheeks burn with Emily's gasp. He knew everyone was staring at him. He didn't care.

  At last, his father spoke. "Is the girl's name Emily Calvar?"

  John lurched, utterly dumbstruck. He would have stumbled on his ass if Emily hadn't braced his arm. And the look in her eyes... she had overheard as well.

  How the hell did his father know that?

  "Uh... yes. How the hell did you know that?"

  "No more than four, John. You tell no one else. You tell your friends nothing else. Are we clear?"

  John swallowed and nodded. "Crystal," he said, and the phone clicked off.

  "Well, shit," said Carl. "Why do I get the feeling you guys ar
e seriously connected?"

  Mitch smirked. "Because we are." He turned to John. "What's the plan?"

  "Out front." John caught the football player's eye. "We're all still probably dead, but at least this way..."

  "Yeah, I got it. We're in overtime and it's a Hail Mary pass. Don't worry, I won't say a fucking word."

  "Good." John turned to Mitch. "Our dads are going with plan B."

  Mitch paled. "Shit."

  John nodded. "Pretty much, let’s get moving." He turned to Lucy and Emily. "I know this is a lot to take in."

  Lucy shot him an almost adorable glare, though her eyes were still red with tears. "Yes, we get it. Your families have major pull. If you can save our asses? We're best friends for life. Let's just get the fuck out of here!"

  "More than friends," Emily whispered, flashing John an anxious smile.

  John felt his cheeks flush as they made their way at a fast walk, ignoring the angry, blustering teacher who was clearly panicked and had focused on them to yell at, Emily squeezing John's hand tightly the whole way. If only he wasn't terrified of being flash-fried in the next handful of minutes, he'd be walking on cloud nine.

  "Hey, I told you kids to halt, damn it!"

  John's eyes widened as he heard the snap of a folding stick extended to full length, only then taking in the wild eyes of Mr. Harveson, who John was almost certain shouldn't even be here. Hadn't he been kicked out last year?

  The former teacher glared. "All of you get to the auditorium. Now!"

  The girls whimpered. The former professor's gaze was chilling. Obsidian black. Almost no sclera was showing.

  "I'm afraid we're going to have to pass, coach," Carl said, not even breaking his stride.