by Kathy Reichs
TIME: 10:47 AM
JS: Mr. Goodwin, we’d like to discuss your dealings with a young man from Charleston named Chance Claybourne.
[PAUSE; SUBJECT NON-RESPONSIVE]
JS: Mr. Goodwin? Could you—
AG: Gamemaster.
JS: Excuse me?
AG: My name is The Gamemaster.
JS: Right. Sure. Okay. So . . . Gamemaster, please tell us the nature of your relationship with Chance Claybourne.
AG: There is none.
JS: I don’t understand. You don’t know Mr. Claybourne? Never had any dealings with him?
AG: The boy means nothing to me. He was never part of The Game.
[PAUSE]
BS: But Chance Claybourne was involved in the events leading to your arrest. Are you saying—
AG: Claybourne interfered, and for that he’ll pay. They’ll all pay, in time, I can assure you. But Claybourne is barely an afterthought in the grand scheme of things. An interloper. He was never part of the challenge.
[PAUSE]
JS: What do you know about his friend Victoria Brennan?
[PAUSE]
JS: Uh, Mr. Gamemaster? Did you hear my question?
[PAUSE; SUBJECT NON-RESPONSIVE]
JS: You’re staring down the barrel of some serious charges here. We might be able to help with that, but if you don’t cooperate—
AG: What do you want with her?
JS: That’s our concern. Just tell us what you know.
AG: I know that you’re an imbecile. You and your silent friend, standing over there in the corner. I know that Tory Brennan cheated The Game. I know that she and her little pissant friends belong to me alone.
JS: You say Brennan cheated your game. How?
AG: The Game. The greatest intellectual construct this world has ever seen. A cunning test of brains, stamina, and will. One meant to purify. To find a champion. To anoint a leader for the dark times ahead.
JS: Right. Sure. And Tory Brennan won this game?
[BACKGROUND NOISE][SUBJECT VISIBLY AGITATED]
JS: Take it easy! Keep slamming fists and you’ll land right back in solitary!
AG: She cheated! They all must have cheated! No gang of island brats could be worthy enough to defeat my masterpiece! Far better challengers have tried and failed.
JS: Fine. Fine. You’re a prophet; she’s a cheater. But how did she cheat? What’s so special about this girl?
AG: Not just her. All of them. Hiram Stolowitski. Shelton Devers. Benjamin Blue. There’s something unclean about them. They do things a person shouldn’t be able to.
JS: What things? What did they do? Be specific, man!
[PAUSE][SUBJECT VISIBLY AGITATED]
AG: They moved too fast. And their eyes. I swear they glowed like . . . like . . . demons in the night. It’s as though they can speak without words. The four of them circled me like beasts. [BACKGROUND NOISE] I’m a trained soldier! I know what an ambush looks like!
JS: Take it easy, now.
AG: They tracked me like . . . predators. The rain was . . . lightning blinding my eyes . . . wind gusting, knocking me down, but not those monsters. [GIGGLES] And that damn wolf that follows her around! I swear the girl TALKS to it!
JS: Sit down!
AG: They came from everywhere! EVERYWHERE!
[BACKGROUND NOISE][SUBJECT RESTRAINED BY AGENT ROGERS]
AG: Captain, I’m hit! IED, left side! I lost Houser in the market, and—
BR: Grab his—help me hold him, damn it!
JS: I’m trying!
BR: He’s having a flashback, or—
[BACKGROUND NOISE][FACILITY PERSONNEL ENTER INTERVIEW ROOM]
[SUBJECT REMOVED BY FACILITY PERSONNEL]
[INTERVIEW SUSPENDED FOR TWO HOURS]
TIME: 12:51 PM
JS: This is your last chance, Gamemaster.
AG: [LAUGHS] You think you intimidate me? I served three tours in hell. I took a pound of C4 to the chin in Ramadi. Looked the devil square in the eye. Compared to pissed-off insurgents, you two are pussycats. [PAUSE] Who do you work for, anyway? What anonymous branch of our federal government has questions about a fifteen-year-old girl?
JS: That’s not your concern.
AG: Of course not. You know what? I despise people like you. Fake soldiers, running black-ops crap like this, hiding from the public, using tax dollars to hunt our own citizens. Pretending to do some greater good, when all you’re in it for is the dirty work. I know you, Agent No Name. I worked with men just like you, in the darkest alleys of the world. You people are what’s ruining this country.
JS: Tell us what you know, Goodwin. What you saw. I’m all out of patience.
AG: Two men in black suits. No names, no badges. Just questions.
JS: We’re done here.
AG: I’d never tell you bastards anything. Ever. Tory and her friends belong to me, do you understand? They violated something far greater than whatever your faceless shadow agency spends its time scheming about. Those kids cheated The Game. They broke rules I spent years devising. For that, they are mine, and mine alone.
JS: You’re a nutjob.
AG: [GIGGLES] You realize they’ll eat you alive, don’t you?
JS: What’s that supposed to mean?
AG: You think those kids don’t have teeth? Oh, they do, Agent No Name. I know firsthand. They can bite. Those brats overcame all my obstacles. Defeated every trick, every puzzle. Every trap I set for them. Even to cheat The Game is a stunning accomplishment. [LAUGHS] They’ll tear you fools to pieces.
JS: We can handle ourselves, thanks.
AG: Think what you like. I underestimated them, too. And look at my reward!
[AGENT ROGERS TAKES OVER THE INTERVIEW]
BR: That’s right. You’ll be living inside a box for the rest of your life. Claybourne and Brennan put you there. Forever. This is your one chance at revenge. Why not help us?
AG: Because you’re fools, whoever you are. Whatever murky outfit you work for. You’re not up to the task. That’s my cross to bear, and I’m looking forward to it.
BR: Good luck with that.
[BACKGROUND NOISE]
BR: We’ll learn what we want to know. Whatever secrets are out there, they can’t hide from us. Nothing can hide from us.
AG: [WHISPERED] Be careful what you wish for.
BR: What’s that?
AG: I have nothing else to say.
[END TRANSCRIPT]
I paused before a pair of massive wrought-iron gates.
Morning sunshine knifed between ancient oak trees lining the sidewalk, having just crested the high stone wall surrounding Bolton Preparatory Academy. The air was warm, humid, and filled with chirping songbirds. Typical Charleston in late May.
Idyllic. If your nerves aren’t completely frazzled.
Doves cooed in the branches overhead, as if discussing the merits of my school uniform. I watched them ruffle feathers and bob their heads, enjoying the distraction, unable to keep nervous fingers from pawing through my hair. For a crazy moment I wished we could trade places. It’d be nice having nothing but seeds to worry about.
“We staying out here today?” Hi rubbed his chin as if considering the proposition, his Bolton Prep blazer flipped inside-out with the lining exposed. “Mr. Terenzoni might not be willing to yell his lesson plan out the window.”
I blew out a frustrated breath. “It just feels like we’re wasting time. We should be looking for the Trinity. Who knows what they’ll do next?”
“Education is important, Brennan.” Hi bobbed his head toward the gates. “And besides, we won’t get to investigate so much as a ham sandwich if our parents find out we cut school. I’m all out of excuses these days.”
Shelton hitched his backpack higher onto his shoulders. “Headmaster Pa
ugh is still pretty steamed about the whole kidnapping debacle. Don’t think he’s not watching us. That man would love to send us packing like he did Ben.”
It was true. Bolton’s prickly administrator had never wanted Morris Island kids at his prestigious academy. He’d opposed our LIRI scholarships from the beginning, though not publicly. The old fart would love an excuse to “purify” his institution in favor of more traditional, blue-blooded clientele.
“I know.” Irritation edged my voice. “I’m just picturing our next seven hours, and I’m already out of patience.” A quick glance around, then I stepped closer to Hi and Shelton. “This is serious. The Trinity are the first people to know about our powers.”
“I’m well aware.” Shelton reached for an earlobe. “It gives me the shakes.”
Hi shrugged. “At least they’re Viral, too.”
Shelton’s head reared back. “You think that’s a good thing?”
“Better than the alternative.” Hi tapped his temple. “Whoever the Trinity are, they need to avoid detection as much as we do. They could become lab rats, too.”
Shelton nodded slowly. “Mutually assured destruction. That’s something, at least.”
My lips twisted into a grimace. “But they don’t seem to understand what ‘low profile’ means. And these idiots apparently have a problem with us.”
Hi flapped a hand. “Newborns. Always thinking they know everything!”
“Can you get serious for one minute?” Shelton jabbed a finger into Hi’s chest, eyes jittery behind his sparkling lenses. “We’ve gotta find this crew and . . . and . . . I don’t know. Shut ’em up. Or something.”
“Unhand me, sir!” Hi brushed Shelton aside. “Although you make a good point. Well, no, actually. You make a terrible point, but it illuminates a good one.”
Hiram’s eyes found mine. “What do we do when we find these clowns?”
The bell rang.
Fortuitous, since I had no answer.
I sighed, then squared my shoulders. “Let’s just get through the damn day.”
• • •
Ella tapped my tray, then pointed to hers, the other hand covering a mouthful of Little Debbie snack cake. “Wan thum?”
“I’m good.” My eyes narrowed with disapproval. “You know how processed that stuff is, right? You’re basically eating chemicals.”
Ella nodded seriously, lips smeared with crumbs. “Ith terrbul.”
“Goofball.” I turned back to the chicken Caesar salad Whitney had prepared the night before. It was typically delicious. Maybe she should become a cook?
In a fancy French restaurant. In France. Far, far away.
“What’s that smile about?” Shelton asked good-naturedly, his first words since sitting down for lunch. Wildly uncomfortable around Ella, he usually stayed clammed up.
“I just had a wonderful thought.”
Then I felt bad. Whitney wasn’t going anywhere, and she really was trying. She’d learned to make this salad specifically for me after overhearing I liked it.
I needed to be more charitable. More accepting of other people’s faults.
But a girl can dream, right?
“I like thinking about things, too,” Hi blurted. “Big time.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Ella had the opposite effect on Hiram—whenever she joined our table, he’d start talking and couldn’t stop, and it rarely made sense.
“I don’t even need a thinking cap,” Hi continued, his hazel-brown eyes widening slightly with an intuitive awareness that he was making a mistake. “I’m anti-headwear on general principle. Never would’ve made it in the fifties. Hats tend to ruin the ’do, if you know what I mean. Except at temple, of course. But that’s God’s hat I’m wearing in there, and we don’t argue with the big guy.”
Hi laughed overloud at his own statement, then dropped his head. “Fedoras are cool, though.”
I stared at Hiram in awe.
What a pretty girl can do to boys. Amazing.
“Fedowas aw coo.” The last snack cake filled Ella’s mouth.
At that moment Jason Taylor entered the cafeteria. Spotting me, he hurried to join us.
My hand lifted in a wave. Froze halfway as I noticed who was with him.
I wasn’t the only one thrown.
“What’s Jason doing with Madison?” Shelton eyed the pair like they were incoming smart bombs. “They a thing now?”
“You didn’t hear?” Ella took a swig of her Coke, then leaned in conspiratorially. “They showed up at Khalid’s party together last weekend.” She flashed a mock-stern look at me. “The one you no-showed, I might add.”
“Sorry. Something came up.” Since Chance’s bombshell about a new supervirus, I hadn’t been much of a social butterfly.
Conversation ceased as the duo arrived. I put on my fake smile. After months of practice at home on Whitney, it was virtually bulletproof.
“Hey guys,” Jason said in greeting. He’s a big, muscular kid, with classic Nordic features—pale skin, ice-blue eyes, and snowy, white-blond hair. The only thing missing was Thor’s hammer. Jason’s a good-looking guy by anyone’s account, and well-liked by everyone, but that morning his usual easy grin was noticeably absent.
Jason’s gaze flicked from Ella, to Shelton, and then to Hi, before landing on me. “Got a second, Tory?” His hands worked, as if he could barely contain something.
Totally out of character. There are tree sloths more uptight than Jason Taylor.
Madison practically hid behind Jason’s shoulder, anxiously twirling her long auburn hair. She flashed a meek finger wave, but didn’t speak, her eyes finding the floor.
I suppressed a sigh. Nothing would ever make Madison comfortable around me. I’d done plenty enough to ensure that.
“Um, okay.” My head tilted slightly. “Alone?”
He nodded sharply. “I think that’d be best. Outside?”
“Sure.”
Hmm. Something’s up.
The pair spun and beelined for the door, leaving me to hurry after. As we exited the cafeteria, Madison’s fingers slipped into Jason’s hand. He squeezed them tightly.
My eyeballs nearly burst.
What!?
An uncomfortable feeling curdled my gut.
Logically, this shouldn’t have bothered me. I’d been politely deflecting Jason’s advances for the better part of a year. He was a great friend—one of the few people I could count on outside my pack—but there was no spark. No magic. No tingle in the toes. And it had pained me to let him down so often.
If he’d finally set his sights on another, it could do wonders for our friendship.
But . . . Madison Dunkle? She’s rich. Spoiled. Pampered. Entitled.
Could a girl be more different from me?
Lost in thought, I was nearly clubbed by the swinging door. Catching it awkwardly with one palm, I stepped out into the courtyard. Jason and Madison were waiting beside a stone bench facing Bolton’s small pond.
The same bench where I’d spied on Chance and Madison weeks before.
When I tried to read her mind, and she noticed. And freaked.
The memory stung. I’d always felt bad about it.
What I’d attempted that afternoon—to force my way into Madison’s head—was abhorrent. Disgusting. A violation. I understood that now. In a way, I owed Madison a debt, despite all the horrible things she’d done to me. When you boiled it down, I’d been pretty terrible right back.
Life is too short for petty jealousies.
My steps slowed.
Is that what I was feeling? Jealousy?
And what did they want to discuss privately?
I jerked to a halt.
Dear Lord, they don’t want to talk about them dating each other, do they? Like they feel the need to tell me or something? Plea
se no. I’ll die.
Shrugging off shivers, I approached and waited, feeling decidedly uncomfortable.
Jason spoke first. “Sorry for being so cryptic, but it’s hard to get you alone, and what Madison needs to tell you should be kept between us.”
Blood rushed to my face. “No, really. I appreciate the thought, but you guys don’t—”
“Someone’s asking questions about you,” Madison whispered.
That stopped me cold. “What? Me?”
She nodded, glancing around to make sure we were alone. “You and Chance.”
My mind reeled. One hand rose to my forehead as my pulse took off like a speed skater.
“Who would be . . . Why would anyone . . .”
I flinched. The Trinity. They’re researching us!
Then a second thought crashed into the first.
Madison must’ve spoken to one. She can help me track them down.
“I don’t know who they are.” Madison nervously smoothed her plaid skirt. “Or what . . . information . . . or whatever . . . that they might’ve wanted about you.”
I watched her closely. She wouldn’t meet my gaze.
Madison had always suspected I was different. She’d experienced things that scared her.
I could tell she was thinking of those things now.
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, then quickly dropped again.
I crossed my arms. Not aggressively, but not welcoming, either. I knew she was dying to know why someone would inquire about me, but this was a road we simply couldn’t go down.
“Not my business,” Madison blurted finally, her face flushing scarlet.
She looked to Jason, who nodded encouragingly. It seemed to lend her strength.
Madison took a deep breath, then continued in a stronger voice. “I was horrible to you last year. Your friends, too. It was stupid, and mean, and I regret it. You’ve been nothing but nice to me since I joined the soccer team, and you didn’t have to be. I want to repay the favor. So I told Jason what happened, and he thought you should know.”