Code

CHAPTER 39

THE NEXT DAY, Bolton’s halls buzzed with talk of Hurricane Katelyn.

“The projections have all jogged to the northeast.” Hi was reading weather.com on his iPhone. “Winds are down to Cat Three, with possible landfalls now including most of North Carolina.”

“So long as it’s North Cack.” Shelton shut his locker. “Don’t forget where we live, bro. A good storm surge could put Morris Island completely underwater.”

“The good news is—” Hi placed a faux-comforting hand on my shoulder, “—the hurricane won’t strike until the weekend, at the earliest. The deb ball is safe.”

“Wonderful.” I rolled my eyes. “I’d hate to have my execution stayed.”

I was twirling my combination lock when Ben appeared.

“Anything new?” He stepped close to avoid being overheard. “About The Game, I mean. The deadline’s tomorrow night.”

“The castle connection is all I’ve got,” I said. “But it feels right. It can’t be coincidence that zero hour falls at the exact time of the ball.”

“Why not?” Shelton argued. “If we’ve just randomly fallen into some wackjob’s trap, the timing might have nothing to do with our social calendar.”

“Even if we weren’t targeted originally,” I countered, “the Gamemaster certainly knows about us now. The photos, remember? It’s not a stretch to think he learned our schedules.”

“The very first cache sent us to Pinckney,” Hi pointed out. “So the Gamemaster picked that destination before we started playing. That means one of three things.” He raised a finger for each possibility. “We were selected from the beginning. The bomb location changed to The Citadel after he started following us. Or Tory’s castle theory simply doesn’t fly.”

I paused to assess Hi’s reasoning. “Or the debutante ball was always the final objective, and our attendance is a fluke.”

“So now coincidence is back in play?” Ben derided. “Make up your mind.”

Ben’s jaw was tense. It seemed like the pressure was getting to him.

He wasn’t the only one. Every minute that slipped by amped my anxiety level. What if we weren’t up to the Gamemaster’s challenge? If we failed, it could cost the lives of people walking this very hallway. The stakes were staggering.

Shelton spoke softly. “There’s nothing solid pointing to The Citadel.”

He was right. But every fiber of my being was screaming that my hunch was correct. Which meant, logically, that we were chosen to play The Game.

The notion filled me with dread.

“Let’s talk at lunch.” I started down the hall. “We’ll figure it out, once and for all.”

The morning came and went. Most Bolton students were attending the ball in some capacity, and gossip was everywhere. I overheard dozens of whispered conversations about escort selections and rumored dress prices. When lunch finally arrived, I headed outside to meet the other Virals.

As if to deny the possibility of an onrushing tempest, the weather was a crisp, cloudless sixty-five. I circled to the rear of the grounds, expecting the area near the pond to be empty.

I was wrong.

Madison and Chance were seated on a bench with their backs to the building. She was speaking animatedly, hands fluttering to emphasize her points. Chance contributed the occasional nod.

I would’ve given my life savings to eavesdrop.

Then do it. You know you can.

My pulse quickened. Should I? A quick three-sixty confirmed that no one else was close by. What’s the point of superpowers if you never use them?

I slipped behind a tree.

SNAP.

The flare came easily, boosting my senses into hyperspace.

A thousand scents flooded my nostrils. Sticky, pitchy pine. Algae-coated pond water. A slight hint of peanut butter. My eyes tracked fruit flies swarming in the branches overhead, dancing among bright arrows of sunlight. I tasted a tang on the breeze, loamy dust mixed with sweet hydrangea. Felt the wind caress individual hairs on my arms.

Most importantly, I heard two voices arguing quietly.

Peering around the tree, I studied my quarry. Madison’s shoulders were tense and her back was rigid. A ring-decked hand kept worrying her hair.

Nice rocks. Keep talking.

“You’re not taking me seriously!” Frustration sharpened Madison’s words.

“Of course I am.” Chance said calmly, eyes never leaving the pond. “I don’t share everything with you, but I haven’t been idle.”

“Do you really think—” Madison’s voice dropped to a shrill whisper.

I inched forward, straining to overhear.

“Don’t you think there’s something freaky about her? Like, for real? That she’s not normal?” Madison’s delicate features contorted into a grimace. “Other than being a total loser, I mean.”

Chance took a long time to answer. “Enough with the petty insults. You saw what you saw. I have my own suspicions. But neither of us has any proof.”

“Tory’s possessed.” Madison shook with the vehemence of her words. “Or, like, a witch or something. I saw evil in her eyes. It wasn’t natural, I just know it!”

A tremor ran through me.

My worst fears, confirmed.

Madison had seen the flare in my eyes. Chance had witnessed much more than that. And here they were, together, discussing me. Making plans.

Nightmare.

What did Chance mean, that he hadn’t been idle? I had to know more.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Hi and Shelton stroll from the building. They angled for a bench beyond the trees screening me from Chance and Madison. A moment later Ben joined them. Facing the opposite direction, the trio pulled sandwiches from their lunch bags.

Neither group was looking my way.

I felt a tingle in my brainpan. My pack was close, though not complete.

No. Crazy.

The idea scared me, but I acted before reconsidering.

Closing my eyes, I sought the empty space in my mind. Visualized the flaming cords connecting me to the other Virals. And there they were. Fiery lines, faint, weakened by distance and the fact that the boys were not flaring. Coop was no more than a blur in the ether.

You’re not at full strength. This might be a bad idea.

Ignoring my own good advice, I tried something I’d never done.

I opened my eyes. Narrowed my focus to the couple on the bench by the pond.

Chance and Madison. Madison and Chance.

Projecting my consciousness in their direction, I searched for their minds.

Heat surged through me. Shards of glass pierced my skull and raked across my cerebral cortex. Ignoring the pain, I forced my thoughts forward, outward, untethered from my body.

The world grew hazy. Grainy. My head swam. I shut my eyes again.

Two bubbles appeared in the subliminal void.

I forced my mind toward them. Contacted one.

A deafening buzz. Then Madison’s voice exploded inside my head. Thunderous. Words too garbled to understand.

It’s working! I can hear her thoughts!

Someone shrieked.

SNUP.

My eyes flew open.

I wasn’t sure if the scream came from outside or within.

Madison slapped at herself as if covered in spiders. Her head whipped wildly, like a hunted animal.

I clung to the tree, shaking, thankful it hid me from the duo by the pond. Glancing over one shoulder, I saw the other Virals staring at me in shock.

My consciousness recoiled like a broken rubber band.

I tumbled into darkness.