Code

CHAPTER 46

CHANCE SMILED COLDLY from the other side of the grate.

“Trapped in a cage, are we? Seems to be a specialty of yours.”

Ice ran through my veins as I hurried through the passage. The others followed at my back.

Chance Claybourne.

Down here in the bowels of the building, where he had no business being.

Where only the Gamemaster knew we’d be.

How could I have been so dense?

“You!” Shelton shouted. “You’re a monster. Let us out!”

Hi covered his face with his hands. “Man, I did not see that coming.”

“What’s going on?” Jason called from behind me. “Claybourne, bust us loose!”

“Chance, why?” I could barely form the words. “All those people!”

His face pinched. “What people?”

I pressed close to grate. “You have to disarm the device!”

“Device?” Chance squinted. “Victoria, I have no idea what you’re talking about. How’d you lock yourself in there?”

“Stop lying, you turd!” Shelton’s voice crackled with fury and fear. “Murderer! Lunatic!”

“A former mental patient, too,” Hi said bitterly. “God, why didn’t I see it? We knew the Gamemaster was no-joke crazy. Plus Chance hates us, and has all that money.” He smacked his forehead. “I’m such an idiot!”

“That’s the last time I’ll be called a ‘murderer’ by you freaks,” Chance snapped. “Or ‘crazy.’ Now what the hell is this? What’s a Gamemaster? Why are you down here?”

Doubt crept in. Chance sounded genuinely confused.

“Why are you down here?” I shot back.

“I followed you. Your exit wasn’t exactly subtle, stampeding past everyone on the stairs. And now I see Jason’s involved too. I want to know what’s going on.”

“Wait.” Shelton pointed with both hands. “You’re not the Gamemaster?”

“Enough, you moron! What absurd game are you playing? Tonight of all nights.”

I believed him. Chance really was clueless. He wasn’t the Gamemaster.

But he might just save our asses.

“Listen up!” I said. “There’s a machine in this room that will poison everyone upstairs. We’re trying to shut it down. You have to free us.”

“Poison people?” Chance’s gaze bounced from face to face. “Like, kill them? Is this some kind of nerd joke?”

“No, you jackass!” Ben elbowed forward and slammed the grate with both hands. “Everyone upstairs could die in the next few minutes. Just do what she says!”

“It’s true,” Jason added. “Get this thing open as fast as you can.”

Chance’s lips parted, but I cut off whatever he planned to say.

“Please. Trust me. I’ll explain everything later.”

I saw a thousand questions burning in Chance’s eyes.

“Please!” I slapped the sides of my stained white dress.

“Fine!” Chance stepped back and examined the barrier from his side. “This is some type of sliding door, like in a garage.” Pause. “Two clamps are locking the runners in place. I’ll have to release them.”

“Just do it!” I ran back into the ventilation room, the boys on my heels.

Under the Plexiglas, a timer was counting down.

15 … 14 … 13 …

I stared at the screen I couldn’t touch. “What do we do?”

Hi wiped sweat from his brow. “I guess we wait.”

A loud clanging kicked up behind us.

Hurry, Chance!

The five of us stared at the device, hoping we weren’t too late.

The HVAC units continued to roar.

I looked at Shelton. He was tracking the clear tubes exiting the rear of the Gamemaster’s box. “Those feed into the duct for the unit marked ‘second floor.’ The gas will shoot straight up to the ballroom.”

“We bust the tubes,” Ben said. “Problem solved.”

“And have the poison discharge in here?” Hi looked incredulous. “You got some kind of a death wish? Chance has to clear the doorway first.”

Shelton’s voice cracked. “So it’s either us or them?”

The prospect of such a choice shocked everyone to silence.

Jason finally spoke. “We can’t let the gas into the AC. No matter what.”

Horrific images strobed in my mind. Debutantes collapsing. Panicked guests scrambling for doors. Kit and Whitney, gasping, choking, struggling to breathe. Bodies littering the gleaming parquet.

“We won’t,” I swore. “We’re going to win this sick game.”

The HVACs shifted to a low humming. Red lights blinked on both units.

Hi paled. “Oh crap. Are we out of time?”

My eyes shot to the tubes. “I don’t think the gas released.”

Ben pressed close to the chain-link and peered inside the corral. “The HVACs have switched to standby. AC isn’t blowing right now.”

My eyes flicked from the tubes to the timer.

3 … 2 … 1 …

Horns blared from speakers inside the box. The sound morphed into a whimsical, circus-like tune.

The question dissolved from the screen. A new message took its place.

Type the Magic Word to disarm the device!

A touchscreen keyboard appeared at the bottom of the display.

Above it, a cursor blinked.

The timer reset to five minutes and began counting down.

A cacophony of beeps and shrieks replaced the music.

My eyes flew back to the tubes. Still clear.

On the screen, a second line scrolled below the first.

Don’t be wrong, or pay The Price!

Jason looked at me, eyes hopeful. “You know the magic word, right?”

“No. Yes. I mean … we must already know the answer, but have to figure out what it is. That’s how The Game works.”

Jason locked his hands on his head. “This isn’t a game, Tory!”

“How do we enter anything?” Shelton pushed against the plastic barrier sealing off the niche. “We can’t reach the screen.”

I ignored him, tried to block out the piercing racket blasting from the device.

Combine what you’ve learned to uncover The Danger.

“What led us here?” I asked.

“Your castle theory,” Hi said. “Along with the specific date and time.”

“No, I mean tonight.” I answered my own question. “We found the sunburst symbol upstairs, and again on the electrical room door.”

“That led us to the red balloon.” Shelton slapped the clown face stamped onto the box. “And this nightmare.”

Combine what you’ve learned.

My brain formed a synapse. “He’s using elements from earlier clues.”

Hi yanked my list from his pocket. “So what’s left?”

“Several of these factors are already in play.” I read aloud. “Castle. Sunburst. Bromomethane.”

“This box wants a magic word,” Ben said. “Like a code. The Gamemaster’s first letter—the one on Loggerhead—was encrypted. Maybe that’s a connection.”

“But there’s no message to decipher!” Shelton wailed. “Nothing to decode.”

My mind scrambled for links, but the clanging in the passage, combined with the grating static, kept breaking my concentration. “I can’t hear myself think!”

“The noise!” Shelton squealed.

“It’s a distraction,” Hi said. “And we’re down to three minutes.”

“No, listen! The volume is going up as the clock runs down. Maybe the sounds aren’t random.”

“Listen for a pattern.” But all I heard was an atonal mess.

“Dots and dashes!” Shelton cried. “The audio is the message!”

“Can you crack it?” Hi asked. “Because that’d be really useful right now.”

Shelton’s eyes closed. His lips moved silently as he listened. “It’s Morse code. First one my dad taught me. I got this.”

“I can help,” Ben said eagerly. “I know some, too.”

Shelton froze, head cocked to one side. Sweat beaded his temples.

I watched the timer.

Ten seconds passed. Twenty. Thirty.

Come on, Devers. You own stuff like this.

“Two words,” Shelton said finally. “Repeating every few seconds. The first letter is definitely H.”

Ben nodded. “I have H and then I, but can’t get the next one.”

Shelton scratched his cheek nervously. “This might take a bit.”

“Two and a half minutes,” Hi mumbled.

“There’s no signal down here.” Jason was waving his cell. “I can’t get online.”

“Quiet!” Shelton ordered.

Everyone shut up. For long moments the only sounds were the shrill static pumping from the device, the humming of the HVACs, and the metallic hammering reverberating down the passage.

“Third is an M.” Shelton jammed his glasses back into place. “Then another I, but after that I’m stuck. I haven’t done this in years. I don’t remember what a single dot means!”

H. I. M. I.

I rifled my vocabulary. Couldn’t find a single fit.

“I have a dictionary app!” Hi typed frantically on his iPhone. “Nothing starts with himi—”

Another synapse. My head nearly exploded.

“The puzzle box! What was its Japanese name?”

Shelton began dancing on the balls of his feet. “Um … um …”

“Himcho-Taco?” Hi guessed. “Hiro-Bono?”

“Himitsu-Bako.” Shelton beamed. “That’s it!”

“Hurry!” Ben said. “Type it in!”

My fingertips smacked the Plexiglas shield. “I still can’t reach the keyboard!”

“Two minutes,” Hi reported hoarsely. “There has to be a way to open the glass.”

My fingers curled into fists.

Think!

More gray cells linked hands in my brain.

“That’s not the magic word!” I squawked. “Himitsu-Bako is two words, anyway. But it must be a clue to opening the shield.”

“Move.” Shelton leaned over the box, flexed his fingers, then pressed down on the edges of the plastic barrier. “We got into the puzzle box by pushing each side, then easing the top section—”

The Plexiglas slid back.

Everyone shouted in triumph.

“But what’s the answer?” Ben said. “What’s the magic word?”

“We’ve got one shot.” Hi jerked free his bow tie and loosened his collar. “Anyone have a guess?”

All eyes shifted to me.

“Can I see my notes?” I tried to keep my voice from shaking.

Hi passed them to me. “Ninety seconds, Tor.”

I shut out the world. Reviewed every task the Gamemaster had given us. Tried to create order from chaos.

Where had the Gamemaster sent us? What were the keys?

Castle Pinckney—we’d opened a puzzle box and cracked a coded message.

The Ocean Course—we’d solved a chemical equation and deciphered the picture.

Mepkin Abbey—we’d identified a statue and the symbol on its shroud.

“Only one minute left.” Hi was deathly pale. “Time to give something a shot.”

I ignored him. Kept sorting data.

Combine what you’ve learned to uncover The Danger.

What have we used?

The sunburst. Morse code. Himitsu-Bako. Bromomethane.

Symbol. Code. Puzzle. Equation.

What did that leave?

“Thirty seconds.”

“Tory, we have to try something!” Ben stepped up to the panel. “Now!”

Combine what you’ve learned to uncover The Danger.

We never used the equation.

“Bromomethane.” I was sure. “It’s the missing piece.”

No one moved. Enter the wrong thing, and we doomed the people upstairs.

The situation felt like a bad joke: five teenagers, dressed in formal wear, locked in a basement, trying to defuse a poison gas machine.

Yet it was very real. Lives depended on getting this right.

And we were finally, totally, and completely out of time.

“Fifteen seconds.” Hi swallowed audibly.

“I’ll do it.” Ben reached for the screen. “Tell me how to spell it.”

Hi called out the letters. Shelton covered his face, unable to watch. Jason closed his eyes and mumbled a prayer.

As I watched Ben’s fingers, my universe narrowed to the blinking cursor skipping across the screen.

Something was wrong.

What?

13 … 12 … 11 …

What?

10 … 9 … 8 …

We never used the equation.

“Here goes nothing.” Ben crossed himself. Reached for the keyboard.

A voice screamed inside my head.

The equation!

“STOP!”

Ben’s finger froze.

I shoved him aside.

6 … 5 … 4 …

Hammering backspace, I wiped out Ben’s entry and tapped a new sequence as fast as my fingers could fly. Pressed enter.

3 … 2 …

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The deafening static ceased.

The timer flickered, went blank.

Accepted

.

Everyone gasped with relief.

“What did you type?” Shelton demanded.

“CH3BR. The formula led us to Kiawah, not the chemical name.”

Within the box, metal scraped metal. I heard a series of clicks.

The HVACs shut down.

The screen filled with bouncing red balloons. The horns returned. Fiery letters spelled out a single word.

“We did it!” Shelton pumped his fists, then gave Hi a flying chest-bump.

Jason and Ben high-fived like crazy. Then they froze, realizing exactly what they were doing. A beat passed, then the two boys nodded and shook hands. Hi and Shelton stared in disbelief.

I closed my eyes, too relieved to celebrate.

“What’s happening?” Chance’s voice carried from the passage. “These freaking clamps won’t come loose.”

I was about to explain when a new message lit the screen.

My elation gave way to dread. “Guys.”

The others followed my sight line. All celebrations died.

Well done, Players!

Through quick wits and skillful performance you have won The Game and successfully averted The Danger. However, you broke The Rules, and therefore must pay The Penalty. Make your choice

.

Sincerely,

The Gamemaster

More clicks. Whirs. Inside the box, a canister rotated.

The HVACs blasted back to life.

“We didn’t break any rules!” Shelton shrieked. “We followed everything exactly!”

“Oh holy hell.” Hi was staring at Jason.

Oh no.

Jason. Chance.

We’d told others about The Game.

We’d sought outside help, which was strictly forbidden.

We had broken The Rules.

And the Gamemaster intended to exact punishment.

I heard a rattle by my feet. Looked down. A small hole had opened at the base of the front panel.

Adrenaline shot through me. Every hair on my body stood on end.

I knew what was coming.

Sweet mother of God.

We’d saved the people at the debutante ball.

Now the gas was for us.