“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 co
llar. “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.
CHAPTER 47
“WE HAVE TO get out of here!”
My hands shook. My heart banged my ribs. I saw nothing but the small round hole that might soon spew my death.
Hi’s cheeks flushed as dark as his purple tuxedo. “Is that what I think it is?”
“We didn’t cheat!” Shelton verged on tears. “We beat The Game without help!”
Ben charged into the passage and shoulder-slammed the grate.
Chance hopped backward in surprise. “What are you doing, man?”
“Get us out!” Ben bellowed.
“It won’t budge.” Chance sounded exhausted. “These clamps must be made of freaking Kevlar. I can’t hammer them off.”
“Find a way!” Ben shouted. “We’re about to die in here, Claybourne!”
The banging resumed, more frenzied than before.
Inside the device, one deadly canister spun. As I watched, it slotted forward into a narrow chute. On-screen, the Gamemaster’s final message winked out.
The second Plexiglas cover abruptly slid sideways.
A metal handle emerged to fill the empty space.
“What the frick?” Jason said.
I stared at the strange mechanism. It looked like the grip of a shovel. Arrows on its surface pointed both clockwise and counterclockwise.
“It must turn,” I said, vaguely aware that Ben had rejoined us.
“Like a valve?” Hi said. “But what does it do?”
I was considering that very question when my ears detected a low hiss.
“Move away!” I screamed.
Everyone backpedaled but me. We were out of options.
Gripping the handle, I turned it as far clockwise as it would go.
“You did it!” Jason kicked the base of the device. “The hole closed!”
“But look at the pipes!” Shelton pointed to the tubes exiting the Gamemaster’s box. Dark green vapor was misting into them and trickling upward toward the air ducts.
The sickening truth crashed home.
We faced a devil’s choice.
“The gas is releasing.” My voice was flat. “But we choose where it goes.”
“Choose how?” Shelton asked in hushed voice.
“The handle. Turn it right and the gas will flow into the tubes, hit the AC, and dump into the ballroom. Turn it left, and it will release in here.”
Shelton’s eyes bugged. “In here?”
“The Gamemaster wants his kill one way or another.” Hi understood the ghastly decision we faced. “But now it’s our call who dies.”
Ben’s fists clenched in helpless rage. “I’ll kill him.”
“So it’s really us or them?” Shelton was close to panic. “We have to pick?!”
Jason’s eyes met my mine. “We can’t gas all those people. We just can’t.”
I nodded. “Not a chance.”
We still have a card left to play.
The Gamemaster thought he’d covered every angle. Painted us
into a corner. Planned for every possibility.
But he didn’t know what I could do.
What the Virals could do.
This time I didn’t hesitate. Using all my strength I heaved left and spun the handle counterclockwise.
Inside the tubes, the green vapor thinned, then vanished entirely. The hole at the base of the box snapped open.
“Back!” Hi dragged a paralyzed Shelton toward the door. “Come on, Tory! Ben!”
I froze. Watched in horror as a thick stream of green fog flowed from the opening and began pooling on the floor. Heavier than air, the sickly cloud swirled into a low corner before creeping back toward the door.
We had minutes. At most.
Move!
“Into the passageway!” I barked.
The boys needed no urging. I raced through the door behind them and slammed it shut, closing off the ventilation room.
“I need a jacket!” I ordered.
Hi ripped off his velvet monstrosity and shoved it into the crack. The makeshift wedge wouldn’t stop the poison, but it might buy us precious seconds.
I pressed close to the grate. “Chance, we’re out of time. Can you free us?”
Chance was dripping sweat, his suit a dirty mess. Blood dripped from his fingers as he swung a rusty crowbar.
Clang!
He glanced at me with pain-filled eyes. “I’m sorry. The clamps won’t budge. I don’t know what else to try.”
“Look around! Maybe there’s a key.”
“There isn’t. I checked.”
“Search the stairwell. It could be hidden there. Hurry!”
Chance nodded, then stumbled out of sight.
One down.
A noxious odor began fouling the air. Hi and Shelton started coughing.
I saw Ben watching me. He understood my plan, and, judging by his sideways glance, the remainder of the problem.
“Hiram, kill the lights,” Ben said.
“What?” Hi was hacking and spitting. “Why would—”
Ben flicked his eyes to Jason.
Hi started. “But how … he’ll still notice …”
The ghost of a smile appeared on Ben’s lips. “Have faith.”
Hi nodded, then whispered in Shelton’s ear.
“Yes!” Shelton practically dove for the switch.
“What the hell?” Jason spun to yell at Shelton. “We need the light! We have to call for—”