My flare vision pierced the truck’s rain-streaked windshield. I saw the Gamemaster, eyes wide, mouth a black oval of shock. He lips formed a single word: impossible.
Six canvas duffels were piled in the truck bed.
Facts snapped into place. How could I have been so blind?
The fire in the living room. The Dell. Headlights in the driveway.
We’d hoped the Gamemaster might return. Never suspected he hadn’t left.
The storage shed! We didn’t check the damn shed.
“Bastard!” Ben charged the truck.
Startled, the Gamemaster stomped the accelerator. Rainwater sluiced up from his tires as the F-150 careened down to the intersection and turned left.
Ben sprinted after, wet jeans molded to his legs, jacket sleeves flapping in the vicious wind. I watched truck and boy disappear around the corner.
“Ben, wait!”
My scream was swallowed by the storm.
Then a gray blur fired past me.
“Cooper, no!”
Ignoring me, the wolfdog charged in pursuit.
Shelton and Hi ran to my side.
“What should we do?” Hi was hunching to hold his ground in the swirling wind.
Shelton grabbed my arm. Shouted. “What did the Gamemaster mean about Ben?”
“I don’t know! We have to catch them!”
A trash can barreled down the street. Shingles flew from nearby roofs.
It was lunacy to be outside, but what choice did we have?
“Let’s go!” Rounding the corner, I spotted Ben a block ahead, running full tilt. Coop was loping a few yards behind. Even flaring, I couldn’t see the F-150.
Hurricane Katelyn was wholly unleashed.
Trees thrashed and writhed. Garbage and palm fronds swirled in the street and plastered walls and buildings. A fence post rolled down the sidewalk, followed by a plastic mailbox, a boot, and a clump of sodden magazines.
Horizontal rain filled my mouth and needled my skin.
Even flaring it was hard to see, to breathe.
We need every scrap of power. All we can access.
I motioned for Hi and Shelton to draw close.
Eyes shut, I focused on my flare. On the flaming cords linking our minds, the root of our psychic connection. Reaching deep, I drew from the hidden well of power I’d tapped to escape the grate.
Warmth permeated my limbs. The wind seemed slightly less murderous.
Instinctively, I spread the heat to my pack. Hi. Shelton. Coop. Even Ben.
Hi’s back straightened. Shelton stopped shivering.
“Stick close,” I yelled. “Harness your power.”
“Don’t burn out!” Hi shouted. “Without flares, we won’t make it ten feet.”
Together, we staggered to Spring Street, but Ben and Coop were nowhere to be seen. I watched dumbstruck as a gas station canopy ripped free and somersaulted into a Hardee’s drive-through.
“There!” Hi pointed toward the hospital. Flaring, he had best eyes. “I saw Ben!”
“Why didn’t the Gamemaster turn?” I yelled. “This road leads to the highway!”
“He can’t use the bridges!” Shelton shielded his glowing eyes from the downpour. “The police have them blocked. The Gamemaster can’t drive off the peninsula!”
He’s trapped. And we have the scent.
So we forged ahead, retracing our steps from an hour before.
It seemed a lifetime ago. A different age, when I could still trust Ben.
It can’t be true.
Then why would Ben panic? Why destroy the computer and run away?
For an instant, I’d caught his eye. Seen agony behind his golden irises.
Ben has a secret.
I have to learn what it is.
Three arduous blocks brought us back to Charleston Memorial Hospital. A doctor emerged from the lobby door and waved wildly for us to shelter inside. We pounded past.
Hi’s finger stabbed left, inland, away from the harbor. “They ran down Calhoun!”
Another block and I spotted them.
The F-150 was stopped in the middle of the street. Ben and Coop were fifty yards behind it and closing.
“Downed trees are blocking the road,” Hi panted. “The Gamemaster must’ve bailed.”
In the distance I glimpsed a brown-robed figure lugging a drenched duffel bag on one shoulder. The Gamemaster turned and stared in our direction. I could almost taste his wrath at being pursued.
We’re coming.
Ahead, Ben shot past the truck, vaulted a fallen palm tree, and fired up the street. Coop paused at the truck’s open driver’s side door, sniffed the interior, then spun and zipped after Ben.
Shelton, Hi, and I were approaching the F-150.
The Gamemaster watched, one hand tapping his leg in a regular rhythm.
What’s he doing?
“The truck’s got a CB antenna!” Shelton yelled. “I’ll radio for help!”
Shelton and Hi beelined for the vehicle. I didn’t. Bypassing the truck and downed palm, I continued the chase.
Ahead, Coop skidded to a stop. Turned. Howled back at me.
Intent on the Gamemaster, I nearly missed his message.
Fragmented images formed in my brain.
Black truck. Open door. Plastic brick on the seat. Blinking red light.
Danger. Bad smell. Bad thing.
I whirled.
Hi and Shelton were level with the truck’s rear bumper.
Eyes closing, I screamed.
CHAPTER 56
THE FLAMING CORDS sizzled in my subconscious.
They crackled with intensity, larger and more vibrant than ever before.
I fired a message to Hi and Shelton.
Get away from the truck!
On instinct I forwarded Coop’s mental picture, overlaid with my own fear.
The force of my sending staggered them. They didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. Both turned and dove for the bushes bordering the road.
The truck exploded in a titanic fireball, lifting five feet into the air. Shards of metal and plastic blasted in every direction. The concussion knocked me to the pavement. Ignoring the pain, I streaked to where I’d last seen my friends.
Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay …
Coop raced past me and bounded into the singed and burning shrubs.
This time water conquered fire. As the hammering rain extinguished the flames, a choking cloud of smoke billowed across the street.
“Hi? Shelton?” I slogged into a knee-deep stream racing alongside the street. “Where are you?”
“Get this mutt off me!” A voice yelled from somewhere just ahead.
The smoke shifted to reveal Hi, on his back, sunk to his chin in a gathering creek. Coop had two paws on his chest and was licking his face.
A groan sounded to my right. I turned to see Shelton drag himself from the water.
“An exploding truck almost drowned me,” he wheezed. “What are the odds?”
Despite their dousing, both boys still had fire in their eyes.
“Are either of you hurt?” I shouted.
Head shakes.
“Then get up! We have to catch Ben!”
I struggled back to the road, heard Shelton and Hi close behind. Coop shot ahead once more, but this time I called him back.
Heel. Wait.
Coop’s ears perked. He checked his sprint and circled to my side.
“We do this together,” I ordered aloud.
I paused to let my soggy companions catch their breath. Shelton coughed. Hi blew a mammoth snot-rocket from his nose. Finally, they both gave a thumbs-up. We raced up the block, alert for any sign of Ben or the Gamemaster.
Minutes passed. Not a trace.
“The wind is dropping,” Shelton said, gasping for air. “I think the storm has blown out.”
“Katelyn’s not done.” Hi pointed to a giant hole in the clouds. “The eye is passing over us. The backside of this baby is
still to come.”
As we approached the shopping district, the wind died altogether. An eerie quiet blanketed the city. After the last hour’s mayhem, the stillness was unnerving.
We watched Katelyn’s eye slide over our heads.
“The hurricane’s moving super fast,” Hi said. “This break won’t last.”
We crossed King and were passing The Gap when a hand shot from the doorway. Terrified, I lashed out, punching and kicking with all my strength.
“Take it easy!” Ben’s yellow eyes shone from the gloomy recess.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“Shh. He’s just ahead.” Ben slipped from the alcove and crept to the corner of the building, forcing us to follow at his heels.
“He’s waiting for us.” Ben peeked around at the open expanse of Marion Square. “I saw him cut across the plaza.”
“Then let’s get him.” Angry. At Ben. At the Gamemaster. At myself for not confronting Ben then and there. “He could escape while we stand here talking.”
“The scumbag we’re chasing is a master marksman.” Ben kept his eyes on the plaza. “What do you think is in that duffel?”
“That field is a perfect ambush site.” Hi was also peering ahead. “And the wind just died.”
Shelton pointed a finger at Ben. “The Gamemaster called you—”
“Not now!” Ben snapped. “He’s a liar and a killer! We have to catch him first.”
Shelton crossed his arms, clearly dissatisfied with Ben’s response.
I wavered, unsure. Ben was hiding something.
But he was right. We had a job to do. A murderer to stop.
Answers would have to wait.
“Please.” Ben’s eyes practically begged. “I’ll explain everything later.”
“Okay,” I said coolly. “But you will explain.”
Ben nodded, then snuck another look at the square. “We need a plan.”
I cleared my mind to focus on the problem. “What are our assumptions?”
“There’s a sniper in the park,” Ben said.
“He’s heavily armed and highly skilled,” Shelton said.
“He’s had time to find an effective field of fire,” Hi said. “Create an ambush.”
I nodded. “And he’ll want to settle this while the eye is overhead and the wind isn’t a factor.”
“Options?” Shelton asked.
Ben’s hand slashed the air. “We flush him out, then take him down.”
“Great work,” Hi deadpanned. “Any idea how to do it?”
Ben shook his head. They all looked at me.
What did I know? Flush out a sniper? The only military strategy I’d ever learned was from watching Band of Brothers.
“I should’ve bought Call of Duty,” Hi moaned. “But my stupid mother doesn’t let me play first-person shooter games.”
Coop brushed my leg. As I reached to rub his ears, the answer hit me.
“We use our edge. Stalk him like a wolf pack.”
Hi took a deep breath. “Okay, but if you scan my brain’s hard drive, stay away from the Internet search history. You won’t like what you find.”
Ignoring that, I shut my eyes and dove into my subconscious.
On impulse I held out both hands. Hi took one, Shelton the other. I felt Ben join the circle. And there was Coop, standing in the middle.
Focusing our strength.
The cords appeared, pulsing with energy.
Five sparking lines connected us together.
With our pack huddled so close, the lines rippled and thrummed with power.
I pushed.
The lines suddenly expanded, hollowed, and became tunnels.
That’s never happened before.
Sweat joined the rain drenching my brow.
Acting on reflex, I forced my thoughts into the nearest tunnel.
Hiram.
There was a floating sensation, then I felt something click.
Eyes snapped open. A head turned.
I stared at a rain-soaked redhead standing to my right. A girl.
Me. I’m looking at me.
Hi gasped. Startled, I retreated from his mind.
Opening another pair of eyes, I found myself back in familiar skin.
“Wow,” Hi breathed. “Oh wow.”
“Amazing,” I said. “But that’s not what we need.”
Concentrate. You’ve done this before.
I visualized the glowing cords. This time, I grabbed one but did not enter it.
Light pulsed its length. Fragments of thought assaulted me. Images. Emotions.
Shelton.
I reached for another line, forcing the power outward. More fragments appeared.
Hi.
Another. The neural chaos grew as Ben joined the circle.
I was bombarded by their feelings and impressions. By their fears. But I felt in control. I could touch their minds. Send thoughts or images to all of them.
Then I noticed a void, like a missing limb. The circle was incomplete.
Cooper’s silhouette materialized in my mind. Every cord ran through him.
Coop’s the key. Center of the pack.
Reaching out, I drew the wolfdog into the mix.
Flash of light. Fusion. Five minds melded into one.
Coop howled with canine delight.
Our pack was finally whole.
I felt a telepathic link to each of the Virals.
The missing level. This is it.
The boys grasped it, too. They sent and exchanged thoughts, blown away by this new level of connection. By our effortless communication. It was the rush of a lifetime.
Without thinking, I narrowed my focus to Ben. Peeked behind his shield.
My brain captured a single image: Ben, aboard Sewee, deep in conversation.
Noooooooooooooo!
I looked up. Ben cocked his head, unsure what was happening. Then a mental wall slammed into place, blocking access to his thoughts.
Too late. I’d seen the truth. Recognized Ben’s companion.
The stolen memory seared my brain.
Ben had been speaking with the Gamemaster.
CHAPTER 57
THE SHOCK NEARLY extinguished my flare.
I stared at Ben, aghast, incapable of speech.
My friend. My confidant. Trusted above all others on earth. The pain of his betrayal sent tears to my eyes.
Coop nipped my hand, pulling me back from the brink.
Pack, Coop sent with crystal clarity. Pack.
The wolfdog had it right. Whatever Ben had done, I needed him at that moment. The pack had to be whole for what we were about to attempt.
Shelton and Hi were cautiously poking each other’s chest.
Amazing, sent Hi.
No doubt, Shelton thought back.
I heard them both. Our union of minds was seamless, not the strained, incomplete connections of the past. A blink, and I could adopt another Viral’s perception. See through his eyes. We could communicate telepathically without interference.
I looked at Coop. Is this what a pack truly is?
Coop looked back with feral intensity. I sensed contentment. Excitement. As if his family had finally arrived home.
“We should attack,” Ben said aloud. “Flush out the Gamemaster before … whatever this is fades away.”
Yes, I sent. And no more words.
The awesome power flowed through me. Filled me with confidence.
I sent the pack a series of images and instructions.
No more was needed. Single file, we stalked toward the plaza.
Marion Square occupies a full city block—a wide, flat expanse often used for concerts and festivals. Dirt paths run from corner to corner, forming a giant X on the lawn. Oaks and low bushes border the perimeter, but there is no cover inside the square.
We approached the southwest corner and slipped in among the trees, each ducking behind a giant truck. Coop crouched at my side, ears perked, tail pointed outward.
Moving warily, I crouched and crab-stepped to my left to get a clean look at the terrain.
Across the plaza loomed a hotel designed to look like a fortress. The roofline was styled as a battlement, topped with false towers and indented crenellations.
A perfect shooting platform, Ben sent. He was watching through my eyes.
Agreed, I replied. We need to revise our plan.
CRACK.
Something stung my arm.
I dropped to my belly, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. Not the hotel.
TORY! Shelton pushed so hard it made me dizzy.
Coop whined in distress.
Then Hi was dragging me back behind the oak. Shelton and Ben were staring with panicked eyes.
“Oh God,” Hi panted. “How bad is it?”
How bad is what? I sent. Why are you speaking?
“Your arm!” Hi took a deep breath. You’ve been shot.
I looked down. My jacket and shirtsleeve were neatly sliced. A scarlet blossom was streaking the outside of the nylon. Huh.
“She’s in shock.” Ben’s voice was shaky. “Hi, check the wound.”
I’m fine. But I let Hi probe the rip in my sleeve.
Seconds ticked by. Then color returned to Hi’s cheeks. “It’s okay. Just a graze.”
My finger traced the shallow slash on my upper arm. Close.
“Did anyone see the shot?” Shelton whispered.
No more talking! I mind-shouted, tugging off the windbreaker and ripping away my shirtsleeve.
The wound was neat, straight, and parallel to the ground. It sliced horizontally across my left biceps, angling neither up nor down.
He’s level with us, I sent. Not on a roof.
I considered my body position at impact—facing forward, shoulders square to the park. To graze my left arm, the bullet had to have originated either directly ahead or from somewhere to our left.
I scanned the left side of the plaza. Settled on a trio of live oaks crowding the northeast corner. There.
Shelton spreads his hands. That’s all the way across the square!
Coop nudged my thigh. When our eyes met, he transmitted a series of images: Shelton and Ben circling left. Coop, Hiram, and I swinging right. Then snapping jaws, our prey caught squirming between.
Overcoming my shock, I relayed the wolfdog’s plan. He would know.
Thunder cracked. A lone squall swept the block, sprinkling us with briny drops. The eye was passing. Katelyn was about to rage again.