Warcross (Warcross #1)(13)

If they catch me and I’m arrested, I’ll be charged as an adult.

Breaking the law had only quickened my father’s death. It certainly hadn’t made my life any easier.

I stay where I am, torn, my throat dry.

What if I do successfully steal it? It’s just a power-up in a game; I’m not hurting anyone. I’ve never tested this Warcross hack in an arena like this—but what if it works? I could resell it for thousands. I could get that money immediately and give it to Mr. Alsole, pay off my debts. It could save me. And I’d never do it again.

The temptation nips at me, and I wonder if this is how my father felt every time he’d logged online to place just one more bet.

Just one bet. Just this once.

Jena reaches the power-up first. She only has time to swipe it off the top of the cliff before Kento tackles her.

If I don’t make a decision now, it’ll be too late.

Instinctively, I move. My fingers tap madly against my tabletop. I bring up a player directory, then hunt for Jena’s profile. As I go, Jena kicks Kento off her and then dives in a perfect arc down toward the lagoon. A deafening thunderclap sounds out overhead.

Jena’s name finally pops up. I have only a few seconds to act. Don’t do it. But I’m already moving. A complete inventory of her virtual belongings appears. I scroll until I see the brand-new Sudden Death item in her account, shiny and scarlet.

The only weakness I’ve ever found in Warcross’s security is a tiny glitch when a user is about to use an item. When the item passes from an account into the game and is used, there’s a split second when it is vulnerable.

My fingers tremble. Before me, Jena reaches for her new Sudden Death power-up. In her inventory, I see it flash a quick gold. Now’s my only chance. I suck in my breath, wait—don’t do it—and then type a single command just as Jena’s item leaves her hand.

A tingle shoots through my body. I freeze. In fact, everyone in the game seems to freeze.

Then I notice that Asher is looking right at me. Like he can see me.

I blink. That’s impossible. I’m in the audience. But Jena is staring at me, too. Their eyes are wide. That’s when I realize that the Sudden Death power-up is now officially in my account. I see it in my inventory at the bottom of my vision.

I did it. My hack worked.

But, somehow, successfully capturing the power-up has glitched me into the tournament.

A referee’s whistle echoes around us. The audience’s cheers turn into whispers of shock. I stay where I am, suddenly unsure of what to do. Frantically, I type in another command, trying to go back to being part of the audience again. But it’s no use.

Everyone—the players, the announcers, the millions in the audience—can see me.

“Who the hell are you?” Asher says to me.

I just stare back, numb.

A flash of red light engulfs the scene, and the omniscient voice echoes all around us. “Time-out,” it booms. “System glitch.”

Then, my screen goes dark. I’m kicked out of the game and back into my starting room, looking out at a virtual view of Tokyo. The doors in the room are gone now. The Sudden Death power-up is still glowing in my inventory.

But when I reach for it, it vanishes. They’ve deleted it from my directory.

I rip my glasses off. Then I sit back in my chair, looking wildly around our apartment. My eyes settle on Keira, seated across from me. She’s taken off her glasses, too, and is staring at me with the same shocked expression I’d seen on Jena’s face.

“Em,” Keira whispers. “What did you do?”

“I—” I stutter, then stop. Something about reaching into Jena’s account had erased my anonymity. I’ve been exposed. I stare down at the table. My heart thuds.

Keira leans forward. “I could see you in the game,” she says. “Em—Asher spoke to you. He could see you. They could all see you.” She throws her hands up in astonishment. “You glitched the game!”

She has absolutely no idea how much trouble I’ve just gotten myself into; she thinks this was an honest mistake. Below my rising panic lies an ocean of regret. I don’t know what Henka Games does when they catch a hacker, but they’ll ban me from the game for sure. I’ll go to court for this. “I’m sorry,” I reply in a daze. “Maybe they—they won’t make a big deal out of it . . .”

My voice trails off. Keira lets out a long breath and leans back in her chair. We don’t speak for a while. After being so immersed in Warcross, the silence in the apartment feels overwhelming.

“You’re smart, Em,” Keira finally says, her eyes meeting mine. “But I have a feeling you’re dead wrong on that one.”

And as if on cue, my phone rings.





5



We both jump at the sound. When I peer at the phone, the caller ID says: Unknown Number.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Keira says to me, her eyes as wide as mine now. I just shake my head repeatedly at the phone. I don’t move from my spot until, after what seems like an eternity, it finally stops ringing.

Immediately, it rings again. Unknown Number.

The hairs rise on the back of my neck. I turn the phone’s sound off, then throw it onto the couch so I can’t see it. In the silence, I stay hunched in my chair and try not to meet Keira’s bewildered stare.