Code(101)

CHAPTER 54





“Ben, you and Shelton slip around back. Get a look through that window.”

I gathered my sopping hair into a ponytail. The wind and rain had doubled in intensity. Trash and bits of debris were cartwheeling down the street, rising and spiraling, then dropping only to lift back up again. Bottles and bags began shooting along the gutters.

Our grace period was over. We were caught in a full-blown hurricane.

Huddled beside the grocery, we formed a game plan. Coop’s eyes were white and round with fear. I held his collar so he couldn’t dart away.

“Why do I have to scout?” Shelton whined. “I suck at sneaking up on people!”

Ben backhanded rain from his face. “I thought you said no splitting up?” His thick black hair was pasted to his scalp.

“Just this once, and only for a few seconds. We can’t let the Gamemaster spot us all together. We’d lose any element of surprise.”

“Can we flare?” Hi was red-faced and breathing hard. “We need to be ready.”

I hesitated. What if the Gamemaster wasn’t home?

Then this whole adventure was pointless.

“We need to be sure he’s in there,” Ben said. “We only get one shot.”

I nodded. “No flares yet. You two go first. Head for the truck. Hi and I will count to thirty, then buzz the front of the house. If you spot the Gamemaster, whistle twice. Otherwise we’ll reconnect in the backyard.”

“You won’t hear a whistle in this.” Ben gestured to the chaos swirling around us. “Or anything else.”

“Then just sit tight wherever you are. If we don’t see you in the driveway, we’ll keep circling the house and link up by the truck.”

“What about Coop?” Hi kept his gaze on our target.

“He stays with me.” I grabbed the wolfdog’s snout and looked him in the eye. “You hear that, dog breath? By my side.”

Coop licked my hand.

Impossibly, the gusting kicked up a notch, making it difficult to even stand up straight. I braced myself against the store’s wall and prayed for a lull.

Time was up. We’d need to seek shelter in minutes.

After what seemed like an eon, the wind’s force dropped a fraction. Everyone struggled to their feet.

I gave Shelton a reassuring hug. “Good luck.”

“Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” Shelton blinked through water-blurred lenses. “At least if the Gamemaster kills me, my parents won’t have the chance.”

“Stay close.” Ben squeezed Shelton’s shoulder. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

Bending into the wind, they disappeared behind the rear of the store.

A powerful blast stripped a Miller Lite sign from the wall above my head. I watched the metal square careen across the street, slam into a car, then spin sideways and vanish into the gloom.

Hi and I silently counted. At thirty, we worked our way around the front of the store. At the corner of the building, we stopped to survey our objective.

The one-story row house was small and decrepit, its faded blue paint cracked and peeling. The exterior was a neglected eyesore of warped wooden slats, loose shingles, and dirty windows.

Not boarded up. Katelyn’s going to smash that place.

A fractured concrete walk connected the front door to the street. The lawn to either side was patchy and overgrown with weeds. No shrubs. No shade trees.

I pointed to a pair of windows flanking the entrance. “I’ll go left, you go right.”


Hi nodded. We sloshed forward, Coop by my side. At the window I dropped to a crouch beneath the sill.

Cautiously wiping grime from the unscreened glass, I examined what lay on the other side. Couch. Coffee table. Two armchairs. TV stand. Bare walls.

The room was dark. No one was in it.

I stepped back and signaled Hi. Sticking close to the building, we stole around to a gravel driveway on its opposite side. Sensing our need for stealth, Coop loped silently at my knee.

A chain-link fence bounded the property, running along the far edge of the gravel. A single window overlooked the drive from the house’s rear corner.

We crept forward, heads lowered, muscles tense.

I can’t see anything in this downpour. I could stumble right into him.

At the window, Hi boosted me with his hands. I peeked into a tiny chamber containing a bare mattress and a large black trunk. Lights off. Vacant.

When I stepped down, Hi cupped his hands over my ear. “What now?”

I pointed to the yard. “Truck.”

We found Ben and Shelton hunkered behind the Ford’s rear bumper. Glancing into the backyard, I saw a wheelbarrow, a stack of bricks, and a dilapidated storage shed in the near corner. Then I peered over the empty truck bed at the row house.

We were facing a screened-in porch, its wooden door banging in the shifting gale.

Ben pointed to three tiny windows lined up to the left of the porch. “Kitchen,” he yelled as we ducked back down. “No lights on, nothing moving.”

“Same for the living room and bedroom,” Hi shouted.

“So nobody’s home.” Shelton couldn’t hide his relief.

Coop chose that moment to shake vigorously, spraying us with doggie castoff.

Ben glared at the wolfdog, then nodded back the way he and Shelton had come. “I think there’s another room on that side. No windows.”