Code(25)

“Here goes.” Ben finger-swiped the screen.

A medieval scroll appeared, smoking purple letters affixed to its surface. A familiar signature flowed across the bottom of the page.


Valiant Players,

I’m disappointed. You failed at this task. Fortunately, the first round was mere practice. But now The Game has truly begun! From here forward the stakes increase, and there’s no turning back.

To wit: I’ve hidden a bomb somewhere in Charleston. Unlike the first, this one is very real. To disarm the device, you must follow my clues and complete the tasks.

Fail at a task, the bomb goes off. Break a rule, the bomb goes off. Refuse to continue, the bomb goes off. Reveal The Game to anyone, the bomb goes off.

Accept my challenge and complete The Game, or innocents will die. Lives are in your hands. The clock is ticking!


Sincerely,

The Gamemaster

“When we find this assclown,” I fumed, “I’m going to break his freaking—”

“It’s a joke, right?” Shelton was tugging his lobe double-time. “A sick prank?”

“Of course.” But Hi’s face was uneasy. “Sorry I got us into this nonsense.”

“A bomb?” Ben was shaking his head. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Look!” I pointed to the screen.

The scroll dissolved, replaced by a grainy, green-tinged image.

Four figures, huddled close inside an empty room.

“This is stupid.” Shelton started toward the doorway. “Let’s bounce. We can toss that iPad in the freaking harbor.”

“Wait!” My heart skipped a beat. On-screen, one of the figures was moving to the right. “Shelton, walk back over here.”

He grumbled, but rejoined the group. The figure on the iPad did the same.

Goose bumps. Boatloads.

“It’s a video feed!” Hi spun, eyes darting to the ceiling.

I’d observed the screen as Hi moved. Sure enough, when he’d turned, so had one of the eerie green figures.

“It’s live,” Ben whispered. “The Gamemaster could be watching us, right now.”

“There!” Hi aimed his flashlight at the far corner of the chamber. Where ceiling met wall, a tiny red light winked. “Sonofabitch!”

“It must be a night-vision lens,” Shelton said. “That’s why the image is so clear.”

Ben handed me the iPad, scooped a rock, and fired. Coop yipped at the sound of impact.

The red light continued to wink. Ben grabbed a handful of stones and tossed them like buckshot. The rain of projectiles must’ve connected. I heard the tinkle of breaking glass, then the iPad went black.

“Can we please get out of here?” Shelton repeated. “This is way too weird.”

Not waiting for comment, he ducked back into the first chamber. Hi hurried after, followed by Ben, Cooper, and me. We regrouped by the window through which we’d entered.

Dusky light poured through the opening. The salty harbor breeze was a welcome change from the fetid, musty air inside the castle.

“Ladies first,” said Hi.

I was about to hoist myself onto the sill when I glanced at the iPad. “Crap.”

“What?” Three voices.

A new image had filled the screen—a large red circle on a white field, dancing yellow letters inscribed on its face.

Two words. Press me.

Shelton was not interested. “Does the clown think we’re idiots, or—”

Hi’s finger darted forward and tapped the button.

“Hi!” I shouted. Things were happening too fast.

“You moron!” Shelton screeched.

“I couldn’t help it.” Hi shrugged. “How do you not press a button like that?”

Shelton’s fingers found his temples. “We don’t know—”

BOOM.

This blast was larger than the first, trembling the castle walls. Dirt and ancient mortar rained down on our heads. Behind us, a stone block fell to the floor.

“Out!” I yelled.

Ben tossed Coop through the window. We scrambled after, then booked it to the shoreline, getting as far from the building as possible.

There was a rumble, followed by a series of booms. I turned to see dust billowing from every window.

“Holy crap!” Shelton panted. “Did Hi blow up the castle?”

“No.” Ben’s voice was tight as he peered back at the fortress. “The walls are still standing. Something else must’ve happened.”

“Good God.” Hi’s voice shook as he pointed the opposite direction. “Look.”

My gaze followed Hi’s finger. Across the harbor. Downtown.

A pillar of smoke was rising from Battery Park. Below it, trees were burning like torches soaked in pitch. As I stared in horror, sirens began to wail.

“You don’t think . . .” Hi trailed off.

No one responded.

But I knew. My gaze dropped to the iPad, waiting.

In moments a new message appeared on-screen: Understand?

Two options took shape below the question: a white circle with gold writing, and a black square lettered in red.

The white circle read: Yes. Time to play The Game.

The black square read: No. I need another demonstration.