Code(81)

Reluctantly, I followed Kit and Whitney to the adults’ parlor for rounds of hand-shaking and banal conversation. Precious time slipped by. Too distracted to focus, I responded to questions like a trained parrot.

My anxiety increased with each passing minute.

This was nuts. Everyone there was in mortal danger, yet only I knew it.

Was that fair? Should I be screaming warnings? Sounding the alarm? Rallying a massive search of the premises?

Break the rules and innocents will suffer.

The Gamemaster’s warning. I knew he wasn’t bluffing.

He’d already killed once. I had zero doubt he’d do it again. And his eye seemed to be everywhere.

The Gamemaster could be in this room, right now.

We had to beat The Game by honoring his rules. But how?

Soon I could stand it no longer. I had to help the other Virals.

When Kit and Whitney turned their backs, I scurried into the ballroom. Failing to spot the boys, I sped down the catwalk and out the main entrance.

I halted on the landing, frozen by indecision.

Sensing eyes on my back. I spun. Chance was a few steps behind me.

“Thinking of running?” he asked softly.

“What? No.” Why was Chance following me?

“I’d understand. It could be a wild night.”

Something in his half smile made me . . . uncomfortable.

Glancing back into the ballroom, I spotted Shelton back at our table. Our eyes met. He motioned to the right and slipped through a door.

“I have to go.”

I retraced my steps down the catwalk, drawing more snarky giggles from the Tripod’s table. Ignoring them, I ducked out after Shelton.

Please have good news.

Shelton dashed my hopes immediately.

“Zilch.” Anxiously cracking his knuckles. “Hi checked the rooms on this floor, and I covered the one above. Wasn’t hard, since none of the doors have locks.”

“Where’s Ben?”

“Right here.” Ben hurried down the hallway to join us. “I checked the lobby and first floor. Nothing out of the ordinary, no obvious clues.”

“The bomb could be in a duct somewhere,” I said. “Or lodged behind a ceiling tile.”

“Possibly.” Hi didn’t sound convinced.

“Spill,” I demanded.

“It’s just . . .” Having ditched the top hat, Hi’s hair formed a wild brown tangle above his brow. “The previous caches were all placed where they could be found. Clues pointed directly to their locations. So why would the final one be different? To me, it doesn’t fit the Gamemaster’s style to hide something where we couldn’t reasonably be expected to track it down.”

Hi was right. The Gamemaster had said so. We already held the key to locating The Danger. I thought furiously. What had we overlooked?

I was concentrating so hard, I didn’t hear Jason approach.

“Hey, crew!” He swung a lazy arm around my shoulder. “Ready to break it down with Charleston’s finest?”

Ben shoved Jason before I could react. “Get lost, jackass! Bigger things are happening than this stupid ball!”

Jason stepped nose to nose with Ben. “We had an agreement, Blue. Don’t make me embarrass you in front of your friends.”

“Stop it, both of you! I can’t have you acting like idiots. Not now!”

Things could not have gotten worse. But they did.

Whitney swooped in like a Predator drone.

“There you are!” Annoyance pinched her painted features. “Let me know next time you’re planning to slip away. We’re supposed to be in position already!”

I shook my head, failing to comprehend.

“It’s time, kiddo.” Kit was straightening his bow tie. “Let’s go turn some heads.”

“Now?” I was light-years from ready.

“Of course, now.” Whitney tapped her diamond wristwatch. “It’s showtime!”

“I . . . but . . .”

Microphone feedback screeched through the door. A woman’s voice welcomed all present to the “evening of a lifetime.”

It was really happening. I froze like a deer scenting coyotes.

“We’re not in position!” Whitney sounded horrified as she peeked through the door. “Everyone’s seated!”

“This hallway leads to the landing,” Kit said. “We don’t have to cut through.”

“Then move!” Using two hands, Whitney propelled me down the corridor and around a corner to the main landing.

The other debutantes were already lined up like a procession of swans, flanked by fathers and escorts. The mass flowed like a flouncy, jittery stream down the grand staircase.

A thick curtain had been stretched across the doorway, blocking the ballroom from view. I spotted Ashley up front, Madison and Courtney farther back in the line. No help there.

A frantic-looking woman spotted me, nearly threw out her back waving my party to the head of the queue. Inside, the speaker paused for a round of applause.

“Now, remember the routine.” Whitney was grooming me like a cat, wiping away smudges and spit-stamping stray hairs. “Walk straight down the catwalk at a leisurely pace, then turn and do your curtsy. Then your father will come to meet you, and pace you up and back.”