Code(91)

. . . going to fail . . .

. . . don't want to die in here . . .

We can't . . .

We lost . . .

. . . all my fault . . .

NO!

Pushing my own terror aside, I embraced what lurked beneath.

Boiling. Snarling. Storming. All consuming.

Rage.

I would not let the Gamemaster kill us.

This would not be the end.

Neurons fired. Scalding heat infused my extremities.

I forced the energy outward, down the fiery links connecting my pack.

The boys screamed.

It took several seconds to realize that I was screaming, too.

Naked power surged into my chest. My muscles. My whole being.

Far too much. I had to free it. Had to drive the energy away.

AGAIN.

We pulled as one.

The grate shuddered. Rose an inch. Stuck fast.

No! I WILL NOT LOSE!

I focused. Pushed more and more energy down the flaming cords.

Something popped. My arms ripped upward.

I heard the screech of twisting metal.

My eyes opened. I stared in shock.

The bottom third of the grate was bent inward, its steel bars twisted like overstretched Play-Doh. The track had ripped free of the wall.

“Go! Go! Go!” I shouted.

Shelton and Hi crawled under the grate, then reached back and grabbed Jason’s arms. With Ben and me pushing, we forced his unconscious body beneath the barrier. Then Ben and I scrambled to freedom.

Lurching to our feet, we dragged Jason across the electrical room. Once safely beyond the toxic odor, we collapsed, gasping for breath.

I looked up as Chance emerged from the direction of the stairwell. He stiffened, staring at the mangled grate, naked shock on his face.

I shut my eyes and sent a message to the other Virals: Snuff your flares!

SNAP.

The connection broke. Strength drained from my limbs.

“I’ll sound the alarm.” Chance turned to run.

“No.”

All eyes whipped to me.

I coughed and spat, trying to clear my throat. “The Consequences, remember? We can’t tell anyone.”

“What consequences?” Chance demanded. “What are you talking about?”

“The bastard who did this threatened to hurt our families if we talk.” My voice was a dull rasp. “Ever. I don’t think he was bluffing.”

“But we have to warn people!” Shelton aimed a finger toward the ventilation room. “The gas could escape the basement.”

I shook my head. “Bromomethane is heavier than air. It won’t rise.”

“You all need medical treatment.” Chance knelt beside his former lacrosse teammate. “Jason’s unconscious, for God’s sake! The poison might be killing him.”

“That wasn’t the gas.” Ben avoided Chance’s eye. “He . . . tripped. Hard.”

“Help me up.” I was still woozy from the loss of my flare. “I have a plan.”

Chance gave me an odd look, but extended a hand.

I stumbled toward the stairs. “Follow.”

The boys trailed me up the steps, Chance and Ben lugging Jason’s dead weight. On the landing beside the lobby door, I spotted my target. Without hesitating, I pulled the fire alarm.

Sirens screamed. Blue lights flickered inside the emergency stairwell.

“This will get them outside,” I shouted. “A fire scare should give us some cover for how we look. But no one says a word about what happened down there.”

“That’s crazy!” Shelton wailed. “We should call the police right now!”

“We’re gonna catch the psycho who did this.” The words gave me strength. “The Gamemaster is still loose. Probably thinks we’re dead. I bet he’s celebrating his victory right now. Let’s show him he chose the wrong pawns for his amusement.”

That said, I bent over and vomited on the concrete.

Out in the lobby, feet began pounding down the grand staircase. The foyer soon filled with nervous guests hurrying for the front door.

I tried to smooth my rumpled gown. Gave up. I was reasonably sure we’d have to pay for it. Whitney was going to flip out. The thought made me feel a little better.

The boys looked equally bad. Lost jackets. Ripped pants. Stained cuffs. Everything drenched in panic-sweat. I hoped it was dark outside.

“Now.” Clasping my hands in front of me. “Let’s close this nightmare, shall we? Don’t forget—I have gifts for all my escorts.”

Hi and Shelton chortled. Ben snorted as he helped Jason to his feet.

“Wha?” Jason asked groggily.

“Take it easy, tiger.” Ben patted Jason’s back. “You ran into a pole.”

Chance never smiled. Never took his eyes off me.

I remembered his expression upon seeing the twisted metal. The shattered grate he’d pounded with a crowbar without success.

Later.

Hi cracked the door. “Ladies first.”

“Why, thank you, sir.”

For the hell of it, I dropped into another formal curtsy.

The boys snickered. Then, straightening their soiled garments as best they could, they gave me a polite round of applause.

“Off we go then.” I winked. “There’s still cake and dancing on the program.”