These Deadly Games(38)
“Dude,” said Randall, “my parents are way too basic to have a dark side.”
A few minutes later, Sanchez lumbered over and sank into a seat next to Dylan. Akira positioned her phone so Zoey could see him.
“Long time no see,” said Sanchez, keeping his tone light. We all stared at him blankly. “Yeah, sorry.” He cleared his throat and flipped to a new page in his notebook. “So. I’m gonna need to ask you kids a few—”
“Did those cops have a warrant?” Randall’s nostrils flared. It took a lot to get Randall angry. This classified as a lot.
Sanchez grunted. “We don’t need a warrant for emergency services.”
“Emergency? What the hell was the emergency?”
“I’m the one asking the questions now, alright?” said Sanchez. When Randall glanced toward his mother, he added, “She said it was okay.”
“Well, you know what’s not okay?” said Randall. “Cops busting into my house, guns out, for no reason.”
“Yeah, that’s some grade-A bullshit right there,” said Akira. Dylan nodded aggressively.
Sanchez wiped a hand down his face. “We received a troubling tip about your address, and my guys were doing their job.”
“What kind of tip?” Randall asked skeptically.
“We’ll get to that. But listen … I’m real, real sorry about what happened to your dad. Real unfortunate. But right now we gotta find whoever called it in.”
My chest cavity fizzed like someone had opened a can of shaken soda in there, making it impossible to swallow the heat creeping up my neck.
“Now, I know you’ve had a rough night, so I’ll try to keep this brief. Do any of you know a Lance Burdly?”
I grimaced. On the car ride to Randall’s, I’d asked him if he knew anyone named Lance. But he just shook his head, looking as dumbfounded as Akira and Dylan, who apparently didn’t remember, either—though after a moment, Akira tilted her head, like the name rang a bell. Sanchez noticed this as well. “Sound familiar?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Akira tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t think so?”
“It doesn’t to me,” I said with an air of finality.
“Mmkay.” Sanchez directed his next question to Randall. “Do you know anyone who has something against you—some reason to pull a prank on you?” My pulse quickened, and I leaned forward, watching Randall expectantly. Come on. Figure it out.
But instead, Randall guffawed. “A prank? No way. Who’d even want to prank my parents?”
“Oh my God, Randall.” I couldn’t help it—it seemed so freaking obvious. I clamped my lips shut, but everyone looked at me expectantly. Guh. I lowered my voice, hoping my phone mic was muffled enough in my jacket pocket. “You were supposed to be home babysitting. It was supposed to be you.”
Me, Randall mouthed, his eyes widening.
“Holy—” said Zoey. “Randall, you got swatted.”
There we go.
Sanchez did a double take at Akira’s phone, which apparently he hadn’t noticed before. “Er … I’m gonna have to ask you to hang up. You can call your friend back later.”
“Wait, I’m not recording or anything—” Zoey managed to shout before Akira hung up.
Sanchez flipped to an earlier page of notes from his conversation with Randall’s mom. “Your parents were supposed to have a meeting in Burlington, correct?”
“Yeah, with some potential client,” said Randall, dazed, maybe wondering what I was—what would’ve happened if he’d been home alone with his sister? Would the SWAT team have arrested him? Would they have hurt him? “The dude was a no-show, so they came home early.”
Some potential client. I thought of Fishman at the park, claiming I’d asked him to meet. Had Randall’s parents really been stood up, or was it another trick from An0nym0us1?
“Had they ever met this guy before?” I whispered.
Randall shook his head. “No clue.”
“No,” Sanchez said, his tone flat. “They hadn’t.” He suspected what I did—that it was all a setup. “Now, you kids have a big video game competition this weekend, that right?”
Akira gasped. “You think this is like what happened to Jason Tardis last year?” Yikes, I’d almost forgotten. Sanchez nodded solemnly—apparently, he knew about this. A few days after Jason won the MortalDusk Crown, a SWAT team busted down the front door of his Florida home as he livestreamed. He’d gone upstairs to investigate, so everything happened off-screen, but thousands of people heard the crashes and muted shouts. Later, Jason revealed that one of the cops had recognized him and called off the operation, realizing it was a hoax. But Jason was so rattled, he hadn’t streamed since. I hadn’t bothered looking into the details. I never imagined something like that would happen to us.
“Did they ever catch Jason’s caller?” I asked, hoping my flushed face didn’t give me away.
“Nope,” said Sanchez. “They have other times, though; it’s been happening a bunch, and we’re getting smart to it.”
“The caller pretended to be Jason, right?” said Akira.
“Yeah,” said Dylan. “They said he shot his father, and had his mother tied up in the garage.” Just like An0nym0us1’s script. A rock lodged in my throat.