These Deadly Games(63)

“Maybe he’s in the bathroom,” suggested Mrs. Bloom.

The five of us exchanged bleary-eyed, worried looks.

I tried propping myself on my elbows, but my right arm had fallen asleep while squished against the hard floor and was now a useless flopping appendage. “He wasn’t in his room?”

“No.” Mrs. Cullen gave me a confused look. “He came back here with you.” Oh no. If he wasn’t in his room, where on Earth could he be?

Zoey looked panic-stricken. If her mom found out we’d snuck out to play Manhunt, she was a dead girl walking. And it would all be my fault. She’d hate me forever, wouldn’t she? What if she sidled me out of our trio for good? I couldn’t lose my best friends over this.

“He left again later,” I said, surprised by how easily the lie came to me. “He wanted to sleep in his own bed. The floor’s hard as a rock.” I shook out my lifeless arm, demonstrating. Pins and needles prickled my fingertips as blood flow returned. Everyone nodded along with my lie.

“Oh,” said Mrs. Cullen. “You know, I didn’t even think to check his room. I just assumed he was here!” She laughed, shaking her head at herself. “I’ll take his things, I guess. Weird that he left them…” Matty rolled up Brady’s sleeping bag and cinched the straps as she gathered the rest of his stuff. “Even his phone…” she muttered, tossing it into his bag with the rest. Once the moms went back upstairs, we all stared at the empty spot.

“That’s why he didn’t pick up his cell,” said Matty.

“You guys, what if Brady isn’t in his room?” Zoey’s voice was laced with hysteria.

“He is,” said Randall. “You heard his mom. She didn’t check.”

“But what if he isn’t?”

I bit my lip, and different sorts of pins and needles prickled my spine. “He couldn’t still be hiding in the woods…”

“No way.” Matty checked his watch. “He’d’ve been hiding for, like, seven hours.”

“Maybe he fell asleep,” said Akira.

“Outside?” said Zoey. “It’s freezing.”

“Guys, stop.” Randall covered his face with his pillow. “I bet he watched us out his window, laughing his shrimpy little butt off.”

But I couldn’t shake the pinpricks of fear as I fished my toiletries bag from my backpack. My mouth tasted rancid. After getting all minty fresh upstairs, I headed back for the basement as someone rang the doorbell. Not a moment later, a frantic knock. Mrs. Bloom rushed over. “What on earth?” This time, she let in Mrs. Cullen along with her husband and eldest son, Andrew, dressed for church in a striped button-down and navy slacks.

“Brady’s not home.” Mrs. Cullen bristled. “He must be here.” Andrew spotted me and rolled his eyes, like he thought his mother was overreacting. But my stomach sank. Was she?

“He’s probably trying to get out of church.” Mr. Cullen chuckled and pushed his wire-rimmed glasses farther up his nose. His eyes sparkled like he’d be proud of Brady if that were true.

I raced back downstairs. “Brady’s not home. His whole family’s here.”

Zoey gasped.

“Ohhh, farts,” said Matty.

“D’you think he got kidnapped or something?” said Akira.

“Maybe the bears got him!” said Randall.

“Should we tell them what happened?” asked Akira. Zoey’s eyes widened, and my heart jolted. I’d already lied to her mother, and Zoey had gone along with me. Telling the truth now would get her into even more trouble.

Quick footsteps started down the stairs.

“What do we do?” Akira squeaked.

Zoey scowled at me. “This is all your fault.”

Panic buzzed in my chest. She was right. I couldn’t let Zoey get in trouble over this. “Stick with the story,” I hissed.

Before anyone could argue, Mrs. Cullen reached the bottom of the stairs. “Brady? This isn’t funny.” She searched the room, like he might be hiding in the shadows. Andrew watched, hovering at the foot of the stairs as she opened the creepy storage room door. “We talked about this. It’s just an hour a week.”

“He’s really not here.” I struggled to keep my voice steady. Mrs. Cullen stared me down, waiting for me to say something else—for anyone to say something else—but nobody did. The fewer lies the better.

Her eyes darted among us, her red curls more frazzled than earlier, like a measure of her rising panic. “But where could he be?”

We all shook our heads, dumbfounded.

That, we truly didn’t know. He had to be somewhere out there, out in the woods. But if we told her that now, she’d know we lied.

We’d only spun a thread of a lie, but it was enough to strangle us.





CHAPTER 27


“Hey!” Jeremy shouted.

I had to move. I had to run. But it was like my legs were rebelling against my brain’s neurons, frozen in place. Jeremy said something else, reached for something on his desk, then threw off his headphones and darted to the window. Recognizing me, anger washed over his face. “You!”

Craaaaaap.

He hurtled into the hall, and I bolted past his front stoop, shoving my phone into my pocket as I rounded the corner toward the front lawn. Did he go out the back door? Was he right behind me? As I glanced over my shoulder, I tripped over something, and my arms reflexively shot out before I bit it. My left palm smashed into a tree root protruding from the ground, and searing pain flamed up my wrist. I cried out, but there was no time to writhe in agony. I scrambled to my feet and dashed into the front yard, clutching my wrist as Jeremy burst out the front door in nothing but a black T-shirt and red plaid pajama pants.