Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Gigi
The countdown begins.
Ten … nine … eight …
Utter darkness surrounds me, and I tilt my chin up towards the ceiling, which is now sealed shut, capturing us inside.
The generator groans as the system reboots, lighting the arena in flashing strobes and bursts of pulsing ultraviolet.
Everything glows in sharp, electric colour, jagged graffiti sprayed across walls, green arrows leading the way.
The red target on my chest flashes with a steady rhythm.
Seven … six … five … four …
I twist to the side, but Jamie has disappeared, although he could just be lurking in the shadows. I adjust my vest, pretending the weight of it isn’t too heavy.
“Try not to die.”
I don’t know whether the fucker was just trying to scare me, but I force myself to steady my breathing as panic quickens my heart.
Three … two … one …
“Good luck,” the robotic voice echoes overhead. “Let the game begin.”
I remain still, hovering near the safety of the corner.
My fingers wrap round the laser gun – smooth, plastic, and humming faintly with energy – and for a second, I feel like a child again.
Jack and I are simply at a children’s party for one of his school friends, with equipment not too dissimilar to this.
A recruit’s chuckle echoes just ahead of me.
My ears strain, and in the distance I hear more people.
Laughter, high and wild, far from the screams of pain I anticipated, and the sudden screech of someone getting tagged, followed by a chorus of, “Gotcha!” bouncing off the steel walls.
No sounds of gunfire or anything equally as malicious.
Fuck. Jamie was truly trying to get under my skin.
I might as well enjoy this while I can.
Fog builds up by my feet, the curls of smoke smelling artificial now we’re enclosed in this makeshift game. My combat boots thud softly on the floor as I move through the maze, ducking low behind a partition lit with flickering purple strobes.
A flickering target sprints my way. I throw my back to a crate, my heart hammering against my vest. I peer round the corner, only to see a flash of movement in the distance and a silhouette outlined in glowing blue.
“TAKE THAT!” they shout. “Should have found a better hiding spot.”
The victim retorts, “Prick!”
The recruit snickers, starting a run in the opposite direction. The light across their chest blinks, alive and targetable, disappearing into the far distance.
Straining my gaze through the dark, I try to keep a watchful eye on the eliminated player, but his target drains of colour. He’s simply disappeared.
Then I hear it – a step too close.
I whip round, my gun raised, heart leaping.
A bright red beam slices through the dark from the barrel.
A woman rounds the corner quicky, walking straight into the firing line.
She skids to a stop, her light blonde ponytail swaying behind her, as the laser hits her square in the chest. She drops her chin with a defeated huff.
The light on her chest blooms in colour, signalling she’s been caught.
“Ah, man!” the girl sulks. “I guess you got me.”
“Are you hurt?”
“They aren’t real bullets. You know that, right?”
She lowers herself to the floor and props her back against the wall. The colour of her targets drains slowly until she’s blended into the scenery. Through the dim light of the strobes, I still manage to see her hugging her knees to her chest, and the quirk of her brow.
Right – focus.
Holding the gun close, I pick up my pace, heading in the other direction.
People run past, letting out those same excited screeches and the odd defeated curse.
A mop of dark red hair rushes past me, forcing me to retreat backwards.
I barely catch a glimpse of Poppy as my heels hit something solid, and I stumble.
My hands catch my fall, a fine layer of dirt, dust, and something thicker sticking to my palms. I bite back a silent curse at the liquid covering my hand. The ultraviolet light has it appearing dark and thick.
I lift my head, realising I’ve tripped over the player I watched lose to his teammate only a few minutes ago. I didn’t notice him in the dark without his target. His legs are spread on the floor, knees splayed out at his sides. A trip hazard in plain sight.
“I’m so sorry.” I pull myself to my feet. “I didn’t see you there.”
I wipe my hands on my thighs, noticing the sticky liquid transfers easily.
Not only is it now coating my armour, but the squelch of my shoes gives away that it’s underneath my feet too.
Whipping my head to the side, panic strikes me still as I follow the trail to the man’s chest. I can feel sweat gathering beneath my vest, sliding down my spine.
I prod his side with the end of my gun.
No twitch. No movement.
He’s been shot.
The sticky liquid is blood.
Every breath I take feels like breathing in hot, acidic air. A scream – short, wet, and cut off – sounds somewhere in the distance, quickly confirming my suspicions.
Aggravation sweeps through me, pouring out of me with a strangled yell.
I fucking knew it!
It’s like I can hear Richard’s snicker in the back of my skull as everyone comes to the realisation they’ve been sent on a sadistic killing spree.
Their friends and teammates, no less. I glance through the darkness, towards the blonde girl I targeted with my laser, barely seeing the outline of her body against the steel floor.
I killed her. I fucking killed her.
“He’s dead?” Poppy asks flatly.
I spin back round. She’s standing beside the man, prodding her foot into his hip. Raising her head, she meets my eye, and my hands tighten round my weapon on instinct. If she wanted to kill me, this would be the prime opportunity to do it.
Instead she surprises me by throwing her gun strap over her shoulder as if I’m little threat to her. Months ago, that confidence would have severely pissed me off.
“What happened to him?”
“Shot,” I say. “There’s blood coming from the vest, but I didn’t hear a gunshot.”
“What the fuck is that?” B jogs up to our side, his palms falling to his knees to inhale deeply. Eyes wide, he pants, “Is he … is he dead?”
“Yes,” Poppy snaps.
Andy trails behind him, his head ducked low and his movements sluggish. My eyes are trained on him, watchful of his every step, though it’s difficult through the rising fog.
Poppy asks, “Did you hear that?”
Distracted, I say, “Hear what?”
She points upwards with the tip of her white-glossed fingernail, but I hear nothing.
“Wait,” she tells me impatiently.
I train my focus, listening out for any peculiar noise through the commotion. That’s when I hear it – faintly, in the distance. A near-silent, high-pitched whistle, followed by a whoosh as it impales its chosen target.
“A silencer,” Andy whispers under his breath like we’re not even here.
I nod, turning towards him, but his eyes are trained on the ground.
“I saw a flash,” Poppy says, placing her hand against the plastic wall. “Not from the laser. Like a camera flash, but with no sound.”
Whether they’re hidden in plain sight or in a secret compartment within these walls, they’re eliminating the fallen soldiers. Quite literally.
“So …” I turn between them all. “What’s the plan?”
“We just won’t shoot.” B nods stiffly, convinced he’s formed the perfect plan. “They can’t kill the players if there’s no more to be eliminated.”
In the distance, another toe-curling scream rips from someone’s throat.
“We have to tell the others,” I say sternly.
A hum kicks in from the speakers overheard, Richard’s voice pouring through. “It seems a few of you have rallied together. But if you don’t continue your play, I have no problem targeting individuals or setting off a few explosives.”
B’s eyes look like they’re close to falling out of their sockets.
“There’s still far more loyalty to be taught. The game will end when I believe you’ve learned your lesson.”
My eyes flare. Loyalty? Fucking lessons?
Isn’t killing off recruits enough of a lesson?
The gun vibrates softly in my grip as if it’s begging to be used.
“We just need to distract them …” B pants, breathless, his voice hushed in the hope Richard might not hear. “Just shoot where we know is safe, and that’ll keep them quiet.”
He hurries backwards a few paces, too fast for us to register what’s happening. Wrapping his finger round the trigger, he fires the laser haphazardly to the side.
“NO!” Poppy and I both scream.
But his shit aim has already lit up the target on Andy’s chest like a Christmas tree. Andy’s distracted, his attention trained on the floor, oblivious to how he’s now a walking target for an incoming bullet.
The light on his chest flares bright like a racing heartbeat.
“I’m sorry! Oh fuck, I’m so sorry!” B mutters quickly, rushed and panicked, shaking the gun round. “I didn’t mean to hit him! I was trying to—”
“Put it down!” I snap. “Now.”
He drops it immediately and throws up his palms, the gun clanging against the floor with its fall. I look up, my breath shaky. Andy’s attention finally drops as the target eventually loses its light. Poppy whips her head towards me, a flash of fear in her gaze.
I don’t even think, acting on pure instinct as I chuck myself on top of Andy. We fall to the floor in a scuffle, his back taking the brunt of the impact. Through the darkness, the burst of white light flickers, and I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself.
The faint whistle comes quickly. Like a blade slicing through my skin, the bullet catches my side, hot and sharp.
FUCK.
My hand catches my waist tightly. It’s only a graze, but God, it hurts.
Andy’s eyes flare suddenly. This close, I’m able to see the extent of his tiredness – the bloodshot eyes and the purpling bruises underneath his dark eyes.
“Get … get off me!”
“Andy,” I try.
His thrashes grow frantic and feral.
“GET OFF!” he screams. “OFF! OFF! OFF! GET. OFF!”
Despite appearing incredibly weak to the naked eye, he shoves me off with force. The push throws me onto my back, and my skull hits the concrete. I hiss through my teeth, spots lighting the edges of my vision as I watch him bring himself to his feet on shaky legs.
“No, no, no. Oh fuck,” he mumbles, shaking his head faster, more determined by the second.
My head starts to spin from a mixture of the pain searing my side and the concussion straining my focus.
“She-she jumped in front of me! I didn’t touch her, I swear.” Andy’s head whips to the side as someone approaches, and he throws his hands towards me. “I don’t know why she did it. It’s the first time I’ve seen her in months.”
What. The. Fuck?
I hiss at the pain, palming my skin where the graze throbs.
Through the haze, I watch as Richard raises his palm, silencing Andy quickly with the rude gesture. Slowly, he approaches my side, staring down at me with that menacing, calculated scowl.
“I hope you take my threats seriously now, Miss Thomas.”
I blink, focusing my attention on his mouth as it forms an inhuman smile.
“You signed your life away after walking on that rope. You will always be part of the Circle, and you will always answer to me.”