8. REAPER
8
REAPER
M y brows furrow as I watch Siren dangling from her hair at the top of the old gym, making small talk with 343, who’s as good as dead on the ground. I watched the whole thing, been here since the second Siren pulled up, and yet, I still can’t seem to wrap my head around how the fuck we got here. What I do know is that Siren is too far ahead in her career to be making stupid fucking mistakes like this.
I’m disappointed. I expected more out of her. Is she really as good as I thought she was, or has she been flying by on sheer luck?
She’s in quite the predicament. There are weapons all over her body. She could easily reach for one of the many knives strapped to her thigh and cut her hair. But in order to do that, she would have to release the hold on her hair and risk scalping herself the second her body weight dropped. It’s not exactly a position I’d ever want to find myself in, nor would I be foolish enough to get myself in that position in the first place.
As for The Midnight Killer, I had high hopes for him during these games. I thought he’d be one to make me work for the kill in the final days, but to have watched a scrawny tech guy like 343 take him out is an embarrassment. Though if I’m honest, my hopes for The Midnight Killer began to dwindle the second he made the decision to leave breadcrumbs all over the internet. He should have laid low and let the weak ones battle it out first. Instead, he took a risk and this time, it didn’t pay off.
I’ve got to give it to 343, he played the game well. He’s smart. He’s aware of his strengths and weaknesses and knows how to use those weaknesses as strengths. It’s impressive, and if he hadn’t just paralyzed himself on a dumbbell, he had the potential to go far in this competition. That is until I inevitably took him out.
“So,” Siren asks, clearly having given up on trying to free herself. “What’s 343 mean anyway?”
Her gaze shifts down to the dying man, and the compassion in her eyes tells me she’s not just making small talk with him because she’s bored and awkward, it’s because she doesn’t want him to die while feeling alone.
He scoffs. “343. It’s the amount of letters in The Tech Guy.”
“That’s it?” Siren questions in disgust. “That’s the big secret of your name? I’ve been trying to work that out for years.”
“What do you want from me? I wanted a cool name with a bit of mystery. The Tech Guy is so . . . ”
“Boring? Unoriginal? Lacking?”
“Exactly.”
The slightest noise sounds from my left, and my gaze whips around to find the young girl I’d seen on the very first night—Shadow. Only there’s no way she could have gotten there without me seeing her, which could only mean that she was here before me. But that’s not possible. I followed Siren here right from the resort. There was no one else around. I watched as Siren checked her surroundings and made sure she wasn’t being watched or followed. Clearly she didn’t see me, but I didn’t expect her to. I’ve learned to be invisible. Shadow though, there’s no way she could have been there too. I don’t miss shit like this.
And yet, clearly I did, because this kid has been here longer than me, and it’s taken until now for me to have realized. I’ve been here for fifty-three minutes exactly, barely three feet away from Shadow.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I losing my edge?
No, that’s not possible. I’m too good, which could only mean that Shadow is better. But how? She’s just a kid. I’ve spent years perfecting my skills. I’m thirty-four and made my first kill nearly twenty years ago and ever since then, I have worked my ass off to make sure I was the best. And yet, here’s this kid, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old, and she’s capable of evading me.
The curiosity eats me alive. I need to learn more about this girl, figure out how she is the way she is, who made her like this, and what kind of bullshit she’s been through to ensure this level of competence.
My stare lingers on her when she lets out a sigh and turns to face me. “That was disappointing,” she says, pushing herself off the charred wall and striding toward me. Only as a general rule, nobody ever comes toward me, especially without even a hint of fear in her eyes. She walks right by me, stepping over discarded weights and burned rubble. She takes a few steps past me before turning back and meeting my stare. “I had high hopes for Siren. Looks like it’ll just be you and me battling it out at the end. Hope you can stomach the idea of going up against me. Not many can.”
Shadow turns and walks away into the night, and I stare after her a moment, trying to figure out what the fuck just went down, but when she disappears around the corner, I find myself going after her.
I hurry, wanting to catch up to her, only as I turn the same corner she just went around, I find the area completely bare. Not a soul in sight.
Where the fuck did she go? She truly is a shadow, nothing more than a ghost in the night, and I don’t doubt this kid is going to be the end of me.
Frustration burns through me. Nobody has ever bested me before, and it makes me uneasy, but if anybody is going to kill me, I’d prefer it be some kid over some poorly trained serial killer who learned everything he knows from watching true crime documentaries.
Returning to the gym to make sure Siren doesn’t scalp herself, I settle myself exactly where I was before, only this time, my presence doesn’t go unnoticed by Siren. Feeling the weight of her terrified stare locked on me, I glance up and meet her gaze, and while she’s fearful, there’s also something else there. Curiosity? Intrigue? Mortification? The only question is, do I save her or kill her?
Fuck.
Save her? Who the fuck do I think I am? I’ve never willingly saved anyone in my life, and now I’m looking at this woman as though I suddenly developed a moral compass.
What the hell is going on with me? First Shadow evades me, and now I’m willing to save someone who’s only going to try and take my life later. Maybe I’m getting soft.
I need to walk away. I need to forget about this woman and find something else to occupy my thoughts. Then, letting out a sigh, I do just that, turning on my heel and leaving just the way I came, only a soft plea fills the emptiness.
“Please.”
Siren’s voice is like a shot straight through the chest, pulling me up short.
“Reaper, please,” she begs, her tone almost inaudible. “You know I’m better than this. I’ve been dreaming about War Games for years. I can’t let it end like this. Give me a chance.”
I close my eyes, knowing I should let this go. Knowing I should walk away and forget about the woman who’s left me rock hard every fucking night for the past five nights. So why the fuck can’t I seem to put one foot in front of the other?
Siren is terrified of me, and asking me to return to help her would have taken a shitload of guts, so perhaps I need to locate my balls and show the same kind of strength. If she can step out of her comfort zone, then why the fuck shouldn’t I?
Swallowing past the unease, I turn and lock my gaze on Siren’s once again and watch as a strange mix of relief and fear flash through her eyes. She didn’t expect me to turn back or to show a scrap of compassion, and honestly, the idea is fucking with me too.
I make my way deeper into the charred gym, my eyes never straying from hers as I unsheathe a blade from the holster on my belt. Siren’s eyes widen, fearing the worst, but as I release the knife with a flick of my wrist and watch it sink deep into 343’s throat, she begins to relax.
“I suppose you’re going to want to take credit for that kill,” Siren mutters.
To be honest, I couldn’t give a shit about the credit. They’re all going to be mine by the end of the games anyway. Assuming Shadow doesn’t get the drop on me. But then, I don’t see how this is supposed to end. I won’t kill a child, no matter how good she is, so there’s no other option but for me to die.
I make my way toward her in silence, pulling a new knife from my hip.
“Ahh fuck. You are going to kill me, aren’t you? I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”
My gaze settles on the rope as I try to figure out the best way to get her down. It’s obvious I’ll have to cut her hair. She watches me in return, her gaze narrowed as though trying to read me, and when I lift my arm, readying to throw the knife, those deadly green eyes of hers spring wide with horror. “Oh hell no. If you even think about cutting my hair, I’ll gut you like a fish where you stand.”
I pause at that, dropping my gaze back to hers. She’s in the middle of being rescued from her stupid, foolish mistake, and she wants to threaten me? She’s in no position to make threats, but I still find her threat endearing. Even on the verge of death, she doesn’t let up on her attitude.
I think I like this girl.
Adjusting my hold on the knife, I let it fly through the air, severing the rope right above the knot in her hair, and like a heavy sack of shit, Siren drops to the ground with an ear-piercing scream.
“Fuck,” she grunts as her ass hits the floor, and I have no doubt that will leave a nasty bruise. She gets to her feet, rubbing her ass while fixing me with a filthy stare. “Really? Out of all the ways you could have gotten me down, that’s the one you chose?”
“I think the words you’re looking for are thank you,” I tell her, watching as she shrinks away, not having expected me to actually respond.
Her body stiffens, and she takes a reluctant step back while doing everything in her power to look unbothered by my presence.
Surprise, she’s failing.
“Thank you,” she says, the words sounding like poison on her tongue as she pulls her long plait over her shoulder. She gets busy doing what she can to release the remaining rope from her long strands while I stand here, unsure what to do.
“So, umm . . .” she starts awkwardly, her gaze flicking to the lifeless bodies of 343 and The Midnight Killer. “Are you going to take their IDs?”
I scoff. “You can keep them warm for me, Little Siren, but don’t worry, I’ll be back for them real soon.” And with that, I turn on my heel and walk away.