18. Carey
Carey
Morale was low at breakfast the next morning. Everyone at the table seemed to be suspicious of everyone else in the room, and hardly anyone was in the mood for talking, including me. I kept looking around instead, silently studying each face and wondering which one could belong to the Game Master.
I thought Rhys and Hudson still looked good for it, but I wasn’t certain. Anyone else in the room could be guilty too. Or maybe Brooke was right at the beginning, and the Game Master really was an outsider who lied to us in order to sow discord. I had no way of knowing, and it was driving me crazy.
Speaking of crazy… there was one face I was studiously avoiding. Maverick.
Last night’s revelation about my ridiculous crush on him embarrassed the hell out of me, and I kept worrying that he’d see the feelings written all over my face if we locked eyes. Thankfully, he was at the opposite end of the table, so there was only a slim chance of that happening.
Hardly any of us were sitting in our assigned seats, and we’d once again splintered into distinct groups. Courteney had moved away from her spot near Zach, due to the awkwardness between her and April, and she was now hanging out with Maverick, Jasmine, and Kiara at the top end of the table. Hudson, Rhys, and Tate were still in their nasty trio in the middle, and my own friend group had the far end.
It was awkward as hell for me and Brooke, who were right in the middle of April and Zach’s newfound drama. Zach kept trying to make conversation, and April would occasionally look over at him with sparkling eyes and an open mouth like she was just about to respond. Then she’d suddenly seem to remember what he did to her sister, and her mouth would clamp shut as a stony expression returned to her face.
One of the speakers crackled on the wall. “Players, please make your way to Gaming Room 3.”
In glum silence, we trudged out of the drawing room and headed down the hall to find that another wing of the house had opened.
“This must’ve been the dining hall,” Courteney said, staring at the double-wide entrance. “It’s in the right spot, and the entryway looks exactly the same.”
“I think you’re right,” April said, doing a slow spin to assess the space beyond the doors. “Same place, but it’s been renovated.”
I looked around, wondering what fresh hell was in store for us in this room. The walls around us had been painted with colorful murals depicting a playground, and there were also several painted arrows on the floor pointing toward a walled-off area with an arched entryway. A wooden sign hung over the entryway, informing us that a maze lay beyond it.
Once we were all inside, the doors slammed shut behind us, and a clicking sound followed, indicating that we were locked in until the game was over.
“Welcome, players. Today, we’re playing my version of Tag,” a robotic voice said from a speaker on the left wall. “Please make your way over to the table on the right. There, you will find the game rules along with the playing pieces. Follow the instructions, or there will be dire consequences.”
The underlying message was clear: play or die.
We headed over to the table to find eleven strange items laid out in neat rows. They looked like thick silver collars with hinge openings at the back and black strings hanging from the front. A small light bulb was attached to the end of each string.
“Are these for us to wear?” Jasmine said, gingerly poking at one.
“Yup.” Maverick nodded, eyes scanning the rule sheet. “I’ll read this out loud, okay?”
Everyone nodded their assent, and Maverick began. “Each player must equip one of the collars and press the small button on the right to turn it on. When activated, the light on the end of the string will turn green. After that, the game timer will begin. Players can either enter the maze or hang back in the playground area, and the aim is to tag other players by tugging on their strings to turn their lights red. A buzzer will sound whenever someone is tagged, in order to alert everyone else, and those whose lights are turned red will face their demise once the timer runs down to zero. You can tag and kill as many players as you want, or you can choose to tag none at all. However, at least one person’s light must be red by the end of the game, and the collars must always remain on. If every light is still green when the timer runs out, you will all die. You have twenty minutes to complete the game.”
The horrifying truth dawned on all of us at the same time.
“Carey was wrong yesterday,” Kiara said, slowly shaking her head. “There’s no way for all of us to survive this game, no matter how strategic we are. At least one of us has to die.”
“Yup.” Maverick set his jaw. “That’s the rule.”
“No fucking way.” Zach fervently shook his head. “There must be some way we can all survive.”
“I think so too,” Brooke said. “There must be something obvious that we’re all missing.”
April shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said, voice quavering. “The rules are pretty clear. One light must be red by the end.”
“So then we just take someone’s collar off and turn it red.”
“No. It clearly says the collars must remain on us at all times,” Maverick said. “There’s no way around it. Someone has to die.”
“How does the collar kill us?” Kiara asked, wide eyes filled with dread. “Will our heads explode?”
Rhys frowned as he examined one of the collars. “I don’t see any kind of incendiary device on this,” he said. “I’m guessing there’s some sort of mechanism inside that slowly tightens it and chokes the person to death.”
“Oh my god. I think I’m going to be sick,” Jasmine said, leaning against the edge of the table. “Being choked to death is one of my worst nightmares.”
Hudon smirked. “I thought most girls were into choking these days.”
“Are you fucking serious right now?” April snapped, eyes narrowing. “You think now is the time for a dirty sex joke?”
“Who says I’m joking?”
“Hudson, unless you have something constructive to say, shut the fuck up,” Maverick said, face twisting into a scowl.
Tate stuck his hand up. “I have something constructive to say,” he said in a strangely flat tone. “Someone has to die, and I think it has to be Carey. Last one in, first one out.”
I shrank back, mouth going dry.
“What?” April’s eyes bulged, and she grabbed my arm. “No!”
“Yes.” Tate’s eyes glittered maliciously as he looked around the group. “If we have to pick someone, it makes sense for it to be her.”
“Sorry, but I agree,” Kiara said. “Most of us barely know Carey. So obviously we pick her.”
“Stop talking about her like she’s not in the room!” Zach snapped. “She’s right here, and she’s a fucking person! Treat her like one!”
“Okay. Fine.” Tate’s gaze fell on my face. “Carey, we’re choosing you to die. Got it?”
“No, you’re not!” April shouted, stepping in front of me. “Stay the fuck away from her!”
He shrugged. “I can tag you too if you want to get in my way,” he said. “But either way, I’m tagging Carey. She’s the one who really needs to go.”
“You’re not going to get me,” I said in a low voice, shaking my head. “Not if I get you first.”
“Oh, sure. You’ll totally tag me first with those short, skinny little arms of yours,” he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Yeah, sorry, Carey, but you don’t stand a chance,” Jasmine added, arching a brow. “Guess it’s time to say goodbye, huh?”
“Jesus, can you all shut the fuck up?” Maverick said, slamming a hand on the table. “Let’s just put the collars on, start the game, and see what happens. Okay?”
I swallowed hard, rooted to the spot in terror. April put her collar on with trembling hands, and then she helped affix mine to my neck. “Don’t worry,” she whispered as it clicked shut. “We’ll defend you. Someone else will be gone by the end of the game.”
“Can everyone activate their collars now?” Rhys called out. “I want to get this over and done with.”
We all pressed our buttons with shaky hands. My light turned on, green like the others, and at the exact same time, an enormous red digital timer on the ceiling switched on and started counting down from 20:00.
“Run, Carey!” April screamed, shoving me in the back. “Hide in the maze!”
Adrenaline flooded my veins, and I sprinted away. Just before I entered the maze, I turned my head over my shoulder to see April clawing at the back of Tate’s sweater to hold him back from going after me. Zach and Brooke were standing by, watching helplessly, and the other six players were heading for the maze.
I whirled back around, ran inside, and took the first left. Seconds later, I heard footsteps pounding on the ground somewhere to my right. I breathed a short sigh of relief, grateful that no one had picked the same path as me.
There was a sudden scuffling of footsteps behind me, and someone grabbed my sweater and yanked me backward. My heart sank. I wasn’t alone on my path after all.
My attacker spun me around, and I came face to face with Rhys.
“Look,” he said in a low voice. “I’m going to give you a chance, because I know exactly how you feel right now. Everyone is gunning for me too thanks to that little theory you and your friends put forward yesterday. So I’m going to let you hide now, and I’m going to try and hide too. But if I don’t hear that buzzer before the last five minutes of the game, I’ll find you and pull your string just so I know at least one person is red. Got it?”
I nodded silently, heart pounding. Rhys stared at me for a second longer. Then he turned on his heel and ran off in the opposite direction. I spun back around and kept heading down my original path.
I spent the next several minutes slipping down new paths, peeking around corners, and skidding to rapid stops so I could turn tail when I heard someone coming. There were a lot of shadowy nooks and cracks built into the painted walls, which allowed me to save myself from multiple close calls.
“I saw her come this way!” Jasmine called out to Kiara as they dashed past the hidden nook that I’d wedged myself into mere seconds ago. “Shit, where did she go?”
“That way!” Kiara said. “I can hear something over there!”
Their footsteps faded into the distance. I took a deep breath and stepped out onto the path again. So far, I’d had seven near-misses, and the timer on the ceiling was down to six minutes. If I kept making my way through the maze and hiding in the nooks, I could save myself for the rest of the game. Rhys had promised to tag me if no one else was tagged, but that plan hinged entirely on his ability to find me. If I was careful, that wouldn’t happen, and I would survive against all odds.
Someone had to die, though. That grim reality kept gnawing at me, whipping up a strange combination of fear and guilt deep inside. Obviously, I didn’t want to be caught and tagged, but if I wasn’t, someone else would be tagged by the end of the game to avoid the outcome of everyone dying. I knew that wasn’t my fault, but still… I couldn’t help but feel partially responsible for whoever ended up losing their life today.
I spied a large black crack on the wall ahead, and I hurried over to it, assuming it was another nook to hide in. Unfortunately, it was just a huge streak of black paint.
“Shit,” I muttered, whirling around to assess my options. I could go back the way I came, or I could choose between the left or right.
I picked the left again. That direction had saved my life many times, so I figured it made sense.
I sprinted several yards, only to find myself at a dead end. I whirled back around and skidded to a heart-rending stop as I spotted Tate striding toward me.
“Gotcha,” he said, thin lips stretched into a smirk. “You can’t hide forever.”
Panic flooded me. “Please,” I said, lifting my palms. “Don’t do this.”
He advanced, one slow step at a time. “There”s only three minutes left, and I’m not dying in this fucking place,” he snarled, eyes narrowed on the green light dangling over my chest. “It has to be you.”
“Wait!” I lifted a trembling hand. “Just wait! Please!”
He glanced at the timer on the ceiling. “I’m a generous guy, so I’ll give you a minute or two for your last words. But then I’m yanking that string, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“Just listen to me,” I said, voice cracking with fear. “It doesn’t make sense for you to tag me.”
Tate’s brows lifted, and he folded his arms. “Oh, yeah? Why?”
“You’ve been trying to convince everyone that I’m the Game Master since yesterday morning, so you obviously really believe it’s me. Right?”
“So what?”
I cleared my throat and raised my chin. “If I am the Game Master, and you pull this string, my light won’t turn red, because obviously I’ll have some sort of failsafe built in to protect me. Then every player’s light will still be green at the end of the game, and that means everyone dies. Except me, obviously. Do you really want to risk that happening?”
Tate smirked. “Nice try, but I’ve been thinking about this shit for the last fifteen minutes, and here’s what I’ve realized,” he said, slowly rubbing his chin. “If you’re not the Game Master, you’ll die after I tag you. If you are, you’ll want to keep hiding your identity while so many of us are still alive, because you can’t fight off ten people at once. So you would never admit that your collar malfunctioned because you’re the Game Master. Instead, I think some sort of automated announcement would play, telling us there was a technical issue and therefore the game is forfeited as it couldn’t be completed, despite you clearly losing by getting tagged on camera while the footage is supposedly being live streamed to the Game Master.” He paused and pointed to one of the many surveillance cameras overhead. “None of us would die then. We’d be allowed to move on to the next game, and everyone would see it as a lucky escape. But you know what, Carey?”
“What?”
He took another step closer. “If that actually happens, I’ll know you really are the Game Master, and I’ll tell everyone else. Then it’s ten against one. I really like those odds.”
“Tate, please…”
“Think about it.” A malicious grin spread over his face. “If you’re not the Game Master, you’ll die. But if you are, your identity will be revealed, and we can take you down. Win-win, the way I see it.”
“Don’t do this to me. Please,” I said, eyes stinging with tears.
“If it’s not you, it has to be someone else. You’re the best option we have.” He glanced upward. “Time’s up.”
“Please!” I screamed. “No!”
Tate lunged at me, arms outstretched. In a futile attempt to dodge him, I wound up slipping and falling flat on my ass with a painful thud. At the same time, footsteps pounded on the path ahead. Maverick appeared right behind Tate, and one hand shot out over his shoulder to tug on his string.
A shrill buzzer sounded, and Tate’s light turned red. At the same time, a raucous cheer resounded through the maze. “Someone finally got her!” Hudson shouted distantly. “We’re all good!”
Tate’s jaw dropped as he looked down at his newly red light. Then he slowly turned to face Maverick. “What the fuck, man?” he spat out. “We agreed it would be her!”
Maverick stared down at him with a stony expression. “I didn’t agree.”
Tate lunged forward, presumably to tug on his string as a parting revenge shot. Maverick anticipated it, and he quickly knocked Tate’s hand away and shoved him backward.
Nine seconds later, the timer ticked down to zero.
Tate was shaking like a leaf now, hands frantically clutching at his neck. “Get it off me,” he said. “Please! Stop it!”
The collar was slowly tightening, just like Rhys predicted, and Tate’s face and neck were turning crimson. “Stop it,” he croaked, eyes bulging. “Help me!”
Maverick stepped forward and yanked me to my feet. “Come on,” he said tersely. “We don’t need to see this shit.”
He led me down the path, one arm hooked around my shoulder. Neither of us looked back.
When we finally reached the maze entrance and stepped out, we were greeted by a sea of stunned faces.
“Oh my god,” Jasmine said. “She’s alive?”
“What the fuck?” Hudson roared, charging toward me. “You fucking bitch!”
Maverick held up a palm and stepped partway in front of me. “It wasn’t her. It was me,” he said. “I killed Tate.”
Hudson stopped dead in his tracks, face contorted with slack-jawed shock. Then he backed down and trudged over to Rhys, jaw clenched and hands balled at his sides. As much as he despised Maverick, he clearly knew he was below him in the pecking order here.
April ran over and threw her arms around me. “I’m so sorry,” she said, voice cracking with emotion. “I stopped Tate for as long as I could, but he kept threatening—”
I cut her off. “Don’t apologize. You gave me the head start I needed, and it worked. I’m alive!”
Brooke and Zach came over and hugged me too, whispering their relief that I’d survived. Neither of them would meet my eyes when I drew back, and I knew exactly why.
At the start of the game, both stood back and watched as April wrestled with Tate, risking her own life to save mine. They weren’t willing to do the same, and now they were ashamed of themselves.
I understood their choice, though. Our friendship didn’t automatically obligate them to risk their lives for me. Also, deep down, I knew that things were probably going to deteriorate into an ‘every man for himself’ situation at some point during these twisted games. That wasn’t Brooke or Zach’s fault.
Only the Game Master was to blame.
An announcement from the nearest speaker informed us that the rest of the day was free for us to do whatever we wanted. No one wanted to do much, though, and no one seemed interested in talking either. Morale had never been lower. Despite Tate’s general unpopularity in this crowd, his death was a stark reminder that these games and their consequences were real.
Lunch was eaten in fraught silence. At one o’clock, a text message ordered us to our bedrooms for five hours so the drawing room could be cleaned and prepared for dinner. We were warned of dire consequences if we disobeyed and went out in the hall during these five hours, and no one wanted to risk finding out what those consequences were.
Dinner was served at six. Afterwards, people either went back to their rooms to read or hung back in the drawing room to talk in huddled groups. I stayed for a while to hang out with April, Brooke, and Zach, but the mood was tense and awkward, and we all decided to leave just after eight.
I returned to my room to shower and read in bed. I left my door open so I could see and hear what was going on outside, and by nine, the last group members who were still out—Rhys and Hudson—were trudging back to their respective rooms.
I got up to close and lock my door, but when I reached it, I hesitated, hand hovering over the handle. Then I took a deep breath and headed for Maverick’s room for the second night in a row.
This time, he answered when I knocked. He was shirtless, skin glistening with tiny droplets of water. I gulped, trying to push aside the mental image of him in the shower. That was the last thing I needed to be thinking about right now.
“What do you need, Carey?” he asked brusquely, staring down at me.
“I need to know why you did it,” I said, boldly matching his gaze.
“Why I did what?”
“Why you saved me in the game today.”
He was silent for a moment. When he finally replied, his voice was low. “You know why.”
“No. I actually don’t know at all.” I folded my arms. “You hate me. You’ve always made that very clear.”
“You’re right,” he said softly. He was staring right at my lips. “I hate you.”
“So why did you save me from Tate today?” I demanded, eyes narrowing. “It’s not the first time you’ve helped me, either.”
Maverick rubbed his jaw and looked away. “I already answered your question.”
“No, you just gave me some bullshit about already knowing why, and I’m telling you, I don’t know why! So tell me. Now!”
He returned his steely gaze to me. “Fine,” he growled, chest heaving. “I’ll fucking tell you why, Carey.”
With that, he enveloped my face in his hands, drawing me close before he crushed his lips to mine.