12. 12 – Chess
12 – Chess
L yss stares up at me, her lips parted and her skin pale. Sweat beads on her forehead.
Despite myself, I lean down, placing the back of my hand against her forehead. Clammy, damp skin greets me. “Are you hurt?”
Irritation wars with worry when she stays silent. “For fucks’ sake, Lyss, tell me.”
“I think she’s in shock.” The guy I punched stands, gingerly poking his lip. “We could put her legs up against the wall.”
Ignoring him – despite the sudden urge to punch him again - I take a seat beside her, my hand finding hers. “Talk to me, Lyss. What is this place?”
“Wonderland.”
Turning, I glower at the guy who just won’t shut up, my eyes telling him exactly where to go.
His own stare is icy as he wipes the blood from his chin. “Where am I supposed to fuck off to, exactly? You’re on my bed, asshole. You asked where we were, so I’m kindly giving you the damn answer. Wonderland.”
Wonderland.
The pieces start to add up in my head.
“Did you make it inside?” the man asks me, eyebrows raising. “Into the club? How’d they get you?”
I shake my head. “I had a ticket. But I saw them carrying her up the stairs, tried to follow. They caught me.”
Lyss flinches.
Something glimmers in his eyes. “Did you tell anyone where you were going?”
My lips tighten, and the hint of hope fades rapidly. “Well. Welcome to the team. I’m Buck.”
I eye him carefully, nodding before I glance down to Lyss. She’s listening to us, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Is he the one?”
At the demand in my tone, her eyes slide to me. The fire begins to creep back in. “Are you seriously going to pick a fight with me over that? Now? We’re in a little life-or-death situation here, in case you didn’t notice.”
I hold her glare, return it with one of my own. “I don’t see a gun against your head right now.”
Although my stomach roils at her words. I look over to Buck. “Is she right?”
He nods. “These games make Wonder look like preschool. Nobody gets out without Red’s permission.”
Lyss laughs under her breath. “And she’s not likely to give it to me.”
An alarm sounds overhead, three short bursts of high-pitched noise followed by static.
“ All participants to your allocated bed .”
I glance down at Lyss. She waves a hand, her face still pale. “You heard them.”
Still with that fucking attitude. I glance at Buck’s bed, considering, and he crosses his arms. “Not a fucking chance. Your allocated bed. Follow the instructions.”
The guy on her other side is sleeping. I start for him, planning on pushing him off, but Alyss grabs my arm. “ Not him. Just – we’ll sort it out later. Go, Chess.”
“ Thirty seconds .”
A beeping noise sounds.
“Get on a fucking bed,” Buck hisses. “Quickly.”
Twisting, I eye the unconscious man with suspicion, even as Lyss pushes at me. “Is he the one?”
“You are fucking infuriating,” she snaps. But her cheeks flush. “ Later, Chess.”
I stalk to the end of the room, perching on the fucking tiny cot I woke up on.
This is insane.
Whatever is happening here… it’s insane.
The guy opposite sneers at me, still standing. He tugs on his rumpled blazer, clearly custom-made, and tries to fix his floppy, prep-asshole hair. “This is bullshit. I paid a lot of fucking money for my ticket, expecting a damn party, and this is what I get? I expect a refund—,”
Red spatters the gray walls behind him.
Noise erupts around me as his eyes dim, his body crumpling to the ground with a bullet through his forehead.
Crackling. That voice sounds over the intercom again. “ Silence .”
The whole room goes silent, eyes darting to the door as it creaks open. There are two men standing there, dressed in black. One lifts his gun back up as the other tosses filled brown paper lunch bags to the floor, followed by bottles of water. “One per participant. Stealing food is not permitted.”
Nobody argues over the bags. I snag one for Lyss too, taking it over to her and handing her a bottle of water.
She thanks me with a nod. And then—
“What the hell, Lyss?”
She pats my shoulder, ducking past me after leaving the bag I got for her next to the sleeping asshole I’m pretty sure she chose over me the other night. “You saved me carrying an extra one. Thanks.”
I glower at the male. Definitely the one . “Do they care if you kill someone in here?”
Clearly whoever runs this place has no qualms about it.
Buck’s voice sounds strained behind me. “I wouldn’t recommend it. Outside of approved activities, that is.”
I sit on the end of Lyssa’s bed, daring her to argue as she returns. She eyes me warily, but she still sits next to me as we open up the bags.
Her nose wrinkles. “I hate—,”
My sandwich is in her hands before she finishes speaking. “—uh, tuna.”
I fucking hate tuna too.
She eats the turkey quietly before nudging me. “Thanks.”
My chest tightens as I glance at her. “What the fuck are we going to do?”
“Survive.” We both look over at Buck. He crumples up his sandwich wrapper, aiming for the trash can placed just inside the door. “Or try to. Assuming Alyss here actually wants to, of course.”
I whip my head to her. “What the hell is he talking about?”
But they’re staring at each other.
“Nothing,” she says eventually. Evenly. “Ignore him.”
Opening my mouth, I go to press her further, but that asshole – as I’ve decided to call him in my head – starts to stir on the bed. Alyss is up in a moment, her sandwich discarded as she moves over to him.
He sits up slowly, his hand dragging over his face. And I get a front-row seat to the horror in his expression as he looks around, the dawning understanding. The pain, as he looks at her.
I stare down at my untouched food.
“Watch that one,” Buck says quietly. “Some people don’t care if they live or die. A dangerous ally to have in a place like this.”
“Him?” I eye the fucker again. He has his arms wrapped around Lyss as if she’s his , breathing her in like she’s fucking oxygen.
“No.” Buck lifts a shoulder when I look at him in confusion. “I was talking about our little chaos cannon there. Alyss.”
My throat tightens at his words. “She’s not our anything.”
But I tuck those words away to consider, watching her carefully.