Chapter 118.
Alek opens her mouth and closes it, staring at the silver-haired man, dapper and put together as ever, but somehow diminished at the same time.
She feels her world is spinning—out of control—one final time.
I won?
How can that possibly be?
She can’t find the right words because she has no idea what they might be.
She closes her eyes instead. When she does, she finds one moment of peace: Imagining her mother’s face once Alek gives her the news.
“I . . . what?” she says.
“It has been decided that you are officially The One,” he says flatly, like he’s reading a weather report.
“We all failed,” Alek says. “Why me and not them?”
“And why not Tipton?” Jack asks. “He’s the only one of us not out here.”
“You didn’t quit,” he says. “You broke. You begged.”
Alek swallows. “But I didn’t surrender.”
Jack stares at him. “The safe word.”
Ward nods once. “The system only recognizes that one thing.”
He motions for them to follow him back around the corner, to a different elevator than the one that had brought them down to the 146th floor from the conference room.
As they approach it, they hear someone crying out for help from behind one last closed door down the hall.
This voice clearly belongs to Ant Tipton.
Clearly still locked inside his chamber.
Ward Hillshire doesn’t even break stride.
“Why is he still locked inside?” Alek demands. “If he said it—if he surrendered—why isn’t he out here?”
She is still dizzy after having been declared the winner, almost like one more jolt of augmented reality.
Ward doesn’t even slow down as he gestures for them to follow him toward the elevator.
“Because this isn’t mercy,” he says. “It’s procedure. And punishment.”
“I still don’t understand,” Alek says.
Another rasp of sound leaks from the door, small now, almost private—like the room is forcing it out of him again and again.
Alek takes a step toward the door, but Jack catches her gently by the elbow.
“Don’t,” he says. “That’s what they want. One more fight. One more panic. One more mistake.”
Ward presses the elevator button.
“All is about to be explained,” he says, sounding very tired all of a sudden. “By your new hosts.”
The elevator doors open. They all step inside.
The next voice they hear is Wyatt’s, coming from a small box high up in the corner of the elevator.
“I’d like to congratulate you on your great victory, Alek,” Wyatt says. “Well done.”
Alek looks up at the speaker. “Go to hell,” she says. “But heads-up—you’re not going to like it much. We were all just there.”
Jack looks up at the small box. “Where are you, Wyatt?” he asks. “I’d still like a word.”
“Waiting for you a couple floors up,” Wyatt says. “And before you say it—yes, I know. I know what it looked like. I know what it felt like.”
Alek’s hands curl into fists. “You let it happen.”
Then Wyatt says, “I didn’t design those chambers. And I didn’t have the legal authority to stop them once they started.”
“Legal,” Jack spits.
Wyatt exhales. “It’s frustrating because my father used the rules as weapons.
He knew what the contract demands and where the wiggle room is.
But when it comes to the final outcome: Rules are rules.
The only way any of you could win the money was to finish the final stage.
You can hate that. We do too. But it’s true. ”
Alek’s eyes narrow. “You said ‘we.’ Who else is involved?”
Wyatt doesn’t answer.
The doors begin to close. A hand shoots in and stops them.
Jimmy steps into the elevator. There is a bruise on his left cheek. There is a bandage over his puffy right eye.
But it’s him.
“Don’t worry,” he says, “I won the fight.”
Without saying a word, he reaches past Ward and presses “PH.”
He looks at Alek and Jack and Zhi.
Jimmy touches the bruise on his cheek.
“We don’t get to quit,” he says. “So we get smart.”
They ride the elevator in silence.