The 17 (25 page)

Perhaps George was pretending to be Harness
. “I knew a completely different Harness. Are you sure it was Harness?”

“What do you mean?”

“They can pretend to be anyone. One of them actually pretended to be Mizuki for awhile. Did Harness use contractions?”

“What?”

“Long story.”

“You’ll have to catch me up on some of these longs stories someday.”

Mizuki skittered back to them and smiled broadly as she playfully bumped into Zack, knocking him off balance briefly. “They’re all on board, well, except for Setal, the slopped forehead guy. But fifteen out of sixteen isn’t so bad.”

Caroline winked at Zack. “See. You’re her bae, too.”

Zack mouthed “shut up” as Mikuki eyed them both, confused.

They heard a tapping on the microphone and peered up to see Apparat standing at the podium again. He cleared his throat and spoke. “Thank you all for coming, but you are about to embark on a taxing journey. Please, go back to your rooms and rest. The Ankhs cannot express their gratitude enough. Goodnight.”

The large steel doors swung open and the music, which Zack had scarcely noticed playing, had stopped.

“Well, I guess the party is over,” Mizuki quipped.

It certainly was.

Part III

Chapter Two

Where the Laws Don’t Apply

Zack didn’t know where he was, but he knew it was humid by the way sweat beaded on his forehead and by the way it rolled down his neck, absorbing into the collar of his tight gray nylon shirt with florescent orange accents.

His pants were made of the same moisture-wicking fabric and were also gray with the same orange stripes running down the side.

Despite the heat and humidity, he felt comfortable. Near him, resting against a tree was a large black backpack with a blazing red ankh symbol stitched on it. Zack knelt and unzipped the bag. He rummaged through it and found a canteen full of water, a generous supply of energy bars, a pocket knife and a flint. In the side pocket was an ominous looking dagger, an ankh symbol in plated silver on the handle. There was also a bulky black watch with a primitive digital display. It was much like a watch he remembered his father wearing long ago. He stared at it, the display empty, and pressed a small silver button on the side.

Zack was startled by a loud, shrieking series of rapid beeps as the display flickered and then read:
“34.”
He clutched at his ears to dull the screech.

He fastened it to his left wrist, stood and looked around to take stock of his surroundings. He was in a wooded area. Thin shards of sunlight filtered down to him through the thick canopy above.

The ground below his comfortable boots was damp and muddy and a light breeze tasseled his hair. The cool wind felt good on his sweaty face.

Zack listened for a noise—any noise—but heard none. It was eerily quiet.

Too quiet.

He slung the backpack over his shoulders, grabbed a long, crooked branch to use as a walking stick and ambled through the thick brush along a barely passable path to what he figured was the west.

Slender tree limbs whipped at him as he pushed forward. After about fifteen minutes of plowing through the bramble, he reached a clearing.

Thick grasses stretched up to his thighs and the wind was brisk in the open space. He gazed off into the distance and saw several markedly different terrains that jutted into one another: a forest much denser than the one from where he had just marched, a flat plain, a mountain range, a desert, and even an urban sprawl. It was as if diametrically opposed habitats were sewn together in a hodgepodge tapestry.

Zack felt simultaneous wonder and alarm.

Between his location and the vastly different locales on the horizon, he noticed a great oval sitting flat at the bottom of a long, sloping hill. A large structure with many windows rose upward.

It looked as if the center oval was spinning, but he thought it was probably an illusion. Where he was standing—an outer ring—was what was slightly moving in a clockwise motion.

It was a recreation of the ballroom in a much grander scale. The habitats he saw along the horizon were akin to the tables of food at the Saturnalia. Quite ingenious. The building was the center of the universe, perhaps. It was also a great place to start looking for Mizuki, Caroline and the others.

Zack carefully made his way down the steep embankment toward the building, his boots digging into the soggy hill. He nearly lost his footing a few times, but steadied himself with his hand.

As he made it to level ground, he was startled by the rapid beeping coming from his watch. He peered at it and was dismayed by what blinked back at him.

“33.”

Zack prowled around the building and looked for an entrance. He passed windows that were too fogged to see through and others that looked to be spray painted black. Finally, he came to a red steel door. He reached slowly for the handle and pulled. The door creaked open.

Tiny streams of outside light sneaked in through pin-sized holes in the grime and paint on the windows and provided just enough illumination for Zack to see a dusty hallway leading from one end of the building to another. As he walked, holding his makeshift walking stick up for protection, he could faintly see doors on both sides of him, some open, some closed.

He tried to skulk as quietly as he could, but his boots made a slight thud as they hit the concrete hallway.

Zack thought about calling out, but was either too prudent, or too afraid, to do so. Instead he came to an intersection in the hallway and peered to his left and then to his right.

Each passageway looked identical.

He decided to go right. He didn’t know exactly why he made that choice, but he made it. As he slinked down that hallway, he heard a banging come from one of the rooms.

Zack walked more briskly, treading as lightly as possible. The banging became louder and seemed to be coming from behind a door to his right. The door was cracked open and he heard groans coming from inside.

He swung the door open wider and slipped in, crouching as he walked.

He heard more moaning coming from the back of the room, school desks and chairs turned over.

Zack negotiated his way through the rubble, heading toward the mewl sounds, and saw an arm, bloody, poking out from under a desk. He knelt and levered the rubble off the body with the walking stick. It broke under the strain. He peered down and squinted.

It was Valentina.

She reached out with her quivering hand, grabbed him tightly by the wrist and pulled him down to her.

Her voice was weak and gravelly. “Not … safe. Go … Get out.”

“Who did this to you? Are there others in this building?”

Valentina struggled to speak, blood rolling from the corner of her mouth. “This … not what it seems. Go. Get …”

Her head tilted back, her eyes still open wide and her mouth slightly ajar. As he heard her last breath escape her lips, his watch beeped rapidly again.

The display read
“32.”

He heard the faint wailing cries of other watches.

He was not alone.

One could belong to Mizuki or Caroline. Just as easily one could belong to any of the other thirty-two who were still in the game, perhaps the one who had killed Valentina.

She lay there with bite marks made from small, sharp teeth in her stomach, left shoulder and neck.

Zack was frozen, scared and indecisive. Their plan—his plan—had no hope of succeeding if he could not find the others. They needed to stay together and stay protected. They needed to hole up somewhere and simply survive.

Zack, though, had no idea where to start.

Valentina’s cryptic warning did little to inspire him.

Zack closed his eyes, took a deep breath and stood. He walked slowly and carefully into the hallway and fish-eyed his surroundings fearfully; his heart thumped in his chest so quickly it hurt. He felt light-headed.

Don’t pass out, you loser. Don’t pass out.

He crept down the hall to where he thought he had heard the nearest beeping. His boots, wet with Valentina’s blood, squished and squeaked on the floor.

Zack heard a crash from behind him and quickly spun around. He heard another crash and a long yelp coming from a room two doors down.

Fight or flight?
Zack usually chose flight. It was his go-to move in any conflict. But this was certainly not any conflict. He could hide and find a way to stay alive, but it would do him no good. At least eighteen of them had to keep breathing, keep moving, keep running or none of this would matter.

Either they would die by a dagger yielded by another, or by the Ankhs themselves.

His back pressed against the cold wall, Zack scooted until he reached the door. He reached out, grasped for the knob and with a turn and a push, the door swung open with a creepy creak. He heard loud, lumbering steps coming toward the entrance.

Zack hunkered down and slid his back against the wall away from the door.

Into the hallway spilled a hulking figure; its chest heaved and blood dripped from its long, yellowish nails.

Zack craned his neck to get a better look and was shocked to see it was Splifkin. Even in the dim light his skin was a bright red. He swung his head around and glared at Zack, his chest still heaved and his eyes were full of bloodlust.

Foam spilled from the corners of his mouth, which was open and displayed his pointy teeth. Small drops of blood dripped from them.

“Go!” He screamed, and then growled, his hands squeezed into fists. “They have done something to me and I cannot control myself. Go!”

Zack turned and ran. He stopped midway down the corridor and looked back at Splifkin, who pounded his wide chest viciously three times and growled again, more for a release of pain, he thought, than intimidation.

Splifkin was in agony
—
either from the physical transformation he was experiencing, or the mental one.

“Go, Zack! I don’t want to kill you.”

Zack had heard enough—there was nothing he could do for him. Zack sprinted as fast as he could, lowered his shoulder and slammed into the door. It gave way and Zack spilled out into the baking sun.

Now Zack understood Valentina’s warning.

All was definitely not as it seemed.

†††

In the time it took for Zack to frantically climb the slope up to the ridge, his watch began its ominous tone.

“31.”

Zack collapsed to the grass, stared up at the beryl sky and wheezed. His grand plan was falling apart around him.

As failures go, this one was epic.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, but when he opened them, a figure stood over him and cast a shadow across his face. Zack scooted away frantically.

“Easy, Zack. It’s just me.” Waldan’s deep voice was reassuring.

He wore the same clothing as Zack and the same bulky watch around his wrist. Waldan grabbed Zack’s hand and pulled him to his feet with uncommon ease.

“Waldan, have you seen anyone else?”

Waldan cupped his hand over his large eyes and scanned the horizon. “Afraid not. There is a lot of ground to cover. They must have scattered us to the four winds. It’s going to be quite a task to locate everyone. I suggest we go to that central building and wait.”

Zack shook his head in panic. “Not a good idea. I was just there. Splifkin is slaughtering people in there.”

The sun was dipping rapidly.
Who knows the peril that would be unleashed in the darkness?

Zack gazed at his watch. “We have to find Mizuki and the others as soon as we can or this plan is going to fail.”

“We will, Zack. We will, but it’s going to be dark soon. We should find a secure place for the night.”

They marched deep into the woods. Waldan gathered branches and broke them over his rather thick thigh while Zack collected small rocks that he piled up in a circle. Waldan placed the broken branches carefully in the middle of the stone oval and started a small fire.

Waldan whispered, “We should keep it small so as not to attract the wrong kind of attention.”

Zack ate an energy bar and Waldan chewed on some unknown jerky he had discovered in his backpack as they stared somberly at the flames that licked at the darkness.

At least their watches hadn’t beeped in quite some time.

Zack yawned, prompting a small smile from Waldan. “I’ll take the first watch. Get some sleep.”

“That’s okay. Couldn’t if I tried.”

Waldan grinned and nodded. “At first light we should set out for the central building anyway. That’s where everyone will flock.”

“But Splifkin is there. Well, he’s sort of Splifkin.”

“That is where they will go. You went there. I was heading there. The others will surely try to go there as well.”

Zack feared for Mizuki and the others. He particularly feared for Mizuki, even though he found that callous and selfish.
Why should he care for her more than any other in this macabre show?

Because Caroline is right; she’s my bae.

Zack and Waldan were broken from their silence by the loud beeps of their watches. Zack prayed it didn’t toll for Mizuki. He looked down at his watch and squinted to make out the number in the light cast by the fire.

“30.”

They sat solemn and quiet and stared at the fire and the embers that zipped and streaked from it like shooting stars. They heard no other sounds other than the crackling of the wood and, occasionally, their worried sighs.

The sky began to brighten quickly. Waldan peered up, a confounded look on his face.

Zack, too, was unsettled by the early dawn.

“Must be because this outer ring is moving,” Waldan said.