CHAPTER 1

DING. The sound of a new email woke James up. Groaning, he rolled over and looked at his phone. 2:30 a.m. showed blurrily through the cracked screen. Way too early. Probably just junk mail. He rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. Two seconds later, though, his eyes flew open. He wondered if it was the hospital—more bad news for him and his grandpa. Or maybe someone was finally following up with him about a job application . . .

He jumped out of bed, heart pounding. He could barely see on his phone, so he moved to his ancient computer and jiggled the mouse. The screen lit up. There it was, one new message. Sent from someone named “Benefactor.”

He took a deep breath. Of course it wasn’t the hospital. Or any of the places he’d been applying for jobs. None of those places would send an email. Especially not at 2:30 in the morning.

Like he always did in the middle of the night, he listened for his grandpa’s breathing. The hiss and hum of the oxygen machine told him things were okay. He exhaled and tried to get his heart rate down.

“Thanks a lot, Benefactor.” Still, he read the first line in the email preview. He squinted to make sure he was seeing it right.

This message is for James Trudeleau, senior at Cleveland High School in East St. Paul. We have . . .

The preview cut off. James wavered between his bed and the computer desk. He could reach out an arm in either direction and touch both things. He stared at the ceiling for a minute and then gave in. He was up. He might as well read the rest of the message. It was probably just some stupid company trying to sell him something. Like he could afford to buy anything. Ever.

He said to no one, “Barking up the wrong tree, guys.” But he sat back down anyway and clicked open the message. He squinted again. He really needed glasses. But that was the least of the health problems in the Trudeleau household, so he would just hold off.

This message is for James Trudeleau, senior at Cleveland High School in East St. Paul. We have a proposition for you. You have been selected to participate in a contest. We will give you ten tasks to complete. Each task is worth $1 million. If you complete all ten, you will be awarded the full $10 million. If you do not complete all ten, you will be awarded nothing. If you do not complete the ten tasks before someone else finishes the contest, you will be awarded nothing.

If you wish to participate, you can sign the contract at the website below.

James’s eyes skimmed over the URL. He kept reading.

More information will be given once you sign. You have two days to decide.

We want to express our sympathy for your grandfather’s illness. We understand that a new experimental treatment could save his life, but his health insurance will not cover it. Think about our offer.

The Benefactor

James sat back in the chair, sweat beads multiplying down his back. How did they know all this about him? What was this?

The computer screen glowed in his dark room. The only other light came from the lamppost outside the apartment building. A shadow crossed the light, and James stood up fast, almost knocking the chair over. He crawled on his bed to the window and peeked out, down two stories to the street lamp.

A figure stood by the lamppost, leaning against it. James couldn’t see much except that the person wore dark pants and a dark shirt. He shivered. This person couldn’t be watching him, right? This had to be just a coincidence. He was being paranoid. The email was just a scam or a prank . . .

He went to the computer again and turned it off. The ancient thing whirred and clicked like an old-time movie projector. He crawled into his bed again but couldn’t resist looking out the window. Whoever had been standing there was gone, and James heaved a sigh of relief. Just get some sleep. With school tomorrow, he needed as much rest as he could get.

He was about to lie back down when a fluttering on the lamppost caught his eye. Some kind of banner was attached to the post. A slight breeze picked it up and showed the banner at a new angle. Now he could actually read what it said.

James. We’re waiting.

James slammed his body back against the wall, heart racing yet again. Seconds ticked by. Maybe minutes. When he was calm enough, he peeked around the window again.

The banner was gone.