We laid their bodies in the shed.
The ground outside was frozen, much too hard to attempt a burial. It would stay that way until spring, if one ever came to this godforsaken digital valley.
Corbin took off in the night. One minute he was with us, staring at Liesel’s lifeless body. The next he was barreling wildly through the trees and down the street. Sam and Floyd wanted to go after him, but it was pointless. Corbin had to find his own peace, same as everyone.
Noah was taking Hector’s loss hard. Not everyone would notice, but I knew the signs. Flat tone. Robotic motions. A blank countenance to hide the anguish. Noah had tried everything he could think of to convince Hector to accept a life, but Hector wouldn’t be swayed. I tried not to think about it.
There were lots of things I couldn’t think about.
My mind flashed back to the garage. Noah with his back to me, shoulders hunched as he urged me to pull the trigger.
Four times, each more difficult than the one before. Tears had streamed down my face. I’d never forget the awful sounds, or the stench of gunpowder mixed with blood and singed hair. I never wanted to touch a gun again.
But I would. Had to. Inside the Program, I’d never be without one.
The scene replayed over and over in my head. Shot. Fall. Vanish. Then Noah would reappear, struggling to rise each time, his body and clothes repaired but the blood and gore on the ground, the walls, and the front of my shirt telling a different story.
Shot. Fall. Up.
Shot. Fall. Up.
Shot. Fall.
Each time he’d begged me to do it again, even as he lost control of his body. They were the worst minutes of my life, and that’s saying something. I’d run away when it was over. Left him there alone, choosing to hide and weep rather than face what I’d done. It had taken me hours to compose myself, and even then it was mostly for show. Later, after Hector and Liesel were lost, I’d surrendered to sleep too long deferred.
This morning I felt stronger. Yesterday had been a nightmare beyond description, but we’d gotten through it. Almost everyone had survived. We’d evaded Sarah’s scythe by working together, a fact we could be proud of.
People were looking to me for what came next. I didn’t have an answer yet. The bonfire was still smoldering—by now Ethan and Toby had to know where we were. They could be staring across the lake right now, watching Noah’s house as I sipped tea by the kitchen window and looked back at them.
There was a noise behind me. I turned as Noah came into the kitchen.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
He joined me by the window. For a moment we stood quietly at each other’s side, gazing down at the frozen valley. The temperature was still polar—a thermometer on Noah’s deck read exactly zero. I imagined Sarah snickering as she fine-tuned the crappy weather. I had no idea what to do about her. She was untouchable. Left unchecked, she’d grind us into dust.
“I don’t think we can stay here,” Noah said.
I eyed him with a frown. “Why do you say that?”
He stepped back and leaned against the island, crossing his arms. “Fuel, first off. The generator needs four canisters every twenty-four hours, and my dad and I only stockpiled twenty. That gets us through a few more days, but then . . . back to the Stone Age.”
My spirits deflated. “I can’t think of a better place to go. Carl says the quarry is wrecked. The trailer park burned, and was never great anyway. Same with Starlight’s Edge. The liberty camp is just a bunch of shacks that can’t be defended, and you said the ski resort was out of commission, too. That leaves the downtown area, which Ethan controls, and these neighborhoods across the lake. Your house is the highest point over here, with a single access road. I think we’re stuck here by default.”
Noah clicked his tongue. “Another storm like the last one, and we could get cut off. My backyard ends in a twenty-foot vertical cliff down to the next street. The cul-de-sac really is the only way in or out. Plus, we don’t have enough food for this many people. If Sarah keeps on adding these insane obstacles, we’re going to have to make a play for the village.”
My mouth worked, but nothing came out. I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly all my doubts and fears piled on top of me and I couldn’t breathe. “I . . . I don’t know . . .”
Noah eased forward and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Drew me close. I leaned into his embrace, trying to siphon off some of his strength. I put my head against his chest as he pulled me in. I felt a sudden urge to connect, my body responding without conscious thought. To lose myself for a few moments would be such bliss.
A throat cleared. I looked up, then jerked back from Noah, heat rising to my face. Tack was standing across the room, eyes burning.
A hand rose to smooth my hair. “Tack, hey! I . . . we . . .”
Tack spun and walked out. I closed my eyes, then covered them with a hand.
I felt Noah beside me. “Is there something I should know?”
My eyelids snapped open. “What?”
Noah’s shoulders thrummed with tension. “You guys were living together for months. If there’s something you want to tell me—”
White-hot rage exploded inside me. I’d been lost in a moment, but these two idiots had shattered it completely. God, what was I thinking? “Why would I have anything to tell you about, Noah? I was alone with Tack all that time because you betrayed me.”
Noah winced, a hand rising as if to ward off a blow. “No! I mean, I know. I didn’t—”
He was interrupted by a loud tone. Our eyes met, then we rushed into the great room. Sarah’s face was filling the TV once again.
“Greetings, neighbors!” she said cheerily.
Feet pounded as people rushed in from all over the house. In moments, everyone not on guard duty was present, watching nervously as Sarah twirled her hair.
“Sooo . . . my last adjustment didn’t go as well as planned.” Sarah had an elbow on the desk and her head in one palm, piercing blue eyes zeroed on the webcam. “I thought it would clear the field much more than it did.” Her expression became mock-stern. “Some of you have gotten tricksy. Well played.”
I looked at Noah, who was worrying his chin as he stared at the screen. My eyes slid to Tack, who was watching me. His gaze darted away.
Derrick was standing behind the couch, muscles taut as he leaned forward and gripped its back. “Listen to her. She’s laughing. Sarah’s lost her damn mind.”
“Psychopath.” Casey was sitting in front of him and gnawing her blond ponytail, one leg bouncing up and down on the carpet. She glanced at her best friend beside her. “I can’t believe we used to eat lunch with that bitch.” Lauren just glared at the screen with her arms crossed.
“Here’s the deal,” Sarah continued, oblivious. “I’m bored. I hate it in here. The food is all disgusting baggies of vegetable paste, or dehydrated crap made for living on Mars. But the good news is that variables keep unlocking in the MegaCom OS. This thing is like an Advent calendar. We’re so close to ending the phase, you guys. I just know it.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Leighton shouted. He was immediately shushed.
Sarah rose and stepped out of sight, spinning her laptop to face a large whiteboard. Two columns were drawn in black marker. “I took the liberty of tallying up all the eliminations, and this is where we stand.”
I stopped breathing.
Sarah had recorded everyone, in and out.
Kyle ran to our list and began scribbling furiously. I watched, unable to blink, as Sarah calmly went over names.
“Last night’s deadline eliminated five people,” she said, her lips puckering as if she’d eaten something bitter. “You guys are either a lot more bloodthirsty than I remember, or way more generous than I anticipated. Regardless, that leaves thirty-five of you precious snowflakes out there, plus me.” Her shoulders rolled in a lazy shrug. “Whatever final number the Program wants, it’s less than that. So we’re going to have to work a little harder.”
“She really is a monster,” I whispered, rubbing a hand over my mouth. “Those names mean nothing to her.” Then Maggie gasped, half rising as she pointed at the screen.
“Oh my God. Look! Corbin’s name is on the eliminated list!”
The air left the room. Heads dropped. Tack cursed and punched the wall, leaving a hole in the plaster. Corbin had run away last night, distraught at Liesel’s elimination, headed only he knew where. Somehow he’d gotten himself scrubbed. It was a gut punch.
Sarah kept right on talking. “Now here’s the crazy part. Right this moment, nearly every player left in the Program is in one of two places. Except for me, of course.” She made a pouty face, then used air quotes. “There must be ‘serious meetings’ going on at Emerald Tower and—you’re not going to believe this—Noah Livingston’s house! I can’t see inside either one, though. Not allowed. And that bugs me, if I’m being honest. I want to know what you guys are talking about. It might even be me.”
I’d never wanted to strangle someone more in my life. This truly was a game to Sarah. Twenty-eight classmates had been deleted to nothingness, yet she was annoyed it wasn’t happening fast enough. It made me sick.
“Damn,” Leighton grumbled. “She just gave away our position.”
Darren glanced up from his spot on the carpet next to Benny. Gave Leighton a flat look. “Dude, we lit a freaking signal fire two nights ago. Decent chance they already knew.” Then he looked at me, his thick black brows forming a V. “If this silo is so important, why is she there alone?”
I’d been wondering that as well. Had Sarah cleared the place somehow? Kicked everyone else out? Then the answer hit me like a slap across the face. “They’re planning something! Ethan and Toby.”
Tack walked over to Kyle’s updated list. “There are twentyone of us here. That means only fourteen are left in town. We have way more people!”
“Ethan can’t afford to be spread out anymore,” Noah said, chewing his knuckles as he watched Sarah onscreen. She’d sat again and was typing while absently fiddling with her hair. Sarah was playing God with our lives, but had the demeanor of someone checking email in an Internet café.
Sam spoke then, sitting with his back to the far wall beside his cousin. “Consolidating their position makes sense. The reset zones are gone, and Sarah can manipulate the environment until we’re forced to abandon this hilltop. If I were Ethan, I’d stay put in the tower and wait us out.”
“He won’t, though.” Derrick straightened to his full height, a frown drooping the corners of his mouth. “They might have fewer people, but all those dudes have taken eliminations. Most have two. Ethan has fighters, and they get bored quickly.” He began counting on his fingers. “Ethan. Toby. Mike and Chris. Lars. Finn. Tucker. Spence and Ferris. They’re not gonna sit around counting canned goods, not without Sarah to keep them in line. You haven’t seen them lately. Toby’s a rabid dog, and the others aren’t much better. I can’t believe the girls over there keep sticking around.”
Before I could respond, Sarah’s body stiffened, her posture radiating eagerness. “Oh, interesting.” Ice-blue eyes sparkled as she read something we couldn’t see. Then she looked directly at the camera and winked. “I’m going to try something new. See everyone later!” Her image blipped from the screen.
“I do not like her,” Cenisa muttered, drawing some gallows chuckles.
I turned to Derrick, who was now pacing behind the couch. “Where are the girls in this?” I glanced at Kyle’s list of active players. “I get that Jessica, Zoë, and Colleen stayed—they’re Sarah’s best friends—but what about Susan Daughtridge and Alice Cho?”
Left unsaid were names in the eliminated column. Girls I hadn’t seen since the beginning. Never involved in fighting, they must’ve been wiped out by the status change. The life-sharing we’d accomplished clearly hadn’t taken place in town—Sarah’s deadline had taken as many people from Ethan’s camp as mine.
Derrick shuddered, eyes troubled. “Jun Son Li and Kristen Fornelli were workers. Never touched a gun, never took a bullet. They must’ve been sitting at zero. If those two are out . . . they got pushed over the edge.”
My stomach lurched as bitter recriminations flew around the room. One reset might not seem like much, after all we’d been through, but if Ethan and Toby had taken lives from those girls right before the deadline, it was murder. There was no way around it.
“Susan and Lars are together,” Leighton said, eyeing the list, “so it doesn’t surprise me she stuck. She and Colleen even worked on a reset team. Same with Zoë. But Alice Cho? I can’t remember seeing her in all the weeks I was living downtown. And Jessica is useless.”
Noah walked over to the hearth, squeezing my arm as he slipped past me. He turned to address the group, jaw set, eyes hard as diamonds. “They have twelve fighters, and they’re good, but we have more. There are fourteen guys in this room.”
“Since when did sex matter?” Casey shouted, with Lauren scowling at her side. “I learned to shoot when I was ten years old. If you want to go head-to-head for the deed to this place, say the word. I’ve sent Toby packing twice. Don’t count up penises and assume you know the score.”
“She’s right.” Hamza barked a laugh, wiping sweaty palms on his pants. He sat at the far end of the couch, his tiny frame almost comical beside his giant friend Floyd Hornberry. “For the record, I don’t have a clue what to do with a gun. I’m great with laundry, though.”
Everyone chuckled, releasing some of the tension. Sarah’s whiteboard, while ghastly, had shown us we were the larger group. Any way you sliced it, that was a relief.
“We still need a plan,” Benny said quietly. It was the first thing I’d heard from him since he’d shot Darren to stay in the game. “Sarah won’t let up until all of us are gone.”
Heads turned to me, and I felt my blood pressure rise.
Me. The leader. Right.
I paused to marshal my thoughts. Sarah had given us the lay of the land, but had anything really changed? “Let’s inventory what we have,” I said. “Food. Fuel. Vehicles. Weapons and ammo. Then tonight we’ll reconvene and make a decision.”
“Decision about what?” Tack hadn’t left his corner since Sarah appeared, staying as far from Noah and me as possible. There was going to be trouble with him, I could feel it. But I didn’t know what to do. Mainly because I didn’t know what I wanted.
If Noah sensed my concern about Tack, he ignored it. “We need to decide whether to stay put or try talking.” He swallowed. “Or if we should attack.”
“Talk?” Sam nearly spat on the carpet, then glanced at Noah in apology, his eyebrows merging on his forehead. “Seriously?”
I spread my hands, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Everything will be on the table. That’s all I’m saying.”
Sam glowered, but nodded stiffly. Grudges ran deep. I personally doubted negotiation could work, but we had to at least consider the possibility. Maybe the swing in numbers would soften Ethan’s stance. Or maybe we could drive a wedge between him and Sarah.
Noah clapped his hands together, gathering eyes. I watched him, wondering what kind of man he truly was. Whether my feelings were betraying me. Whether I cared if they did. I didn’t look at Tack.
“You heard the boss,” Noah said. “Let’s get to work.”