Erin Love is up to no good. I’ve been watching her for the past forty-five minutes—in between running from a couple of Chasers and managing to tag out one Runner—and she’s definitely up to something. First I saw her meeting up with Jesse from the museum, and then, ten minutes ago, she disappeared into an underground station with that reporter, Emma Sano.
My theory is that Erin Love is the mastermind behind this whole Rose’s ghost trickery—a rival influencer is an obvious suspect—and Emma and Jesse are her accomplices. I haven’t fleshed out the literal details, but I will. My thoughts drift to how pleased Anton will be when I prove Erin Love’s deception and save the game.
His fingers lace with mine. “I wish we didn’t have to go through all this nonsense,” he says. “If I could announce you as the winner right now, I would.”
“Tsk-tsk, you can’t be seen to have favorites,” I tease. “I’m going to win this game fair and square.”
“That’s my girl.” His smile falls. “But not everyone is playing by the rules.”
“No, they’re not.” I watch Erin Love as she pauses to adjust her hair in a store-window reflection. “I wish you’d get rid of her.”
Anton doesn’t reply. When I glance across at him, he’s vanished.
I walk on for a while, using the map to keep an eye on where Erin Love goes. I can’t figure out what she’s up to. Her route is seemingly random, and she hasn’t tagged anyone in ages. I follow her across the cobbled square outside Covent Garden Market. I give her a minute before I go in after her, but all I find are unlit shops and emptiness.
I’m so busy wondering where she’s gone that it takes me a moment to process the fact that the shadows are shifting. I watch in horror as dark shapes ooze from walls. Cracks in concrete widen as creatures with glowing eyes squeeze into our world. A puddle ripples, and a figure rises with its arms outstretched. It’s Shadow City, but real.
I mean, obviously it’s not actually real. But it feels real.
“Accomplices!” Anton cries as the video call screen opens. I’m surprised to see that he’s slightly disheveled. His hair is hidden under a turquoise baseball hat, and his eyes are bloodshot.
I check my watch. I can’t believe an hour has gone by so quickly.
“I’m on to you,” Anton says, leaning so close to the camera that I can only make out his left eye and part of his nose. “I’m going to take you down.”
Then he throws himself into his chair and picks up a mug before taking a long swig of what I hope is tea.
“Meh. Let’s get on with the next challenge already,” he grumbles. “You have probably noticed that you’re no longer alone. For the next hour, it’s not each other you need to worry about; it’s the ghosts. There’ll be no Chasers and Runners, just victims.”
He wants us to play Shadow City.
“You can exorcise them with your bracelets. Make it to the geofenced area by the river—it’s marked on your map—and you’ll be safe.” His voice is dejected, his heart no longer in it. I wish I could give him a hug. He manages a smile. “But be warned: those ghosts will keep on multiplying until they’re everywhere, and if one of them touches you…”
Three hearts appear in the top right of my field of vision. He doesn’t need to explain. Three lives and I’m out.
“Let’s see how many of you can—” His signal abruptly cuts out, and he vanishes. As do the ghosts.
“Anton?” I say. “Anton, are you there?”
My vision flickers, and I think he’s coming back, but it’s not him.
Rose appears, the big spinning wheel next to her. Her image crackles, jumping from place to place. Then she settles, bright against the seeping dusk.
“What’s up, losers?” she says, laughing at us all. “Hands up, who thinks it was Anton who killed me?”
“No. Never! You’re such a B-word,” I cry, getting some weird looks from a couple of people passing through the deserted market.
My heart’s going like a sparrow’s. I can’t believe she’s back. Anton was so sure he’d regained control of the game.
“If it wasn’t Anton who murdered me, then maybe it was someone very close to him.” Rose spins the wheel, and it noisily turns before eventually stopping on another of the silhouettes. She rips the paper away. “Everyone, I give you my second suspect: Matthew Bright.”
She clicks her fingers, and a candid photo of Matthew appears. He’s rushing down the front steps of a boutique hotel like he can’t get away fast enough. His silly face is panicked and wide-eyed. It’s obvious he’s done something really, really stupid.
I remember this picture. Some random person happened to take some photos, and they ended up online. Emma Sano interviewed the photographer and wrote a whole article about how Matthew was having an affair. She tried to sell it to the tabloids, even though I doubt anyone really cares who Matthew sleeps with. Except maybe Beatrix.
Emma’s whole story was based around how he wasn’t wearing any pants in the pictures. Everyone got to see his embarrassing boxer shorts: fuchsia with little yellow rubber ducks on them. My mom bought them for him as a joke Christmas present, and that somehow made the whole thing feel even more sordid.
“Who was he at the hotel with?” Rose says. “Was it an affair, or something else?”
I snort. Of course it was an affair. Why else would he have taken his pants off? A rogue spider?
“In the run-up to my death, Matthew and I were seen arguing on numerous occasions. Let’s imagine I knew the truth about what went down at that hotel,” Rose says. “What if I threatened to tell Beatrix? Did Matthew kill me to save his relationship and protect his nice little position in Anton’s inner circle?”
I think about it. The cheating, I can imagine, but murder? It’s not that I don’t believe Matthew has it in him to kill. I’m just not sure he’s clever enough to get away with it.
“Everyone knows Matthew’s pre-Beatrix reputation for sleeping around, but she changed him. Right?” Rose’s expression turns monstrous. “Except people don’t change, and when they show you who they are, believe them.”
She has a point. I didn’t buy into Matthew’s personality makeover when he got together with Beatrix. They’re so different. I could never understand why he’d be with her, unless it was a ruse to get close to Anton.
“Anyway, I have to go,” Rose says, smiling again. “Enjoy my game, won’t you?”
She vanishes, leaving behind the mental equivalent of a really bad smell. At first, I’m unsure what to do. I wait, hoping that Anton will return and tell me everything’s fine. But the only icon on my smart glasses that works is the map, plus none of Anton’s Shadow City ghosts have rematerialized. I suspect he’s still locked out of the system.
It’s up to me. First off, following Erin Love isn’t working. I need to find a way to come at her from another angle. I think about how Emma said she was interested in finding out what happened to Rose. Then she met up with Erin Love. Now a photo Emma tried to sell gets a starring role in Rose’s suspect reveal. Emma’s involved. I need to find out what else she knows.
So I follow her spot on the map. Since her chat with Erin, she’s gone west. This part of the city is disorientating. It can go from beautiful old buildings to intimidating office blocks within the space of a few yards. Emma appears to be inside a building site surrounded by a tall blue fence. The weirdest part? Erin Love and Gray26 are here too, according to the map. I think this is a good thing. Three birds, one stone. Or something like that.
I follow the perimeter until I find a gap big enough to poke my head through. The building site is like Doctor Who’s TARDIS. It’s much bigger on the inside. There are piles of dirt and sand compacted by the treads of heavy vehicles. Metal girders and huge sheets of wire mesh lie stacked up everywhere, and plastic orange fences mark the edges of the deep foundation pits.
I hesitate, unsure if I really want to go inside a deserted building site, and without a hard hat, no less. I bite my lip. Then I remember that Anton could be watching my live feed right now, and I don’t think he’d be very impressed at what a coward I’m being.
I imagine that Anton’s narrating my progress, making jokes and clever observations. Everything becomes slightly less terrifying. “Obviously you have to investigate,” Anton’s fantasy narration says. “The footage will be epic.”
I nod. My heart hammers as I squeeze through the gap in the fence. The rough wood catches at my hoodie, but I make it through. My teeth chatter. I pick my way past big blocks of concrete and scaffolding poles, turning my head to give my camera a good view of everything. Check me out, being a professional even in the face of danger.
I check the map again. It’s hard to pinpoint where either Erin Love or Gray26 are since their location spots are fairly large. Emma’s is more precise because she’s low down on the leaderboard. I creep closer to her. Then I step out from behind a partially erected wall and meet Erin Love, posing against a digger like she’s trying to sell it.
I gulp. “Erin,” I say, feigning surprise. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I know, it’s such a coincidence,” Erin says. “How are you, bestie?”
“Not great,” I say. “You cheating me out of those points at the museum wasn’t very nice.”
Erin laughs quietly. “You’re still upset? I’d have thought your brother being accused of murder would put things in perspective.”
“Stepbrother.” I sniff. “And Rose wasn’t murdered. Her death was an accident.”
“You sound very sure. Were you there?”
I feel my blood rush to my cheeks. “I was at the party, yes. You were too, if I remember correctly.”
Erin’s perfect lips quirk into a faint smile like she’s amused by the memory. Then she strolls off, already bored with our conversation.
I run after her. Got to keep my friends close and my enemies closer. “Wait, what are you doing here? Are you following Emma too?”
“The journalist? No.” She points as Gray26 trips out from behind a pile of dirt. “I was following him, although he was following Emma.”
Gray26’s face freezes as he spots us. “I was, um, looking for somewhere to pee?” The effort of coming up with that lie was way obvious. “Who are you?”
“I’m a friend of Anton’s, and I’m investigating this ghost business for him,” I say. “My name’s Charlotte.”
“Grayson,” he says, giving me an awkward little wave.
“Charlotte’s also Matthew Bright’s sister,” Erin says, examining her fingernails. “For full disclosure’s sake.”
I take a deep breath. “Stepsister. Erin Love is just here for the fame.”
Erin grins. “Actually, it’s the money I want.” She walks off again, pleased with herself. “Let’s talk to Emma, then. Seeing as you’re both so interested in her.”
“No, I’m not…” Gray26 trails off when he no doubt realizes that neither Erin Love nor I are falling for his lies. He follows me. I follow Erin.
Emma’s spot is ahead, jumping about in the darkness of what will eventually be a block of apartments. At the moment, it’s all metal supports and concrete slabs and a whole lot of shadowy places where anyone could be hiding.
Exchanging looks, we tiptoe closer and closer and…
“There’s nothing here,” I say, turning on the spot.
“That’s not entirely true.” Erin unhooks something from an exposed bolt. It’s a tracking bracelet, which, based on my location map, belongs to Emma.
A pair of smart glasses lies crushed on the ground, blood splattered on the broken lenses.