I am going to destroy him.
Gray26, pretending to be harmless and vulnerable, with his pretty-boy looks and skinny black jeans—when, all along, the scheming bastard had some girl waiting in the wings to help him cheat. The cheating is understandable. It’s the fact that someone who looks like an emo hair model got one up on me that really pisses me off.
And the fact that I didn’t see it coming.
The thought makes me squeeze my cardboard cup too hard, and a fountain of lukewarm black coffee erupts from the top. “God damn it!” I yell, hurling the cup at the wall and shaking liquid from my hand.
My map updates, and I spot another contestant sneaking toward me. I’m a Runner, so strictly speaking, I should be running. But I’m too angry to put up with anyone trying to chase me. Instead, I march in their direction with my hands in tight little rage balls.
The girl halts when she sees me coming. “Oh my god, it’s you. I can’t believe this.”
“Take a photo. It will last longer.”
Her eyes widen like I’ve slapped her.
“Come on, then,” I say. “I fucking dare you.”
She opens her mouth like a fish. I roar at her—a guttural noise of pent-up frustration and fury—and she scampers. Coward. I lean against the wall and try to get my breathing under control. Amber will be furious that I’m not making more effort to be likable. But it’s actually liberating to not give a shit.
My phone rings. I worry that it’s Amber, but it’s Jesse. At last. I was beginning to think he was ignoring me. Usually, he’s the one texting me all the time. I sit on the edge of the sidewalk and answer. “I was wondering when you’d call.”
“Yeah, I know, I know. Some of us have to work for a living,” he teases. “And it’s not like you need my help or anything.”
He’s right. I’m winning the competition by an easy margin. Of the thirty contestants tagged out so far, I’ve gotten six of them. Like I said, I’m done being a princess with lowered eyes and a pretty smile. I want to be the scary monster with teeth for once.
“Anton will start choosing favorites soon,” he continues. “You’re obviously up there, with Sean23 and Char02.”
I recognize one of those handles. Sean23’s been almost matching me for points the whole time. They’re my only real competition. I scan the leaderboard and find Char02 in ninth, with two tags. “Why is the last one a problem?”
“I overheard Anton FaceTiming Matthew about her. She’s Matthew’s little sister, so he wants her out of the contest. Obviously Anton is going to keep her.”
“To piss M off?” I have to be careful what I say in case someone’s listening in on my feed and realizes one of Anton’s crew is helping me.
“Anton doesn’t like being told what to do. And he thinks it’s funny that she’s entered.”
“Poor boy.” I laugh, thinking about how much Matthew must be quaking in that muscle tee of his.
Jesse goes quiet. He hates Matthew almost as much as he hates Anton.
“Are you there?” I say.
“I can’t stand this. You running around all tarted up while Anton and Matthew play you like a pawn.”
It upsets me when Jesse gets jealous. Don’t get me wrong—it’s flattering that he cares so much about me. But he acts as if I’m some naive kid who can’t handle boys like Anton and Matthew. I’m no pawn. If they’re the king and his knight, then I’m the opposing queen.
“They only think they’re in charge,” I say. “We’re going to show them.”
“Yeah. I can’t wait to be out of this hellhole. You and me, babe. Just us.” He moves the phone to his other hand with a rustle. “All right, so the first challenge. That’s why I called. You need to be heading for the Natural History Museum.”
I eye my map. It’s a bit of a trek. Gray26 is heading there too. This could be my chance to take him down.
“I’m here now, setting up. If we bump into each other, you’d better pretend you don’t find me irresistible, or I’ll lose my job.”
“I’ll try to hold myself back.”
“Hold yourself back from Matthew too. If he even looks at you the wrong way, I swear—”
“I can deal with him,” I interrupt.
“Yeah. I know.” He must step outside as his voice is partially obscured by traffic noise. “Win this thing, Erin. We need this.”
“Love you,” I say, but he’s already gone. Usually, talking to Jesse makes me feel warm on the inside, but this conversation has left me uneasy—slightly grubby—and I don’t know why. There’s no time to dwell on it. I jump to my feet and break into a jog. I have thirty minutes to get to the challenge and two miles to run. I can do it in twenty-five, though, even in these shoes.
It’s exhilarating pounding the pavement with the cool breeze against my face. Amber doesn’t like it when I go out running—it’s too sweaty and unattractive according to her. But it’s one of the few times that I feel free and the only way I can meet up with Jesse. I plan my runs to coincide with the time he gets off work at a local guitar shop.
When I first met Jesse, he was a member of Anton’s security team and a general drudge. Jesse hated taking orders from Anton and Matthew. He put up with the bullying and impossible demands because he’s a grafter who rarely turns down a paycheck, plus he wanted to get into the music industry and Anton had contacts. Then Rose died and the operation shut down.
Nearly a year later, Matthew called Jesse to offer him his old job back. Jesse came to me right away and told me his plan—to trick Anton out of the prize money and then disappear. We let Amber think entering me was her idea. In reality, Jesse had everything mapped out long before she even heard of the game.
Before I know it, I’ve reached the tree-lined street on which the museum is located. The museum has just closed for the evening, and there are dozens of families with small kids milling about outside. I stop for a few moments to catch my breath and stretch my calves. When I walk on, my bracelet turns white and I lose my map, so I must have entered a geofenced area. That means there will be no Runners and Chasers for this challenge.
The red metal gates leading into the museum grounds stand slightly ajar. I walk up the path toward the building. It’s huge, with intricate stone carvings and an impressive arched entranceway that reminds me of a cathedral. I pause. Materializing from the shadows, then disintegrating again are smoky specters with glowing red eyes. Shadow City ghosts. I was wondering when Anton’s baby would rear its ugly head. The speaker in my smart glasses crackles close to my ear. “Erin, you made it just in time,” Matthew says. “Your mission is to rescue Anton from the ghosts. He is somewhere inside the museum.”
I raise an eyebrow. “He’s in the museum? I thought he was in his home office.”
“Shush,” Matthew says. “Use your imagination.”
I eye the deserted entrance. “You have permission for us to be here?”
Matthew chuckles. “Of course not. There are thirteen ghosts inside, each worth a different number of points if you can exorcise them. Once they’ve been found, Anton’s location will be revealed. The first person to reach him will win the final points. At the end of the challenge, the person with the highest score wins a special prize. Anyone with zero is out of the game.”
I hesitate outside the doors. “Wait. Out of the whole game?”
“Yup. Still want to play?”
“I’m not playing.” I take one of the foam swords propped up outside. It’s black and white checked, like a QR code, and when I lift it, my smart glasses turn it into a glowing axe. I spin it on my palm and step inside.
“Last one in.” This time, Matthew’s voice is real rather than coming through my speakers. I spot him standing inside the doors, slouching up against the wall with his quiff sagging over one eye. He’s changed into a tight white T-shirt, paired with the biker pants. He’s filming me with his action cam.
I angle my body to look my best on camera. “I like to make an entrance. Get myself noticed.”
He smiles joylessly and puts the camera away, immediately dropping the friendly act. “You should watch out for the security guards. Maybe try not being noticed for once. You get caught and no one’s going to rescue you.”
“I can rescue myself,” I say.
“I don’t doubt that.” He strolls outside and gently closes the door.
The atrium is vast and empty like a cave. It smells of the ghosts of café food and screaming children. Without visitors, it feels wrong. Somewhere I’m not supposed to be. The dusky space is lit up with glowing blue lights. They illuminate a huge skeleton suspended from the ceiling. A blue whale, I believe. Its jawbone is the size of a car.
At ground level, there are fewer lights, so everything is shadows and dark nooks. Arched tunnels lead out of the atrium into other wings of the museum or small side rooms housing more exhibits. Hurried footsteps make me duck behind a display case. A security guard comes jogging down the stairs and across the main hall.
“It’s a bunch of kids with foam swords,” he says into his radio. “No, I don’t know how they got in.”
He tries the front door and, finding it unlocked, swears under his breath. He throws the bolts.
“They were moving toward the Earth galleries. Head them off.”
The radio crackles with a reply that I can’t make out.
“They’ve put up cameras to record themselves? I’m going to kick their asses,” the man barks. “No, hold off on the police for now. We’ll be in deep shit for not securing the building.”
I wait until he’s gone, then slip out of my hiding place. I could let myself out. Escape into the night and live to play another challenge. But I’m not going to do that. Instead, I head to the left, in the opposite direction of the security guard. Thirteen ghosts, Matthew said. It’s time to go hunting.
I venture down a long corridor, my feet echoing on the stone floor. Growing up, my mother never brought me anywhere like this. We were always too busy with modeling shoots or interviews or filming. A museum crammed full of noise and smelly bodies—ugh, I would have hated it. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
Suddenly there’s a terrible scream. It sounds like a murder. As quickly as it started, it ends. I walk on, this time turning slowly on the spot so that nothing can creep up on me. I weave through a room of dinosaurs—some skeletons, some fiberglass models. There’s a suspended metal walkway overhead. I hear footsteps, but when I look up, they stop.
There’s so little light I can’t tell if there’s someone up there, watching me from above. But I do spot a small camera attached to the wall. I’m presuming this is part of what Jesse was talking about when he said he was setting up for the challenge. I blow the camera a kiss and continue on my way.
The shadows shift, and a shape peels itself from the wall. I’ve played Shadow City on my phone a few times, but it’s different through the smart glasses. The specter is human shaped but not. Its limbs are too long and its fingers trail almost to the ground as it moves. Where there should be features, there’s nothing but two glowing red embers in a gray stretched-skin face.
I ready myself with the sword, but right then, a security guard appears in the doorway. His flashlight flicks its long beam from wall to wall. I quickly jump back and slip behind a model of a raptor. If I stay dead still, he might miss me. The man slowly paces toward my hiding place, and so does the ghost. It reaches its arms out, and its face tears open to reveal a gaping mouth breathing out wisps of smoke.
“Uh-oh, you’re in trouble,” Matthew’s voice taunts in my ear.
The ghost drifts closer on legs made of smoke. If I move, the security guard will spot me, and I’ll not only be out of the competition, but I’ll probably be arrested. The guard approaches. If he comes much closer, then he’ll see me. The ghost opens its mouth into a wide black hole that takes up most of its face. Its lips are ragged, split skin.
Then there’s a shout from a neighboring gallery, and the security guard runs toward it. I quickly bring my axe up and slash it across the ghost’s torso in an X shape, then strike it in the heart. It explodes into smoke.
“So close,” Matthew says. Is it me, or does he sound disappointed? “Congratulations on making it on to the leaderboard with twenty-five points.”
I open the menu on my smart glasses, and a leaderboard drops in front of the real world. I’m in fourth place, behind Char02—Matthew’s sister. Gray26 is at the bottom, with zero points. I don’t know how I feel about him flaking out of the contest thanks to his own ineptitude. It’s not the revenge I was hoping for.
I exorcise two more ghosts, and soon, I’m top of the leaderboard. Sean23 is in second place. Gray26 is yet to score. With eleven of the thirteen ghosts found, it won’t be long until Anton’s location is revealed and someone scores big.
I walk through the deserted galleries. Every now and then, I hear a scream or running footsteps. I step into a long narrow room full of stuffed mammals. They’re creepy in the near dark, with their shriveled black lips and glass eyes. I’m so busy staring at them that I nearly miss a familiar figure lurking in the narrow gap between a display case and the wall.
Shiny hair, sparkly leather jacket, jeans too short for his skinny legs, air of confusion. He seems to be having a conversation with a stuffed polar bear’s butt.
“I’m trying,” he whispers. “But this game terrifies me.”
“Who are you talking to?” I say.
Gray26 jumps and thuds against the glass. His arms and legs do an impression of a panicked octopus as he falls out from behind the display case. “Whoa, where’d you come from? You scared the life out of me!”
“Keep your voice down,” I hiss. “You’ll get us arrested.”
“Why’d you think I’m hiding in here?” he says, grinning. He removes something from his ear and tucks it hurriedly into his pocket.
I’m suddenly hit by a surge of unexpected fury. Here I am, giving this game everything, and he’s hiding?
“I don’t know what you think’s so funny,” I snap. “You’ll be out for good if you don’t score some points.”
His face falls. “Maybe that would be for the best.” He sighs.
“Then quit,” I say. “Leave the competition for those of us with the balls for it.”
I walk away with a swish of my hair. My long fingernails dig into the palms of my hands. I don’t understand why I’m letting this dopey-ass boy get to me. He’s not particularly hot or interesting or a threat to me. Maybe that’s the problem. He’s nothing, and still he got one over on me.
“Thanks for the pep talk,” Gray26 shouts after me, laughter in his voice.
“Go blow a koala,” I snap without looking back.
Outside the gallery, I lean against the checkerboard bricks to catch my breath. Hold it together, I tell myself. I’m winning this thing. Gray26 doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need me to send him out of the competition. He’s doing that by himself.
Footsteps approach, and I figure Gray26’s decided to continue our conversation. I quickly duck into an unfinished exhibition titled Ghosts of the Past. It’s about technology that can save endangered and extinct species, or it will be once everything’s been unpacked. At the moment, there’s a maze of poster boards, crates that spill over with packing material, and a few animal specimens.
I hear something. I stand on tiptoe to look through a gap between empty display cases. The gallery is unlit and quiet, like a held breath. Suddenly, someone kicks my knee out and shoves me in the small of my back. I fall face-first into a crate, swallowed by reams of suffocating plastic.
A bang. No light. A series of heavy thuds thunder through the small box. A nail gun, I realize. I struggle to turn on to my back. I kick out, but the box’s lid doesn’t budge.
I’m trapped in this coffin-like crate, and there’s no way out.