“We dodged a bullet,” Kenny told the Vindicators, as they reunited in the Tech Lab that night. “Candace wanted to publish right away. Tweet out the pictures.”
“You stopped her?” Peter asked.
“I did.” Kenny was beaming. “I told them, that’s crazy. As soon as it’s out, we lose control. The police come in. Real newspapers, TV. All we’d get is a lousy photo credit. I said, let’s crack this wide-open—investigate on the down-low, write the story, then launch. And we get all the credit. I knew Eddie couldn’t resist that!”
“So you bought us a day?” Vanhi asked, skeptical.
“I bought us more than that. We can go in there now, wash away the evidence, then there’s nothing left. Just a picture. Nothing linking us to the crime.”
“So let’s go,” Charlie said. He was feeling guilty from the ATM, the broken wrist. Still smarting from Mary’s rejection of the bracelet. The Game had led him wrong. He just wanted to erase the bloody pentagram—erase everything.
“Well, that’s a problem,” Peter said.
Everyone turned to him.
“While you guys were twiddling around in the Game, I went back to the boiler room. It’s locked now. No more magic keypad.”
“You couldn’t hack your way in?” Vanhi said almost tauntingly.
“Apparently it was not God’s will.” Peter shrugged.
“Couldn’t we just pay off Walker like Eddie did?”
“Then they’d know it was us.”
“So we’re screwed.”
“No, that’s where I come in.” Kenny looked proud again. Deep down, he loved the way the Game seemed to be escalating him from sidekick to hero. “After Eddie and Candace left, I was freaking out. But then I realized, I had some Goldz saved up. I asked for help and got us a new mission. Something called the Hydra.”
Kenny showed them his phone.
A new text from the Game promised:
I will wash away all your sins.