Page 29 of The Most Dangerous Games

Steven Noble

22.

For a second, Jimmy doesn’t move.

The words didn’t land in his brain in the right order.

Number one hundred. Him.

What did he just hear?

I’m one of the players?

He immediately answers his own question:

Since now.

He honestly has no idea who The Host is—couldn’t hazard a logical guess—but now the guy is making him No. 100?

Calling him out this way in front of everyone?

Jimmy had been chatting with some of them a few minutes earlier. Reassuring them that no matter what, he’ll have their backs.

But who has his back at the moment?

He feels the field staring at him—ninety-nine sets of eyes on him.

What’s he going to do?

What am I going to do?

Jimmy looks out into the crowd and finds faces he recognizes from minutes ago. Alek and Hannah. Jack and the kid, Rupert. Wyatt. Reg Drummond. People who already look like they’re doing math in their heads:

How safe are we, really?

Jimmy’s throat goes dry.

All the people in front of him—all ninety-nine of them—have already had their first tests in those red tents.

Now, Jimmy thinks, here’s my test, out in the open for everybody to see and hear.

Pass or fail.

He believed in this concept with all his heart. Doesn’t just feel it’s important. It’s more than that. But does he believe enough to be a player?

It lands, fast and clean:

They didn’t make him number one hundred as a favor.

They made him leverage.

A test. A warning. A leash.

Who exactly did he choose to believe in?

Another thought crosses his mind: If I can’t trust the organizers or the games, then can I do more to protect everyone looking up at me—looking up to me—if I’m one of them?

If they didn’t trust me, they wouldn’t be here.