Page 3 of The Most Dangerous Games

You’re not being asked to be a hero. You’re being asked to be a person other people will follow when fear is louder than reason.

If you say yes, you’ll receive your next instructions.

If you say no, nobody will ever know you were chosen.

Either way: You were picked for a reason.

I’m looking forward to meeting you soon.

Start to prep yourself mentally and physically for the most dangerous games.

Trust that in the end, it will be worth it.

Trust me.

Sincerely,

Jimmy Donaldson, aka MrBeast

Game #1

Patrick Arrasmith

1.

Alek

Antarctica

Can one person really save the world?

Aleksandra Andrich—Alek—nearly six feet, twenty-two, battle-tested. She’s a survivor of the many wars that have chewed up her corner of the Carpathian Belt. Her family has been running from sirens for so long she can’t even tell you in what country the running started.

They’d warned her she might die. They’d also promised one person could fix the world. But that’s not what races through her mind. What races through her mind is that question about why she’s here, why they’re all here. Whoever The One is, will they really be able to change things for the better? Or is the trick getting other people to move with you?

For now, Alek just needs to survive this first day in Antarctica. They’ve dressed them all the same: thermal gear, goggles, face wraps. And the same little add-on nobody talks about—a plastic wristband clipped snug over her glove, warm against her pulse. A tracker. Heartbeat, location, motion. If it flatlines, they’re already moving. Her wristband warms against her pulse. She checks under the band: PROPERTY OF H. GAMES, INC.

She and the others are crammed into one of five Zodiac boats. They’re in the middle of the freezing water of McMurdo Sound, on their way to Ross Island. Her hands are already shaking from the cold, despite the thick gloves and her thermal parka.

They’re expecting final instructions for today’s test upon arrival at the island. The Host—the voice they first heard back in Ohio—had communicated as much before they’d been transferred to the Zodiac boats:

“Today we begin to find out which of you is worth selecting—because today the games start for real. Good luck to one and all. And trust me: You’ll need more than luck on Ross Island. You are being evaluated in ways you won’t perceive. We watch the map. It changes by the hour.”

In Ohio, she had caught one last clipped line that a lot of the players ignored: “We don’t save what’s on it. We manage it.” But it didn’t make any sense to her so she let it go.

The words have the same calm menace as an emergency broadcast. She’s heard that tone before. It’s been drilled into all of them that the games they are about to play are the most dangerous any man or woman has ever experienced. The rules have been explained to them. Alek has already memorized these rules—her life depends on it.

It’s been indicated that everything on this journey is a test of their skill set. Tests to see which one of them has the leadership skills to save the world. She wonders if that is true, or if it’s even possible.

They were told the rules would be clear. That they’d be enforced consistently. That this would all be fair.

That was the first lie.

More than that, Alek is worried if she makes one mistake, her wristband will stop buzzing and someone will zip her into a bag. Maybe in the next hour.

The Zodiac she’s in hits another wave and goes airborne again.

Alek traps another scream in her throat.