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Option three, the same as Dylan.
My guts churned uncomfortably as I looked for him in the crowd but he was gone, swallowed up by the sea of unfamiliar faces.
Fuck.
He’d already played a couple years ago, so what the hell was he doing here?
Trying to fulfill his legacy by becoming the reigning kill score champion? In his first attempt, he’d missed the mark by only a couple hundred points.
That was the scary thing about Dylan. He was lethal, and he enjoyed knowing it.
At the end of the pier was a series of wickets, the words PLAYERS and VIEWERS lit above them in massive, red-painted letters framed by bare lightbulbs. It reminded me of ticket boxes at the fair—if the lines at the fair were fucked up queues to sign up for your inevitable gruesome murder, that was.
I cringed internally as Della and I stepped into the player line.
If I had to guess, my newfound friend was the second type of player. Looking to win big and make a name for herself. Truth or Dare hadsomerisk, of course. But it was nothing in comparison to the bloodbaths during Hide and Seek and the maze.
I didn’t bother to ask.
It wasn’t smart to get attached. Not when we were both likely be dead by sunrise.
She shot me a thumbs up as she received her tracking bracelet—a sleek circular screen that looked like a smartwatch—and headed into tents beyond for hair and makeup.
“Identification?” a mustached man in a crisp white uniform asked, his belly protruding over the waistband of his slacks.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my license, handing it to him.
“Event.” It wasn’t a question.
I cleared my throat, my palms slicking with sweat. “Hide and Seek.”
“Hiding or seeking?”
“Hiding,” I said, my hand wrapping around my wrist to touch my bracelet.
I’d been on the cheer squad and was counting on my flexibility to help me find a good place to wait this nightmare out until morning.
Or my agility if that plan went to shit.
More than knowing how to tumble, I also knew I couldhide. I’d been doing it ever since the accident. Hiding from lawyers, the police, “friends” of Dad, you name it.
What was a couple more hours in the grand scheme of things?
At the very least, I could make it until morning.
I hoped.
He smiled nastily, his beady eyes widening as he pulled up my file and turned the keyboard toward me. “Oooh, always nice to see a littleLegacy. What name will you be entering under?”
I typed the first thing that came to mind, the thing that no one who knew me would ever dream I’d use. The name my mom had used the year she won the games:wh1t3_r4bb1t.
Well,almostno one would expect it.
I knew that Hiram would see it on the roster and it’d make his miserable fucking blood boil.
Good.
“How nostalgic,” the attendant praised, shoving a mass of plastic through the hole in the glass toward me. “Here is your body bag and a marker. In the next room, collect your uniform and put all personal items inside the bag. Write your name, address, and phone number on the bag. Or don’t, if you don’t care about your family getting whatever is left of you.”
