Kathy Reichs - Code

“What?” I rushed to the sarcophagus and added my light to Ben’s.

The coffin was open. The corpse was gone.

I leaned inside the sarcophagus and shined my beam down its length. The only thing present was a withered set of bones.

The original tenant .

I pounded the lid in frustration. “The Gamemaster covered his tracks. He’s toying with us!”

Ben moved to the other side of the coffin. “Hi, help me push this back into place.”

“Why bother?” Hi whined. “Skeletor won’t care.”

“This is still a grave. Show some respect.”

Hi huffed, but joined Ben. Together they muscled the stone slab back into place.

“That wasn’t worth it,” Hi wheezed.

“Yeah, it was.” Ben was barely breathing hard. “Your good deed for today.”

Hi arched a brow. “Does it cancel out tomb raiding in the first place?”

Without bothering to answer, Ben picked up his flashlight and headed for the staircase. Hi hurried after.

I made no move to follow.

“Tory?” Hi had one foot on the steps, anxious to be gone. “What’s wrong?”

At first I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. But then my fury bubbled out.

“We’re always one step behind. Running straight in whatever direction the Gamemaster points. He’s owning us right now. Scripting our every freaking move!”

Abruptly Ben was beside me, his hand finding mine. “Later, Tor. Right now we need to get out of this poor sap’s final resting place.”

He’s right. Maintain focus .

Forcing myself calm, I bottled my rage for a later date.

Then Shelton’s voice echoed from above. “Someone’s coming down the path!”

“What should we do?” Hi hissed. “We can’t hide down here.”

“It’s a monk!” Shelton squeaked. “He just crossed the bridge!”

“Plan?” Ben was watching me intently.

My mind raced, came up empty. This trip was a full-fledged debacle. I sighed. “We take our medicine. Pray for leniency.”

“Guys, come on up.” Shelton called in a tight voice. “It’s Brother Patterson. He’s at the gate, and he’s … he’s not happy. At all.”

That was a massive understatement.

Turns out, a monk can be livid. I saw it firsthand after stepping into the sunlight.

“Of all the disrespectful, reprehensible acts!” Patterson herded us out of the cemetery at a near trot. “I don’t know what kind of juvenile pranks you had planned, but you are never to set foot on these grounds again! The entire order will be given your names and descriptions.”

We took the haranguing in silence. What was there to say?

“To think I’d gone to the library to help you!” A vein bulged on Patterson’s forehead. “The brother there had no idea what I was talking about. Of course not, since you never entered the building! I almost didn’t check up here, since I’d specifically told you the cemetery was off-limits.”

I couldn’t meet his eye. “We’re very sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, young lady. You violated holy ground. It’s to God you owe penance. Count yourself lucky I’m not taking the time to track down your parents.”

The walk to the welcome center was endless.

Once there, the boys scurried to Kit’s 4Runner like rats. Patterson stood in the parking lot, intent on actually watching us drive away.

Before climbing into the passenger seat, I made one last effort. “I’m deeply sorry, Brother Patterson. I don’t expect you to believe me, but we truly meant no disrespect. Thank you for showing us your wonderful abbey.”

Patterson’s eyes softened ever so slightly. “I’ve no idea why you would do a thing like this, young lady. Disturbing a grave! You seem like a nice girl, so I hope the shame of this day stays with you, and helps you make better choices in the future.”

Having gutted me with guilt, Patterson turned and walked back to the building.

“Options?” Ben asked as he pulled out onto the highway.

“I think some charitable work might be in order,” Hi said. “I’m not a Jesus man, but I’m pretty sure getting ripped a new one by a monk is bad karma in any religion.”

Ben snorted. “I meant about The Game.”

“What do you think, Tor?” Shelton was methodically wiping his glasses. “Lately it seems like everything we try blows up in our faces.”

“We’ve reached a dead end.” Admitting failure burned, but facts were facts. “We can’t trace the snare gun without access to LIRI’s security files, and we can’t ID the Gamemaster’s victim without a new picture. And since the body just vanished, we can’t even report a crime.”

“So our hunt for the Gamemaster is over?” Hi asked.

It’ll never be over. Not for me. I know Aunt Tempe wouldn’t quit .

“Temporarily,” I said. “Right now, we have to focus on winning The Game. We have to nail down the final location, and stop whatever horror this psychopath has planned.”

“Two days.” Hi was staring out the window. “That’s not much time.”

No. It’s not .

CHAPTER 39

THE NEXT DAY, Bolton’s halls buzzed with talk of Hurricane Katelyn.

“The projections have all jogged to the northeast.” Hi was reading weather.com on his iPhone. “Winds are down to Cat Three, with possible landfalls now including most of North Carolina.”

“So long as it’s North Cack.” Shelton shut his locker. “Don’t forget where we live, bro. A good storm surge could put Morris Island completely underwater.”

“The good news is—” Hi placed a faux-comforting hand on my shoulder, “—the hurricane won’t strike until the weekend, at the earliest. The deb ball is safe.”

“Wonderful.” I rolled my eyes. “I’d hate to have my execution stayed.”

I was twirling my combination lock when Ben appeared.

“Anything new?” He stepped close to avoid being overheard. “About The Game, I mean. The deadline’s tomorrow night.”

“The castle connection is all I’ve got,” I said. “But it feels right. It can’t be coincidence that zero hour falls at the exact time of the ball.”

“Why not?” Shelton argued. “If we’ve just randomly fallen into some wackjob’s trap, the timing might have nothing to do with our social calendar.”

“Even if we weren’t targeted originally,” I countered, “the Gamemaster certainly knows about us now. The photos, remember? It’s not a stretch to think he learned our schedules.”

“The very first cache sent us to Pinckney,” Hi pointed out. “So the Gamemaster picked that destination before we started playing. That means one of three things.” He raised a finger for each possibility. “We were selected from the beginning. The bomb location changed to The Citadel after he started following us. Or Tory’s castle theory simply doesn’t fly.”

I paused to assess Hi’s reasoning. “Or the debutante ball was always the final objective, and our attendance is a fluke.”

“So now coincidence is back in play?” Ben derided. “Make up your mind.”

Ben’s jaw was tense. It seemed like the pressure was getting to him.

He wasn’t the only one. Every minute that slipped by amped my anxiety level. What if we weren’t up to the Gamemaster’s challenge? If we failed, it could cost the lives of people walking this very hallway. The stakes were staggering.

Shelton spoke softly. “There’s nothing solid pointing to The Citadel.”

He was right. But every fiber of my being was screaming that my hunch was correct. Which meant, logically, that we were chosen to play The Game.