Kathy Reichs - Code

“Always trapped!” Shelton actually stamped a foot. “Always underground! If we get out of here, I’m moving to a high-rise on a mountain-top. Penthouse! And ya’ll ain’t invited!”

Keep calm .

Stepping back into the ventilation room, I saw Jason kneel, pinch his fingers, and lift a broken wire. “Oops. My bad.”

The balloon was now resting on the floor tiles. I watched it nervously. Was there more to this trap?

“I bet he’s watching us right now ,” Shelton whispered. His gaze rose to the tangle of pipes bolted to the ceiling. “A dozen cameras could be hidden up there.”

Something about the whole setup bothered me.

If the debutante ball was the target, why put a bomb down here? This building was a fortress, literally, and these rooms were deep underground. The party was two full floors above us.

The Gamemaster was ruthless. I suspected he’d want the highest body count possible. Burying explosives in the basement didn’t fit the bill.

“Why’d the Gamemaster want us down here?” I asked. “In this room?”

“To kill us!” Shelton was close to panic. “We can’t get out!”

My mind raced, trying to fit the pieces. “But we almost didn’t find this location. What if we hadn’t?”

Hi started chewing his thumb. “Keep going.”

“According to The Rules, if we fail, innocents will die.” My eyes scanned the room. “An explosion down here might kill the five of us, sure, but only if we’d guessed correctly, and were in the right place.”

Shelton threw up both hands. “Does it matter now?”

“Could an explosion centered here level the building?” Jason asked.

“Not likely,” Ben said. “The Citadel was built to last. It’d take an enormous blast to collapse this whole structure.”

“I’m with Tory.” Hi began pacing. “The Gamemaster plans to hurt a lot of people if we don’t succeed. The deb ball is the obvious target.”

“But he also wanted us trapped in this room.” I pinched my forehead, trying to force my thoughts into logical order. “It all has to connect somehow.”

No one had an answer.

Jason kicked the balloon in frustration.

Pop!

A lime green mist oozed from the torn red plastic. Jason grabbed his throat and began coughing madly. Cheeks flushing scarlet, he stumbled backward, trying to cover his face.

Noxious vapors spread through the room. My eyes watered and burned.

Tumblers fell in my head.

A key turned. Terrible insight followed.

Combine what you’ve learned to uncover The Danger .

“Oh no.”

Hi grabbed Jason and yanked him toward the door. Shelton stripped off his jacket and fanned the vapors. Shielding his nose and mouth, Ben raced forward, scooped the balloon, and tossed it into a corner.

Frantic seconds later, the air seemed to clear.

The sound of Jason’s hacking filled the room. “That … was … cough, cough … pretty dumb, huh?” he rasped.

“Just take it easy.” Hi thumped his back. “And yes, you’re a dumbass.”

I remained rooted, a sick feeling roiling my gut.

Combine what you’ve learned .

Heart pounding, I raced to the Gamemaster’s box, certain I’d identified The Danger. And found what I’d feared most: clear plastic tubing, connecting the rear of the device to the pipes overhead.

As if on cue, the massive HVACs grumbled to life.

My head whipped to Hi. “Time?”

“Oh crap!” Hi swallowed. “It’s nine o’clock!”

“Can we turn these units off?” I asked.

Ben shook his head. “The corral is triple-padlocked. We’ll never get inside.”

Almost out of time .

My eyes shot to the top panel of the box. Through the second niche I could see the inner workings of the sinister device.

Another jolt. I knew why the window was there.

The Gamemaster wants me to see. Now that it’s too late. Now that he’s won .

I saw two silver objects inside the machine. Guessed their evil function.

A cry of alarm escaped me.

Jason grabbed my arm. “Tory, what is it?”

“This isn’t a bomb.” My voice trembled. “At least, not the kind that explodes.”

I pointed to twin silver canisters visible through the glass.

The labels were easy to see.

Jason squinted, then read aloud. “ Bromo … bromometh .”

“Bromomethane.” My voice was numb. “A toxic pesticide. The balloon must’ve contained a weak dose. A sample for us to enjoy.”

Hiram’s eyes widened. “We’re standing in the freaking ventilation room.”

Ben winced. Shelton covered his face and moaned.

“So it’s flammable?” Jason didn’t understand. “Explosive?”

“It’s a poisonous gas.” I had to shout over the rumbling AC units.

Jason shook his head in confusion.

“The pipes, Jason!” I pointed at the ceiling. “This device is hooked into the air-conditioning system.”

“The HVACs will pump the gas into the ballroom.” Ben shook the chain-link barrier in frustration. “The debs are still being introduced. Everyone up there is a sitting duck!”

“Poison gas?” Jason took a few steps backward. “That’s crazy!”

Hi grabbed Jason by his lapels. “Exactly! We’re dealing with a lunatic. Got it?”

I thought of the people above us. Kit. Whitney. My classmates. A large swath of Charleston’s wealthiest one percent. All crammed into that ballroom.

With so many bodies in such close quarters, the temperature would’ve risen.

The tightly packed crowd, decked out in stifling formal wear, would welcome the influx of cool air.

Until it started killing them.

“We have to shut this thing down!” Jason shoved Hi aside and started banging the metal box with both hands. “There must be a way to kill the power.”

I caught one of his sleeves. “Let me look.”

The others crowded behind me while I studied the mechanism.

“The outer shell consists of five metal plates bolted at the seams.” Thinking analytically calmed me down. “Each side is riveted to the floor. I see no way to access the canisters inside.”

Shelton smacked a side panel. “Building this took mad effort. The Gamemaster must’ve spent hours holed up in this dungeon.”

“Agreed,” I said. “The exterior must’ve been assembled on-site.”

“We rip it open.” Ben gestured with his hands. “Get inside before the canisters discharge. Simple.”

“How?” Hi ran his fingers along one edge. “This box is fastened tight. We’d need power tools to get under its skirt.”

“There must be a way.” But I couldn’t see it. My panic meter was rising again.

“The Plexiglas.” Shelton smacked his hand on the little window. “Bash it open.”

“No good.” My gut warned against tampering with the box’s construction. “The plastic won’t break easily, and the opening’s too small anyway.”

Shelton reached for his earlobe. “We have to do something!”

I waved a hand in annoyance. “Let me think.”

There must be a way to gain entry. A way to win The Game .

Beneath its plastic cover, the touchscreen suddenly flared to life. Cartoon clowns danced and rolled as a familiar script flashed on-screen, red words burning against a black background.

Ready to play?

“This is it.” Trying to still my shaking hands. “We have no choice.”

Hi nodded. Shelton groaned. Jason had locked up, eyes wide, unable to speak.

“There’s no other way?” Ben glared at the screen in anger.

I shook my head. “We play or they die.”

A look of despair twisted Ben’s features, then vanished so swiftly I questioned having seen it. “Do it,” was all he said.