Kathy Reichs - Code

“The noise!” Shelton squealed.

“It’s a distraction,” Hi said. “And we’re down to three minutes.”

“No, listen! The volume is going up as the clock runs down. Maybe the sounds aren’t random.”

“Listen for a pattern.” But all I heard was an atonal mess.

“Dots and dashes!” Shelton cried. “The audio is the message!”

“Can you crack it?” Hi asked. “Because that’d be really useful right now.”

Shelton’s eyes closed. His lips moved silently as he listened. “It’s Morse code. First one my dad taught me. I got this.”

“I can help,” Ben said eagerly. “I know some, too.”

Shelton froze, head cocked to one side. Sweat beaded his temples.

I watched the timer.

Ten seconds passed. Twenty. Thirty.

Come on, Devers. You own stuff like this .

“Two words,” Shelton said finally. “Repeating every few seconds. The first letter is definitely H .”

Ben nodded. “I have H and then I , but can’t get the next one.”

Shelton scratched his cheek nervously. “This might take a bit.”

“Two and a half minutes,” Hi mumbled.

“There’s no signal down here.” Jason was waving his cell. “I can’t get online.”

“Quiet!” Shelton ordered.

Everyone shut up. For long moments the only sounds were the shrill static pumping from the device, the humming of the HVACs, and the metallic hammering reverberating down the passage.

“Third is an M .” Shelton jammed his glasses back into place. “Then another I , but after that I’m stuck. I haven’t done this in years. I don’t remember what a single dot means!”

H. I. M. I.

I rifled my vocabulary. Couldn’t find a single fit.

“I have a dictionary app!” Hi typed frantically on his iPhone. “Nothing starts with himi —”

Another synapse. My head nearly exploded.

“The puzzle box! What was its Japanese name?”

Shelton began dancing on the balls of his feet. “Um … um …”

“Himcho-Taco?” Hi guessed. “Hiro-Bono?”

“ Himitsu-Bako .” Shelton beamed. “That’s it!”

“Hurry!” Ben said. “Type it in!”

My fingertips smacked the Plexiglas shield. “I still can’t reach the keyboard!”

“Two minutes,” Hi reported hoarsely. “There has to be a way to open the glass.”

My fingers curled into fists.

Think!

More gray cells linked hands in my brain.

“That’s not the magic word!” I squawked. “ Himitsu-Bako is two words, anyway. But it must be a clue to opening the shield.”

“ Move .” Shelton leaned over the box, flexed his fingers, then pressed down on the edges of the plastic barrier. “We got into the puzzle box by pushing each side, then easing the top section—”

The Plexiglas slid back.

Everyone shouted in triumph.

“But what’s the answer?” Ben said. “What’s the magic word?”

“We’ve got one shot.” Hi jerked free his bow tie and loosened his collar. “Anyone have a guess?”

All eyes shifted to me.

“Can I see my notes?” I tried to keep my voice from shaking.

Hi passed them to me. “Ninety seconds, Tor.”

I shut out the world. Reviewed every task the Gamemaster had given us. Tried to create order from chaos.

Where had the Gamemaster sent us? What were the keys?

Castle Pinckney—we’d opened a puzzle box and cracked a coded message.

The Ocean Course—we’d solved a chemical equation and deciphered the picture.

Mepkin Abbey—we’d identified a statue and the symbol on its shroud.

“Only one minute left.” Hi was deathly pale. “Time to give something a shot.”

I ignored him. Kept sorting data.

Combine what you’ve learned to uncover The Danger .

What have we used?

The sunburst. Morse code. Himitsu-Bako . Bromomethane.

Symbol. Code. Puzzle. Equation.

What did that leave?

“Thirty seconds.”

“Tory, we have to try something!” Ben stepped up to the panel. “Now!”

Combine what you’ve learned to uncover The Danger .

We never used the equation .

“Bromomethane.” I was sure. “It’s the missing piece.”

No one moved. Enter the wrong thing, and we doomed the people upstairs.

The situation felt like a bad joke: five teenagers, dressed in formal wear, locked in a basement, trying to defuse a poison gas machine.

Yet it was very real. Lives depended on getting this right.

And we were finally, totally, and completely out of time.

“Fifteen seconds.” Hi swallowed audibly.

“I’ll do it.” Ben reached for the screen. “Tell me how to spell it.”

Hi called out the letters. Shelton covered his face, unable to watch. Jason closed his eyes and mumbled a prayer.

As I watched Ben’s fingers, my universe narrowed to the blinking cursor skipping across the screen.

Something was wrong.

What?

13 … 12 … 11 …

What?

10 … 9 … 8 …

We never used the equation .

“Here goes nothing.” Ben crossed himself. Reached for the keyboard.

A voice screamed inside my head.

The equation!

“STOP!”

Ben’s finger froze.

I shoved him aside.

6 … 5 … 4 …

Hammering backspace, I wiped out Ben’s entry and tapped a new sequence as fast as my fingers could fly. Pressed enter.

3 … 2 …

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The deafening static ceased.

The timer flickered, went blank.

Accepted

.

Everyone gasped with relief.

“What did you type?” Shelton demanded.

“CH3BR. The formula led us to Kiawah, not the chemical name.”

Within the box, metal scraped metal. I heard a series of clicks.

The HVACs shut down.

The screen filled with bouncing red balloons. The horns returned. Fiery letters spelled out a single word.

“We did it!” Shelton pumped his fists, then gave Hi a flying chest-bump.

Jason and Ben high-fived like crazy. Then they froze, realizing exactly what they were doing. A beat passed, then the two boys nodded and shook hands. Hi and Shelton stared in disbelief.

I closed my eyes, too relieved to celebrate.

“What’s happening?” Chance’s voice carried from the passage. “These freaking clamps won’t come loose.”

I was about to explain when a new message lit the screen.

My elation gave way to dread. “Guys.”

The others followed my sight line. All celebrations died.

Well done, Players!

Through quick wits and skillful performance you have won The Game and successfully averted The Danger. However, you broke The Rules, and therefore must pay The Penalty. Make your choice

.

Sincerely,

The Gamemaster

More clicks. Whirs. Inside the box, a canister rotated.

The HVACs blasted back to life.

“We didn’t break any rules!” Shelton shrieked. “We followed everything exactly!”

“Oh holy hell.” Hi was staring at Jason.

Oh no .

Jason. Chance.

We’d told others about The Game.

We’d sought outside help, which was strictly forbidden.

We had broken The Rules.

And the Gamemaster intended to exact punishment.

I heard a rattle by my feet. Looked down. A small hole had opened at the base of the front panel.

Adrenaline shot through me. Every hair on my body stood on end.