Kathy Reichs: Code

My scream was swallowed by the storm.

Then a gray blur fired past me.

“Cooper, no!”

Ignoring me, the wolfdog charged in pursuit.

Shelton and Hi ran to my side.

“What should we do?” Hi was hunching to hold his ground in the swirling wind.

Shelton grabbed my arm. Shouted. “What did the Gamemaster mean about Ben?”

“I don’t know! We have to catch them!”

A trash can barreled down the street. Shingles flew from nearby roofs.

It was lunacy to be outside, but what choice did we have?

“Let’s go!” Rounding the corner, I spotted Ben a block ahead, running full tilt. Coop was loping a few yards behind. Even flaring, I couldn’t see the F-150.

Hurricane Katelyn was wholly unleashed.

Trees thrashed and writhed. Garbage and palm fronds swirled in the street and plastered walls and buildings. A fence post rolled down the sidewalk, followed by a plastic mailbox, a boot, and a clump of sodden magazines.

Horizontal rain filled my mouth and needled my skin.

Even flaring it was hard to see, to breathe.

We need every scrap of power. All we can access .

I motioned for Hi and Shelton to draw close.

Eyes shut, I focused on my flare. On the flaming cords linking our minds, the root of our psychic connection. Reaching deep, I drew from the hidden well of power I’d tapped to escape the grate.

Warmth permeated my limbs. The wind seemed slightly less murderous.

Instinctively, I spread the heat to my pack. Hi. Shelton. Coop. Even Ben.

Hi’s back straightened. Shelton stopped shivering.

“Stick close,” I yelled. “Harness your power.”

“Don’t burn out!” Hi shouted. “Without flares, we won’t make it ten feet.”

Together, we staggered to Spring Street, but Ben and Coop were nowhere to be seen. I watched dumbstruck as a gas station canopy ripped free and somersaulted into a Hardee’s drive-through.

“There!” Hi pointed toward the hospital. Flaring, he had best eyes. “I saw Ben!”

“Why didn’t the Gamemaster turn?” I yelled. “This road leads to the highway!”

“He can’t use the bridges!” Shelton shielded his glowing eyes from the downpour. “The police have them blocked. The Gamemaster can’t drive off the peninsula!”

He’s trapped. And we have the scent .

So we forged ahead, retracing our steps from an hour before.

It seemed a lifetime ago. A different age, when I could still trust Ben.

It can’t be true .

Then why would Ben panic? Why destroy the computer and run away?

For an instant, I’d caught his eye. Seen agony behind his golden irises.

Ben has a secret .

I have to learn what it is .

Three arduous blocks brought us back to Charleston Memorial Hospital. A doctor emerged from the lobby door and waved wildly for us to shelter inside. We pounded past.

Hi’s finger stabbed left, inland, away from the harbor. “They ran down Calhoun!”

Another block and I spotted them.

The F-150 was stopped in the middle of the street. Ben and Coop were fifty yards behind it and closing.

“Downed trees are blocking the road,” Hi panted. “The Gamemaster must’ve bailed.”

In the distance I glimpsed a brown-robed figure lugging a drenched duffel bag on one shoulder. The Gamemaster turned and stared in our direction. I could almost taste his wrath at being pursued.

We’re coming .

Ahead, Ben shot past the truck, vaulted a fallen palm tree, and fired up the street. Coop paused at the truck’s open driver’s side door, sniffed the interior, then spun and zipped after Ben.

Shelton, Hi, and I were approaching the F-150.

The Gamemaster watched, one hand tapping his leg in a regular rhythm.

What’s he doing?

“The truck’s got a CB antenna!” Shelton yelled. “I’ll radio for help!”

Shelton and Hi beelined for the vehicle. I didn’t. Bypassing the truck and downed palm, I continued the chase.

Ahead, Coop skidded to a stop. Turned. Howled back at me.

Intent on the Gamemaster, I nearly missed his message.

Fragmented images formed in my brain.

Black truck. Open door. Plastic brick on the seat. Blinking red light.

Danger. Bad smell. Bad thing.

I whirled.

Hi and Shelton were level with the truck’s rear bumper.

Eyes closing, I screamed.

CHAPTER 56

THE FLAMING CORDS sizzled in my subconscious.

They crackled with intensity, larger and more vibrant than ever before.

I fired a message to Hi and Shelton.

Get away from the truck!

On instinct I forwarded Coop’s mental picture, overlaid with my own fear.

The force of my sending staggered them. They didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. Both turned and dove for the bushes bordering the road.

The truck exploded in a titanic fireball, lifting five feet into the air. Shards of metal and plastic blasted in every direction. The concussion knocked me to the pavement. Ignoring the pain, I streaked to where I’d last seen my friends.

Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay …

Coop raced past me and bounded into the singed and burning shrubs.

This time water conquered fire. As the hammering rain extinguished the flames, a choking cloud of smoke billowed across the street.

“Hi? Shelton?” I slogged into a knee-deep stream racing alongside the street. “Where are you?”

“Get this mutt off me!” A voice yelled from somewhere just ahead.

The smoke shifted to reveal Hi, on his back, sunk to his chin in a gathering creek. Coop had two paws on his chest and was licking his face.

A groan sounded to my right. I turned to see Shelton drag himself from the water.

“An exploding truck almost drowned me,” he wheezed. “What are the odds?”

Despite their dousing, both boys still had fire in their eyes.

“Are either of you hurt?” I shouted.

Head shakes.

“Then get up! We have to catch Ben!”

I struggled back to the road, heard Shelton and Hi close behind. Coop shot ahead once more, but this time I called him back.

Heel. Wait .

Coop’s ears perked. He checked his sprint and circled to my side.

“We do this together,” I ordered aloud.

I paused to let my soggy companions catch their breath. Shelton coughed. Hi blew a mammoth snot-rocket from his nose. Finally, they both gave a thumbs-up. We raced up the block, alert for any sign of Ben or the Gamemaster.

Minutes passed. Not a trace.

“The wind is dropping,” Shelton said, gasping for air. “I think the storm has blown out.”

“Katelyn’s not done.” Hi pointed to a giant hole in the clouds. “The eye is passing over us. The backside of this baby is still to come.”

As we approached the shopping district, the wind died altogether. An eerie quiet blanketed the city. After the last hour’s mayhem, the stillness was unnerving.

We watched Katelyn’s eye slide over our heads.

“The hurricane’s moving super fast,” Hi said. “This break won’t last.”

We crossed King and were passing The Gap when a hand shot from the doorway. Terrified, I lashed out, punching and kicking with all my strength.

“Take it easy!” Ben’s yellow eyes shone from the gloomy recess.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Shh. He’s just ahead.” Ben slipped from the alcove and crept to the corner of the building, forcing us to follow at his heels.

“He’s waiting for us.” Ben peeked around at the open expanse of Marion Square. “I saw him cut across the plaza.”

“Then let’s get him.” Angry. At Ben. At the Gamemaster. At myself for not confronting Ben then and there. “He could escape while we stand here talking.”