It didn’t take long for the door to slam open behind us. A quad of four crazies yelled obscenities and followed on our heels, eager catch us. We sounded like a small stampede, the pounding of our shoes competing with repetitive blaring from the alarm.

  I lost my footing and nearly fell fast first the remainder of the way down. I was caught by none other than Morrigan. She didn’t let me go until I was all the way back on my feet. If we weren’t running for our freedom, potentially our lives, I would’ve taken a second to thank her.

  The end of the steps came into view, and I was caught off guard when I realized that the two men who called out to us were waiting at the bottom.

  “Come on!” the brown-haired guy stressed, waving his hands frantically.

  I had so many questions.

  Mainly, why was he helping us?

  Was he helping us?

  We were about to find out, I guess. No one stopped and objected to it. He and his companion ran ahead of our group, leading us down another hall filled with junk.

  I used that to our advantage.

  I dropped back and shoved an abandoned meal trolley at a patient that had broken away from their group and gained on us. The man or woman slammed right into it, doing a small flip headfirst onto the floor. Their blunder caused a slight chain reaction, a few more tripping over them.

  We took a sharp right and arrived at another metal door. As soon as it opened outside air poured in and seemed to wrap us in an embrace, dragging our physically exerted bodies into the night.

  The door slammed behind us, a lock clicking into place and the alarm ceasing. There were thuds from the other side as our pursuers attempted to follow.

  I didn’t have time to look around and see where we’d come out at much less think of what to do next. Huddled together like a flock of helpless lambs, we faced the slaughterhouse that was awaiting our arrival.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I never got to ask the man who helped us for his name. If not for Dion shoving me out of the way, I would’ve caught part of the arrow that was now protruding through this stranger’s face.

  The impact sent his body careening backward. His head bounced off the metal door, body sinking down as he confusedly grasped the piece of thin steel implanted just above his right brow. His expression was like all the others. Of everyone I’d seen die since this all started, their expressions always conveyed shock and confusion.

  They didn’t understand why they were dying, being brutally executed like animals.

  I caught a glimpse of the leviathan mask from the Inn and that was enough to get me moving. With not even a second to wipe the dead man’s blood from the side of my face, I was running again. Lungs burning like I’d downed a bottle of kerosene and no idea where I was going, I ran.

  Grace, Morrigan, and I went one way while Mel, Dion, and the brown-haired man went the other. It wasn’t planned, it’s just how things happened. If it were possible to close my eyes and still see in front of me that’s exactly what I would’ve done as I heard the tell-tale sound of a familiar ice-cream truck and motorbike.

  This fucking city was truly hell on earth, a nightmare that wouldn’t let up until we were all rotting away as corpse.

  “What is going on?” Grace breathed heavily, running beside me.

  I couldn’t answer her. If I tried to speak, I was positive my lungs would burst into flames. We emerged from behind the Sanitorium just as Mel and Dion vanished from view, running from the man who rode the motorbike and a few masked people on foot.

  We couldn’t follow them.

  That would be suicide.

  I wasn’t sure where to go, but if the motorbike was going for them that likely meant the twisted metal truck was coming for us. We continued running, moving away from the building. Once out on one of the main roads again, we came to an intersection.

  “Which…way?” I wheezed, placing my hands on my knees.

  God, I felt like a beached whale. Grace was faring much better than I was.

  I blamed that on her not having to run from place to place since waking up in the middle of the woods.

  And Morrigan?

  She didn’t look in too rough of shape either. But she was probably an athlete like her boyfriend. I was just a girl who enjoyed margaritas on Sundays while binging SVU marathons. To think I once thought that my life was boring. I would die happily doing that forever over this madness.

  As I expected, I could hear the ice-cream truck getting closer. I knew a few lurkers had to be closing in on us as well, the ones moving on foot.

  “We should go that way,” Morrigan suggested breathily.

  Using my hands, I made a sweeping motion to indicate she needed to start moving. She broke into a jog, making her away across the street to the sidewalk.

  For a moment I thought we’d been keeping pace with each other when it was really my speed dropping dramatically to her sluggish pace. There was no sign of Mel, Dion, or the man that had split off with them. How did I gain one sad excuse of a person and lose three good ones?

  Without warning, Morrigan dipped off to the right and entered an alley.

  “What the fucks she doing?” Grace rasped.

  I shook my head to say I didn’t know, taking the same path. I shouldn’t have. There was an unwritten rule somewhere that said entering alleyways in life-or-death situations typically resulted in the latter.

  I veered around a shiny dumpster, my arms barely pumping at this point. At the end of the alley Morrigan stood in front a piece of chain link fence blocking her path.

  “Why would you come down here?” I fumed.

  I turned and placed my back against the brick building beside us. There was a stitch in my side that had me ready to keel over.

  “We can’t stay here,” Grace stated, doing the same thing opposite of me.

  I used the bottom of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face, swallowing a few times as I struggled to catch my breath. That’s all I needed to do, take a few minutes to gather my bearings.

  The universe was not on my side.

  Tires squealed from out on the street. I didn’t need to look to see who or what it was. I could hear the ice-creams truck ominous tune crystal clear. The sinister melody made its way down the alley to where we were trapped.

  “How did they find us?” Morrigan asked, her voice trembling.

  “United. They’ll fall,” a male voice carried from above me.

  I pushed myself off the wall and whirled around. Eyes scaling the side of the building, they came to rest on someone wearing one of the colored LED masks. His was a glossy black with neon green for eyes and a mouth. He was perched at the top of building like some freak version of Spider-Man. I didn’t know I needed to be on the lookout for someone above and below.

  “Go fuck yourself!” Grace glowered.

  His laughter trailed behind him as he disappeared.

  “They’re coming,” Morrigan gasped, dropping down into a crouching position.

  I glanced at her, then looked towards the end of the alley. I could see the back bumper of the Sweet Tooth truck from where I was standing. How much more fucked could my day get?

  A lot apparently.

  Three guys appeared at the mouth of the alleyway, one being the leviathan guy from the Inn.

  He lingered back as the other two approached us. They’re masks were different from all the others we’d seen too. On the right wore one all white, the eyes two large black Xs, and the mouth a closed smile.

  The left’s mask was partially white too. One side of it was completely black, as if it were being consumed by darkness. Both had an inverted cross in their centers. Their outfits matched were nearly identical, all black getups with hoods concealing their heads. I glanced at Morrigan again, who was still crouched down. Dion was obviously carrying this relationship’s intelligence on his shoulders. Did she think they wouldn’t see her?

  “We can climb this,” Grace stated, moving towards the piece of fence.

  I studied the top and saw she was right. There wasn’t anything that would maim or shock us for once.

  “Go. I’ll follow you over.”

  “You--.”

  “Go!” I reiterated in a harsher tone.

  She flattened her lips and turned to face the fence. She curled her fingers into the mesh and started to haul herself up, using her boots to help boost her body higher. She made it over and dropped to the other side with the poise of a cat.

  I checked behind me to see how close the guys were. They could’ve had our asses by now, but at the pace they were moving I had at least a solid minute to get away.

  “Lana,” Grace stressed, her tone telling me to hurry.

  “What are you doing? Get up.” I snapped, grabbing hold of Morrigan’s arm.

  She shook me off and huddled closer to the brick building.

  “I can’t climb up. I’m not strong enough,” she fretted.

  “Then we’ll pull you over,” Grace replied.

  I was already at the fence and climbing before she’d even suggested that. I wasn’t risking being caught because of someone else’s weakness.

  “An alleyway is a terribly cliché way to end things, Puppet.”

  The familiarity of that husky voice almost made me stop mid-climb. Thankfully, my brain wouldn’t allow me to die because of good dick. The fence rattled loudly as I scaled the top and dropped down beside Grace, landing with none of the poise or beauty she’d demonstrated.

  She helped me up, keeping her eyes trained on Ciaran and the guy that had accompanied him down the alley. There was no hope for Morrigan. If she would’ve gotten her up, we could’ve helped her, or at least attempted to.

  She had the audacity to look at us as they closed in on her huddled down form, her brown eyes wide and round. What had she expected? She jumped up and made as if to runs towards us at the last possible second. The girl couldn’t take one step before she was being dragged backward.

  The guy in the half and half mask took hold of her dreads and swung her like a yo-yo, right into the waiting arms of his partner. She was hoisted over the man’s shoulder and carried off like a weightless parcel, her screams bouncing off the brick buildings on either of the alleyway. I couldn’t bring myself to feel sorry for her, but now one of us would be telling Dion his girlfriend had been taken away…again.

  All that remained was Ciaran.

  I couldn’t see his face, but I knew the person beneath this mask was the same man I’d felt tied to since we’d been locked away in Goetia.

  It said much more about me than him that I found him attractive even dressed as a homicidal villain.

  “Lana?” Grace looked between the two of us, tugging me away from the fence. “Is that who I think it is?” she asked in a hushed tone.

  I didn’t answer, too busy murdering the asshole with my mind. He didn’t look hurt so I must not have stabbed him good enough.

  Wordlessly, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a silver chain. The pendant on the end twisted from side to side as he held it up for me to see. I’d know that crescent-cross shaped charm anywhere. I had never seen anything like it before my abuelo gifted it to me.

  “That’s my necklace,” I accused, sub-consciously bringing a hand to where it usually hung around my neck.

  “You think this is a necklace?”

  What?

  What was that supposed to mean?

  He tilted his head to the side. The coal black eyes of the mask met mine and trepidation skirted down my spine. I suddenly remembered him telling me he knew what the symbol meant, and I didn’t.

  He hadn’t been wrong.

  I grit my teeth, refusing to show any emotion in front of him.

  “I’ll ruin you before they do.”

  With that confusingly ominous promise lingering between us, he tucked my necklace back in his pocket and turned away. At the end of the alley, Morrigan was passed off to someone else and carried towards the ice-cream truck, her struggling form leaving our line of sight.

  “What are you going to do with her?” Gracelyn called after Ciaran.

  He ignored her and rounded the corner, vanishing along with his masked friends.

  Seconds later the ice-cream truck pulled away.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I muted my earpiece and clasped my hands beneath my chin. Maverick and Charon had stayed with Mel and Dion up until they were herded in the direction they needed to go. That’s all we could do for now. If things went accordingly, Gracelyn and Puppet would be joining them soon.

  Staring out the tinted side window, I watched the city fly by as Brody drove us towards our next destination.

  I caught a flash of Group C running out of the Coffee House. The old man with them was barely keeping up.

  I found it kind of funny seeing as he was the reason they’d gone inside of there to begin with. Because of that decision, his granddaughter was dead. Kyrous had watched it happen on the feed linked to his cellphone while we were in route to Vesania.

  Had they realized there was nowhere to hide? Even the designated safe zones were designed to lure people into a false sense of security. The Game Master believed that it heightened fear. Nine times out of ten their theory proved to be true.

  I’d lost track of how many got caught up in the relief of a momentary reprieve. I didn’t understand the logic behind that. There’s a timer counting down the seconds and minutes before you must fight for your life.

  How the fuck can you believe you’re safe for a fraction of a second?

  Not only that, but you also must be semi-intelligent enough to solve every riddle you’re given. You could be the fastest runner in the world but if you couldn’t piece together how X equated to Y, you were guaranteed to die miserably.

  Running was never the point anyways. What we wanted was for people to turn around and fight back. Devil’ Playground was founded on three very simple ideologies.

  Play to kill, then play to win.

  Sacrifice when necessary.

  If the mood strikes, which it often did, fuck or get fucked before death.

  How many do you think turned on each other to save themselves? How many strangers wound up fucking while unknowingly on camera?

  That’s what the viewers wanted. It’s what made Puppet and her friends such fan favorites.

  They would kill anyone if it meant keeping each other safe. When it was time to solve a riddle, they didn’t break down or despair, they figured that shit out. They kept themselves on task and never went randomly exploring the city like so many others did.

  It was rare to get candidates like these three. Even with a little help they were doing extremely well. Puppet was the sole reason Dion’s survival rate had risen. Fuck, she helped boost Selene’s ratings too and those that knew her true identity were eager to watch her be taken out.

  I didn’t give a shit about any of that, though. I only needed Puppet to live. She clearly wasn’t going to remember me or what happened anytime soon, but I could handle that as we went along.

  My brothers and I had a goal to accomplish, regardless.

  We would live or die trying to see it through until the end and either way this shit went, the outcome of this game would change everything.

  “Think they know anything yet?” Kyrous asked, lifting off his leviathan mask.

  “No, and when they do it should be too late for us to be stopped.”

  “And her?” Brody asked from the driver’s seat.

  Realizing I was still holding onto Lana’s pendant inside my pocket, I made sure it was secure and then leaned back on the bench seat, studying the chick passed out on the truck’s floor.

  “Plans still the same,” I finally replied.

  “She’ll be famous for her part in this,” Kyrous stated.

  “Uh-huh,” I agreed for lack of anything else to say. I doubted Morrigan was going to like the role she was about to play.

  She would be well known for it, though, like he said. At least until the game was taken to the next level. Tapping my earpiece to get it active again, I gave Sainte the order to go after Puppet.

  Maybe this would help her remember something. If it didn’t, I still had a few more ideas. I knew they might not work either but that was okay. I wasn’t blind to the fact she still felt the connection we had.

  At the end of the day, whether I was breathing or rotting away, she was mine. The blood we spilled formed that promise and the pendant in my pocket sealed the deal. This city would be rubble beneath our feet before I let anything change that.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  If there was anything at all that I could take away from this experience, it was the understanding that mental strength outweighed the physical. It was realizing that I needed to embrace who I was instead of being ashamed of it.

  If I were of a weaker mind, I would’ve succumbed long ago. I would have been crushed beneath layers of deception and sordid secrets. If I didn’t have an immoral streak woven into my soul, I could have never done the things I had.

  Irony at its finest, right?

  The part of me I tried to suppress was the one thing ensuring I remained alive. And that was a bitter, twisted truth to try and come to terms with.

  I killed to keep breathing—to keep my friends safe. I would keep killing if that’s what was necessary to continue doing so and making sure we didn’t die in this hellish prison of insanity. The combination of these two things had to be what was keeping my body moving because all my limbs felt like they were about to fall off. I was also ninety percent sure we were being followed.

  Grace was the one who first pointed that out. Now every few minutes I was evaluating our surroundings and checking for any sign of masked figures. Mel and Dion too since we had no way of knowing where the two of them were. I wouldn’t let myself believe they’d been caught or killed.

  “I don’t like this silence. Keep talking to me,” Gracelyn demanded, her quiet voice cutting through the silence.

  “You want me to tell you a story?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  She smiled and shook her head. “I want you to tell me what’s going on between you and Ciaran.”

 

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