Page 10 of War Games

“Huh?”

“Reaper.”

“Reaper?” Mila questions, confusion thick in her tone. “You mean The Texan Reaper?”

“No,” I start. “Well . . . Yes. He’s here, but he won’t be a problem. I mean the real Reaper. The OG Reaper. The one I assumed was a figment of my imagination.”

“No,” she says, and I can practically picture the way she’s shaking her head with furrowed brows. “No. That’s not right. He’s not actually real. I’ve looked into this guy a million times. He literally doesn’t exist. They’re just stories made up by the media. A scapegoat the cops fabricated to pin their unsolved high-profile cases on.”

“I know all that, but everyone is wrong. I looked him dead in the eyes, and he’s . . . terrifying. I could practically hear the second every last person in that warehouse went into heart failure. He’s as real as they get, but what I can’t work out is why he’s here. Why now? I’m sure he’s probably been invited to attend War Games a million times, so why is this year different? Is he just looking for a way to pass the time or does he get off on the hunt like the rest of them? Could it be for the prize money?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Mila whispers, the heartbreak clear in her tone, realizing exactly what I did the moment I saw Reaper. My chances of winning this thing just dwindled all the way down to zero. “There’s no way to back out?”

“No,” I tell her. “But I wouldn’t anyway. I don’t back down. Ever. I just have to be better. I have to find a way to win because dying here in Montana is not an option.”

“Okay, so I’ll do a little digging and see what I can pull up. There’s gotta be something we can use to get an edge on him. If we can at least figure out his preferred weapons or style, then you can figure out a plan to get the upper hand.”

I can’t keep the scoff from sailing out of my mouth. “With all the false stories and kills that have been pinned on him, it’d be impossible to tell what’s real and what’s not. It’ll be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“I know,” she breathes. “But just like you don’t like backing down, neither do I. If anyone can find this bastard, it’s me. Besides, I can’t have you spending all your time on this when you need to focus on the other eighteen contenders.”

“Thirteen,” I tell her. “Five went down outside the warehouse.”

“No shit,” she laughs. “You guys don’t fuck around.”

“They were the weak ones with egos,” I say, flying down the road toward the Blue Springs holiday resort that I’ve decided to stay at. Not that they’re aware of that, of course. “They were weeded out, and now we’re left with the real competition.”

“Okay. Anyone you want me to specifically look into?”

“Yeah, actually,” I say, my brows furrowing as I think over the faces I memorized tonight. “There’s two in particular who seemed too alike. Their facial structures were almost identical. It’s like they’re cousins or something. Maybe brothers. I’m not sure, but I think it’s worth looking into because if they’re working as a team, then I’ll have to adjust my approach.”

“Names?”

“The Texan Reaper and The Boneyard Slayer.”

“The Boneyard Slayer?” she laughs. “What kind of ridiculous name is that? Is he some kind of caveman who kills people with the bones of his other victims?”

“Who knows, but if someone is going to find information on this guy, it’s you. Though, with a name like that, something tells me digging up information won’t be too hard.”

“Sounds about right,” she murmurs, her voice going quiet as though she’s momentarily distracted, probably writing the names down. “Anyone else?”

“Ummm,” I pause for a moment, going over the names. “There’s this chick, Gasoline. She looked a little rough, and if her name is anything to go by, my guess is she’s an arsonist. I doubt she’ll be much of a problem. She seemed to know this other woman, Silver. So I’m hoping they’ll take each other out so I won’t have to worry about them.”

“That hardly seems fun,” she says, just as I pull into the holiday resort and come to a stop outside the main gate. I type the code Mila created for me into the keypad and watch with an odd satisfaction as the gate begins to open. Mila never misses.

“Tell me about it,” I say, slowly easing onto the gas again. “There was one thing I found really odd, and honestly, I really don’t know how to feel about it.”

“What’s that?”

“One of the contenders. She said her name is Shadow, and I know looks can be really deceiving these days, but I could have sworn she was only a child.”

“The fuck? What do you mean? Like sixteen, seventeen years old?”

“No. Like twelve or thirteen.”

“No. There’s no way,” Mila says, her tone shifting with unease as I drive through the resort, searching for my private villa. “I know the guy who organizes this shit is a complete bastard withabsolutely no morals, but surely he’s not putting children into this.”

“That’s what I would have thought until I was standing opposite this kid, and I don’t know. There was something about the way she was watching the contenders around her. She wasn’t scared or even trying to work out who her biggest competition was. She was just . . . curious. It was like she had already worked each of us out before we’d even stated our aliases, even Reaper.”

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