Page 76 of War Games

Siren doesn’t respond, but the determination in her eyes is more than enough confirmation that she’s with me, so with The Boneyard Slayer closer to our left, we move toward him.

Creeping through the maze of mirrors, we move in a way that backs The Boneyard Slayer into a corner, only he’s too fucking stupid to realize it. I watch as the bastard starts to believe heactually has the upper hand. The mirrors clearly fuck with his head, and when he gets a lock on Siren, he begins to stalk her. I shake my head, watching his performance. He’s not even discreet, and as Siren leads him further into a corner, I keep my eye on his brother.

The Boneyard Slayer watches every move she makes, and as he creeps closer toward her, I do the same. Then, just as he thinks he’s got the drop on her, he takes his blade and lunges toward her with everything he’s got, only he slams face first into a solid mirror, the glass splintering under the force.

I laugh, and as he whips around, his eyes wide with fear, I lunge just as he had, my blade slicing through his lower abdomen as I gut him like a fucking fish. He gapes at me as if not understanding what the fuck just happened, and as if on cue, his organs slide out of him, his intestines like a rope of bloodied sausages falling to the ground with a wet plop.

The Boneyard Slayer lets out one single breath, and with that, he falls to his knees, crushing his organs under the weight of his meaty body.

“Goodnight, motherfucker,” I mutter just as Siren steps out, looking at the mess covering the ground, her brow arched in approval.

She goes to say something when a loud roar tears through the maze. “YOU’RE BOTH FUCKING DEAD,” The Texan Reaper bellows, rage in his eyes, clearly having watched the show through the mirrors. Only there’s something off in his stare. He’s not pissed that we took his brother out, he’s pissed that we took out his one last advantage to the top. After all, if he were going to win, he would have had to slaughter his brother at some point.

The Texan Reaper takes off at a run, a blade clutched tightly in his hand as he uses the wall of mirrors as a guide, but he’s too disoriented to make a single correct turn, and as he attempts to get to us, we make it easy, heading right for him.

“HEY!” A piercing scream is heard at the opening of the mirror maze. My stomach sinks, and both Siren and I come to a screeching halt, my gaze whipping toward the entrance to see Shadow staring directly at The Texan Reaper. “You want them, asshole. You’re going to have to get through me first.”

“Fuck,” Siren breathes beside me. “What the hell is she doing?”

The Texan Reaper pauses, weighing up his options, and seeing a clear path out of the mirror maze that gives him a direct line to Shadow, he takes it, sprinting after her.

“NO!” Siren screams as we both break into a sprint, racing to get out of here. We stumble past each other, both of us too overwhelmed by fear that we allow the maze to fuck with our heads, taking longer than it should to get out of this fucking hellhole.

Siren is a step behind me, and as I find the path out, I grab her hand and pull her with me as we break out into the cool night air. We race ahead, seeing Shadow in the distance, and for the first time since meeting her, she runs right through the center, keeping out of the shadows, perfectly visible to anyone who’d want to use her as a target.

“She wants to be caught,” Siren rushes out, seeing the very thing I’m seeing. “Foolish child. She’s trying to save us.”

I grit my teeth, hating the thought of this kid trying to sacrifice herself for us, and more than that, I hate that she was raised to believe this is her only option. Self-sacrifice isn’t the honor she thinks it is because if she were to get hurt, neither myself or Siren would be able to live with ourselves following this. And because of that, when the three of us get out of this fucking godforsaken town—which we fucking will—dealing with that organization and the underground training camp will be one of my top priorities.

The Texan Reaper begins to gain on Shadow, and my heart races with fear. “FUCKING RUN, SHADOW,” I call behind her, knowing she could run laps around this asshole without breaking a fucking sweat.

“No, no, no,” Siren frets, unsheathing a blade from her thigh holster, then just as The Texan Reaper gets close enough to reach out for Shadow, Siren launches the blade with everything she’s got.

The blade sinks heavily into the back of his shoulder, and he roars in agony, but it’s not enough to take him out. His hand closes around Shadow’s forearm, and he violently yanks her back, whipping her around so that her small back is pressed against his massive chest. He whirls them both around, looks us dead in the eyes, and rears his arm back, his blade glistening in the moonlight.

Siren lets out a bloodcurdling scream just as The Texan Reaper whips his hand forward, aiming right for Shadow’s throat, but she throws herself down and twists, her arm shooting up like lightning and squeezing the trigger of Siren’s favorite gun.

BANG! BANG!

The bullets plunge right through the bottom of The Texan Reaper’s chin and through the back of his skull, and I watch with wide eyes as his heavy body instantly crumbles to the ground.

The final contender of the games has been eliminated.

28

SIREN

The sun is only just kissing the horizon as the three of us drive in silence back to the place we’ve called home for the past two weeks. The lake is calm with the soft glow of the early morning fog resting on top, and the air in Blue Springs somehow seems sweeter.

I haven’t been able to get my thoughts in line since the moment Shadow appeared in the doorway of that funhouse. Sacrificing herself for us . . . It was a feeling I never want to experience again in my life.

I’ve never been so scared or felt so helpless, and when she pulled that gun and took the final shot, finishing these games for good, the relief was bittersweet. We made it through together, and yet the whiplash of emotions has left me feeling rattled, and I don’t think I’m going to be okay with it for a while. I need time. I need space to breathe, to simply look at Shadow and see that she’s in one piece, and more than that, I need to figure out a way to erase the memories of Shadow on that burning cart and being pulled into The Texan Reaper’s chest.

Reaper pulls into the familiar driveway, and as the three of us clamber out of the car and make our way inside, Reaper waits for me, dropping his hand to the small of my back. The touch is everything, and as we walk through the door together, it’s just a little easier to breathe, but I know this moment of peace will be short-lived.

It’s the morning of day twenty-nine, and we have until the stroke before midnight tomorrow night to figure out how the hell we’re going to get out of here in one piece.

There’s no winning for us.

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