Page 33 of Terror Tuesday
Carl shrugs, like the whole thing is ajokehe’s letting everyone in on. “Yeah. Their families are asking questions…” He glances around at the group, making sure his words land. “But I think theOmegapresident did it herself.”
A chill spreads over every inch of my skin.
Suddenly, the air feels too heavy, suffocating my lungs until I cough. The accusationlingers, like Olivia’s name is written in blood across the room. I feel the weight of it. Her identity. Mine. And now we’re tangled up in this. I can’t let them tie her to it. That was never the point… No matter how much it would throwDelta’sinvolvement off.
No. I had another goal entirely.
Carl’s casual tone is the only thing breaking through my tension. He shrugs, unaffected. “Pretty sure it happened a couple of days ago. I heard the police are involved now.”
TheBetasstare at each other in disbelief. TheThetas? They don’t flinch. Only watch, leaning into the silence like they’ve already won. This isn’t the first time their little games have turned real and dangerous.
“Well, she should be crowned queen for us if so,” the butcher says with a smirk. “Think it’s because of being aCardell?”
Carl stares at theBetasone by one, his expression icy in the way he looks at them, like he holds their futures in his next word. “Probably.”
Violent tempests rage. Crackles of static blare through the feed.
The screen dances in waves, then freezes, and I jerk the mouse back and forth, cursing under my breath. Outside, the wind’s wailing in a high-pitched screech as the satellite signal drops completely.
Hurriedly, I disconnect the laptop and toss it into my backpack. I’ve lost visuals, and every muscle in my body tightens with the urgency of the moment.
The Wi-Fi should be good closer to the manor, but there’s no time to waste.Deltasdon’t need to worry. Timers are set for the doors, but I can’t risk missing anything. Not tonight.
I need to keep my eyes onher.
Staying close to the tree line, shadows stretch long and dark under the dim glow of the emerging first quarter moon. Branches snap above, their skeletal limbs trembling in the oncoming storm as I peer up at a sky that churns thick and black, threatening rain.
Fuck. That’s something I hadn’t planned for. A shower would ruin visibility and my chance to intervene if something goes sideways.
My pace quickens, boots snapping twigs. But as I curve around a massive oak, a sudden swoosh of fabric catches my attention—a cape, rustling gently in the darkness.
Sure, it’s Terror Tuesday, but this figure seems…familiar. The stance, the gait. I narrow my eyes, trying to pierce the darkness for a better view.
As I creep forward, my steps slow instinctively, a low thrum of unease settling into my gut. The guy slips between the trees with purpose, moving almost as if he’s leading me somewhere. Or baiting me.
Keeping a careful distance, I follow. Every step feels deliberate now, my muscles coiled and ready. My eyes dart around, constantly scanning for others who might be hiding in wait. But he stays within my sightline, always just ahead, a silent guide pulling me toward something in the deep abyss of the forest.
We move swiftly and quietly, the cape billowing behind him like a ghostly shadow, darting through the wooded edge of the property with only the pale, eerie moonlight illuminating his path. Crunching loudly underfoot, my steps betray me, but he doesn’t turn around. He knows I’m here—and he doesn’t care.
Or maybe he wants me to follow.
He leads me toward a steep hillside, where a cluster of maples and pines creates a dense canopy overhead. The figure stops abruptly, head tilted back, as if listening to something I can’t yet hear. I press myself against a thick trunk, breath catching in my throat as he deftly shimmies up a nearby tree, cloak rippling softly behind him.
My heartbeat pounds steadily in my ears as I watch him climb higher, moving with practiced ease. He lies out across a low branch, perfectly balanced. And then, slowly, he raises one arm, finger pointing straight ahead.
The hair on my neck stands on end.
Swallowing hard, I follow his line of sight. My breath catches, locking in my chest. A rounded, hulking man emerges from the shadows near the emergency exit of the middle cottage—one of the escape rooms Olivia will have to pass through tonight.
And then my heart nearly gives out entirely.
Olivia.
MyOlivia.
She’s ambling onto the path leading her into the escape rooms, alone. She pauses for a moment, a look of uncertainty passing across her face, before continuing toward the entrance. Completely unaware of what awaits her in the dark…twenty feet away.
My body reacts before my mind fully processes it. Adrenaline floods my system, muscles tightening, my senses sharpening with a sudden rush. But I force myself still, measuring the distance and calculating the risk. If I move too soon, I could make everything worse. He’d reach her well before I could.
