“Don’t tell me what to do,” Ellis growled.
“Roid rage getting to you?”
“No.Youare getting to me,” Ellis snapped back. There was no humor in his tone. He was angry and getting angrier by the second.
“Maybe we need to focus on what wedoknow, not what wedon’t, okay?” Ana cut in, moving between Raya and Ellis. “I think I know what the Balloon Game is. They played it on the debate team.”
As part of her scholarship deal, Ana had been roped into joining the hugely unpopular debate team, aka social death in an orange-and-gray striped polo shirt.Other than Maia Walsh, the team captain, Ana had been the only girl on the team, alongside a group of nerdy boys and a handful of slackers who were forced to participate as punishment for various infringements. Karl Hunt was one of them.
“So, what is it? That carnival game where you throw darts at balloons? Is someone going to throw darts at us now?” Ellis’s tone was sarcastic. He kicked at a piece of burning wood.
“No, it’s a morality game. You imagine you’re on a hot-air balloon and there’s a leak. The balloon is sinking, and you’ll all die unless you throw someone overboard. Each round, you have to debate whodeserves to live and who doesn’t. Then you vote. Each round, another person dies.”
She stopped, suddenly aware of what she had just said. The real-life implication of her words was not lost on them.
“So, you’re saying the motel is the balloon? We’re all trapped here, and some psycho wants us to vote who leaves the motel every hour? They want us to choose who dies?” Raya said, her tone incredulous.
Ana nodded. This was insane.
“Wait! It’sSurvivor!” Jax declared loudly. “Holy cow, we’re playingSurvivor! Who will leave the island? I told you! It’s a game. It’s all a game. I’m so into this. Where’s Jeff? Show me the money! I’m totally gonna win this one.” Jax was shouting now.
“Seriously, Jax—you’re so right. It’sSurvivor.Desert Survivor. Oh my god, itisa game.” Jade clasped her hands in delight, immaculate nails clattering against each other. “Got to say it, babe, I was a little worried, you know?”
Ana watched in disbelief. How had they joined the dots and come up withSurvivor? Someone had set up the structure for them to self-destruct. They had provided the rules for murder.
“Look, whether it’s a game or not, we know that someone went to a lot of effort to set this up. We know that we were all chosen to come here for a reason—all seven of us.” She hesitated before saying the next part; she didn’t want to throw Benny under his bus, but anything was better than standing around listening to conspiracy theories all night long.
Besides, the one thing they needed more than anything else right now was information.
“The other thing we know for a fact is that only one person here has no connection to St. Francis High. That might be a good place to start looking for some answers. I think it’s time we talked to Benny.”
7
Ana
On the scale of scary things that wake you in the night, seven angry high schoolers bashing on your door was right up there with creepy clowns and broken-necked ladies. At least it was for Benny.
When he opened the door, his red face had an almost comical expression—somewhere between abject terror and resignation. But, to his credit, he rallied quickly.
“Whad’ya think y’all are doing banging on my door like that? I was gettin’ my beauty sleep,” he grumbled, his eyes watchful, uncertain. He was still wearing his uniform, belt undone now.
Ellis didn’t stop to explain; he pushed his way past Benny and led the charge into the motel room.
The room was just as dated and funky as the rest of the motel, but oddly, it suited Benny. He looked like he was in his natural environment. Shabby and stale. The air reeked of cigarettes and alcohol. Clearly, he’d raided his minibar too; several bottles were lying empty on the bed.
“We need answers,” Ellis said, thrusting his phone in front of Benny’s face.
Benny squinted at the screen, mouthing out the words as he read:
“You are all guilty…The Balloon Game… What’s going on? What’s all that about, then?” He scratched his bald spot, looking flummoxed.
It took a solid few minutes of explanation to get him to catch up. He kept asking for bits of information to be repeated, and then squinted his eyes as though that would help it seep in. Finally, he seemed to get it.
“Phew,” he muttered, sinking down on the end of the bed. “I dunno, but that sure doesn’t sound good.”
“Really? You think?” Ellis said coolly. He was unnaturally still, arms folded across his chest, studying Benny’s face. “Show us your phone.”
“My phone? Why?”
