Worse still, as he got closer, he recognized the emo witch. Raya Mori was staring at the ground. He could just make out something white at her feet.
“Good morning,” he announced as he got close. He’d already decided he wouldn’t tell her about his snack supply. Maybe he could outlast her and leave her along the roadside. “Are we escaping together?”
“Ellis, come here. You’ve got to see this,” Raya called out. She was pointing at a thick white line that had been spray-painted on the red dirt. It stretched out in both directions on either side of them. “Weird, right? I don’t remember this being here when we arrived. Why would someone paint a white line in the middle of nowhere?”
Ellis stopped. His eyes followed the line off towards the horizon on one side, only to see it curving back on itself. A feeling of dread started in his stomach, creeping up slowly as he turned to look at the Motel Loba.
“It’s not a line. It’s a circle. Look.” His voice was tinged with tension.
Both of them faced the cluster of pink buildings. From their vantage point it was clear what Ellis was talking about. The white line formed a perfect circle around the motel, the bus, and all the random sheds and outbuildings. The only part of the Motel Loba that wasn’t inside the circle was the road sign, which stood a solid ten feet outside the line.
“Jesus, it’s starting…isn’t it?” Raya half-whispered. She wrapped her arms around herself.
Ellis didn’t say anything. He got the message. Yeah, very scary. So, they were trapped inside the circle. Maybe Jax was right, and it was some stupid online prank. Don’t cross the line, win a million pretzels. If some idiot YouTuber did show up, Ellis would get his father to sue the hell out of them. Some fucking joke.
He walked up to the edge of the white line and nudged it with the tip of his sneaker.
Whoever painted the line had made one small miscalculation: Ellis Locke wasn’t into games. They could spray-paint all over the place. No one was keeping him here another minute, and if they thought a stupid line would stop him—well, he was the king of crossing fucking lines.
He was about to step forward when a black-fingernailed hand caught his arm.
“Wait,” said Raya. “We should think about this first. The message said—”
“I don’t give a fuck what the message said. Some fucker is playing with us,” Ellis snapped. “Someone thinks this is some great game. Very funny. Well, I’m not playing.”
“But what if the message was right? You heard it. It said if you leave the circle—”
“Jesus Christ, Raya. It’s just a line—it’sspray paint! I’m not afraid ofa damn line.” Ellis turned away from her dismissively. This was not the time for overthinking.
He checked his watch again. It was eight a.m. now and the air temperature was creeping up steadily. It was time to get going. The game wouldn’t start for almost two hours. He had a head start and a bag full of snacks. He was leaving, and as far as he was concerned, Raya Mori could do whatever the hell she liked. She wasn’t his problem.
Raya stepped away from Ellis.
“Fine. You go for it, Ellis. Knock yourself out there, big guy. I’ll just stay here and watch from a safe distance,” she said, smiling.
“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. Hedefinitelywouldn’t get her rescued.
This conversation was getting old. In fact, this whole drama was getting old. In fact, this whole motel was…well, already old. Grabbing his suitcase, he marched across the line, not a flicker of worry. He was going home. A few steps in and nothing bad had happened. He couldn’t resist gloating, just a little bit. Turning back, arms outstretched as if to sayI told you so, he smiled.
“See. Nothing to worry about. Nothin—”
Bang.
A sharp crack made him cower. Dirt flew up inches from his feet. He froze in shock, his mind processing what was happening.
Bang.Another report, just behind him.
Gunfire.
His instincts kicked in this time, and in one bound, he leaped back across the line, stumbling and falling to his knees. Hands grabbed him. Raya pulled him back from the edge, both scrabbling to get away.
Somehow, they made it to the wreckage of the bus and fell, panting, in the dirt behind the warped metal frame.
Ellis looked around wildly, catching Raya’s eye. There was a familiar look there. One he had hoped he would never see again, not in this lifetime. It was more than fear. Not the hollowed-out look of shock or grief. It was more basic, feral. Like a cornered animal. He’d seen it in the school gym a year ago. He’d seen it in the eyes of his friends when the roof fell, flames crashing around them. He saw it in the mirror for weeks after the fire, staring blankly back at him, taut with shock.
This was really happening.
Someone was shooting at them.
