CHAPTER 2

MAYA

I woke up with a splitting headache.

My eyes felt heavy, like someone had glued them shut. I forced them open and blinked at the bright lights above me. Where was I?

The bus. I was still on the bus. But it wasn't moving anymore.

I sat up slowly, my body feeling weird and tingly. Around me, the other passengers were waking up too, groaning and rubbing their eyes.

"What happened?" a woman's voice asked.

"We were drugged," a man said. "That song... it knocked us out."

I looked around for Damien and found him in the back, already awake. He was staring out the window with a strange look on his face.

The bus doors suddenly hissed open.

"Everyone off the bus," a cheerful female voice announced through the speakers. "You have sixty seconds to exit, or the bus will explode. Have a wonderful day!"

"She did not just say explode," a woman in a nurse's uniform whispered behind me.

"MOVE!" someone shouted, and suddenly everyone was pushing and shoving toward the exit and running toward a large space. A few seconds later, we heard the sound of an explosion and everyone ducked with gasp filling the air.

"Oh my God," someone whispered behind me.

"Attention, players." A voice said over a speaker, and I stood to take in my environment.

We were standing in a massive space that looked like an airport terminal, but a hundred times bigger. The ceiling was so high I could barely see it. And everywhere I looked, there were people. Hundreds of people. No, thousands of people.

All wearing the same confused expressions.

Damian stood about ten feet away, his expensive suit jacket torn at the shoulder. His perfect hair was messy for the first time since I'd known him. He looked scared, and I'd never seen Damien Cross scared of anything.

Good. Let him be scared for once.

A giant screen flickered to life above us, showing our faces in small boxes like a video game character selection screen. Next to each face was a number. The number and faces kept increasing till it reached 4000. Mine said "Player 7." Damien was "Player 13."

We were a diverse group of 4,000 people in the middle of nowhere.

"Welcome to THE SURVIVAL GAME! You are four thousand strong! Well, for now anyway." the cheerful robotic voice came again.

Nervous murmur rippled through the crowd.

"Before we begin, we have some housekeeping to do. You will all be processed and assigned your belongings with your number attached to it. Please form lines at the processing stations."

Walls slid open around the massive space, revealing dozens of stations with masked people in black uniforms standing behind them. They looked like airport security, but scarier.

Nobody moved at first. Then someone started walking toward a station, and like dominoes, everyone followed.

I got in the nearest line. It was long, with maybe two hundred people in front of me. Damien was several lines over. I could see his tall figure even in the crowd.

The line moved slowly. When I finally reached the front, a masked person gestured for me to step forward.

"Number," the robotic voice said.

"Number 7."

They typed something on a tablet. "Age."

"Twenty-eight."

"Cause of death."

I blinked. "What?"

"How did you die?" the masked person asked impatiently.

"I... I don't know. I got into a taxi and then..." I trailed off. I didn't remember dying. But that voice on the bus had said we were all dead.

"Car accident," the masked person decided, typing it in. "Next, surrender all personal items."

I handed over my phone and my purse. I didn't have anything else.

"Wedding ring," the masked person pointed at my hand.

I looked down at my finger. Right. I was still wearing it. I pulled it off and dropped it into their bag without looking at it.

"Through that door. Change into your uniform. You have five minutes."

I walked through the indicated door and found myself in a huge locker room. Hundreds of women were already there, changing into their orange jumpsuits.

I quickly changed into mine. On the back was a white number: 0007.

Player 7. That's who I was now. No longer Maya. Just Player 7.

When I came back out, the main space had transformed with all the stations gone. At the far end was a massive red door.

"Attention, players!" the voice boomed again. "Processing is complete. You are now four thousand players ready to begin THE SURVIVAL GAME!"

The crowd murmured nervously.

"Let me explain the rules," the voice continued. "You will compete in games for forty days. Each day is one round, and each round, players will be eliminated. The last player standing after forty days wins the grand prize: you get to return to your life, and you get one wish granted. Anything you desire!"

"What kind of games?" someone shouted.

"Simple games! Games you all played as children! But with modifications to make them more... exciting." The voice giggled. "Today is Day One. Your first game is called Red Light, Green Light!"

"The rules are simple," the voice continued. "You must reach the red door before time runs out. When the doll says green light, you may move. When the doll says red light, you must freeze completely. Any movement during red light will result in immediate elimination."

"Elimination?" a young guy with glasses asked. "What does that mean?"

Nobody answered him.

Just then, a massive doll slowly rose from the ground near the far wall. It looked like a little girl, maybe eight feet tall, with a white dress and long black hair covering it's face. When the hair moved, I saw its face had big black holes for eyes and a red smile.

I felt sick looking at it.

"You have ten minutes to reach the door," the voice said. "Starting now. Good luck, players!"

The doll's head turned to face the wall.

"GREEN LIGHT," it said in a voice that sounded wrong, like a child and a demon mixed together.

Nobody moved. We all just stood there, staring.

"I suggest you start running," Damien said quietly. "This isn't a joke."

He took off toward the red door, his long legs eating up the distance. Something about his confidence made others follow. Soon, half the group was running.

I started running too. My tight shoes matched against the ground. Stupid shoes for a death game, but I didn't dare stop to take them off.

"RED LIGHT."

The doll's head whipped around so fast it made a cracking sound. I froze mid-step, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst.

I could see the doll's face now. Empty black holes where her eyes should be. A smile painted in blood red. She was looking at us, scanning back and forth.

Don't move. Don't even breathe.

"Player 4 eliminated."

I heard a sound like a gunshot, then a thump. From the corner of my eye, I saw a young guy fall to the ground. There was a perfect hole in his forehead, smoking slightly.

People began to scream and some started running towards the exit, but I dare.

"Player 9 eliminated. Player 349 eliminated. Player 3999 eliminated." 

The number went on and on, followed by gunshots.

Oh God. Oh God, this was real. They were killing us.

My legs started shaking. I wanted to run, to drop to the ground, to do anything except stand here frozen like a target. But I couldn't move. Not even a little.

The doll's head slowly turned back to the wall.

"GREEN LIGHT."

Everyone ran. People were crying, screaming, pushing each other aside. The nurse who had been behind me on the bus tripped and fell. Nobody stopped to help her up.

I ran harder than I'd ever run in my life. My lungs burned, and my feet screamed in pain, but I didn't stop.

"RED LIGHT."

I froze again, but this time my body was leaning forward, unbalanced. I felt myself starting to tip over. If I fell, I'd move. If I moved, I'd die.

I dug my toes into the ground, using every muscle to stay perfectly still. Sweat dripped down my face, and I wanted to wipe it away so badly.

"Player 11, 3, 50, 100, 1996 eliminated."

More bodies hit the ground.

How many of us were left? I couldn't count without moving my eyes too much.

Damien was ahead of me, frozen in a running position. He'd always been athletic, always perfect at everything. Of course, he was winning even this sick game.

"GREEN LIGHT."

I pushed forward again. The red door was getting closer. Maybe fifty feet away.

"RED LIGHT."

This time I was ready. I stopped clean, both feet flat on the ground. I could see Damien clearly now. He was only about twenty feet from the door. He was going to make it for sure.

And I hated that I was glad. I hated that even after everything he'd done to me, some stupid part of me didn't want him to die.

"GREEN LIGHT."

The rest of us ran like our lives depended on it. Well, it did.

"RED LIGHT."

I stopped. I was maybe fifteen feet from the door. Damien was right at it, his hand almost touching the metal. But he'd frozen just before reaching it, like the game wanted to torture him by making him so close but not quite safe.

The doll scanned us slowly. Back and forth. Back and forth.

"GREEN LIGHT."

I ran with everything I had left in me to the red door. My hand was stretched out, inches from the door. Damien was right next to me, in the same position. We'd both frozen at the same moment, both reaching for safety that was just out of reach.

Our eyes met.

"Maya," he whispered, barely moving his lips. "I'm sorry."

"RED LIGHT."

"It's too late for apologies," I whispered.

"Talking is movement," the doll said.

Shit!

I've always known Damien would be the end of me. I shut my eyes tightly waiting to meet my creator.