|
|
Part Two: Select Your Targets
“If you can’t get killed, it’s not a sport; it’s a hobby.” - Beth Moreau
The mood in the diner was one of excitement -- very nervous excitement. Twelve brave souls had agreed to enter into this madness, and practically all of Mainframe had shown up to see the hunt officially begin. Dot was on one end of the room, proclaiming to anyone who would listen that she was really bad at this sort of thing, and could whoever drew her name please go easy on her? Matrix was sitting in a nearby booth with an expression that could only be described as arrogant. He was going to kick some serious ASCII, and anyone who doubted it would soon learn otherwise. He was reveling in these thoughts when he noticed AndrAIa staring at him. “What?” he asked.
The girl rolled her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“And?”
AndrAIa leaned her forehead against his. “You’re going down,” she said with a self-confident grin.
Bob was pacing the length of the diner, trying to work out some sort of strategy. The key to this game was to stay on your toes; you had to suspect everyone. He’d learned that the hard way during the Academy game, and he’d be damned if he was going to be the first one out again. Enzo was trying his best to explain to Hack and Slash the finer points of operating a Super Soaker. The pair had a few issues about pulling the trigger; after all, a trigger is a lot like a button, and every time they push a button, something bad happens. Mike the TV was bounding around the room, doing what he did best: annoying everyone within earshot.
Once she was sure no one else was coming, Mouse climbed up on a table. “All right, everybody, listen up!” she shouted. When that didn’t work, she put two fingers in her mouth and let out a loud, shrill whistle -- something Matrix and AndrAIa, sitting right next to her, didn’t exactly appreciate. “Here’s how this is gonna work,” the hacker said to her now-attentive audience. “Everyone’s gonna draw a name. After that, you’ll have one millisecond to scatter. The Principle Office, the diner, and your own homes are safety zones. No one can get ya in there, but ya can’t stay in them all the time, either. If your assassin shoots ya, you’re out of the game. If you shoot your assassin in self-defense, they’re out for one millisecond. Cecil will keep track of who’s in and who’s out. Everyone clear on the rules?” They all nodded. “Good. OK, everyone who’s playing write your name down and put it in here.” She held up an empty cup. After she had everyone’s name, she went up to the players one by one, holding the cup above eye level so they couldn’t see who they were choosing. “Everybody got one?” Mouse then pulled the last name out of the cup. She unfolded the scrap of napkin it had been written on and read the name with an almost irrepressible joy. Perfect. This couldn’t have worked out better if she had planned it.
Bob unfolded the paper slowly, almost afraid to look at what was written there. When he saw what was, he almost fainted. This was either going to be incredibly easy. . .or incredibly hard.
Dot groaned when she read the name she had drawn. How was she supposed to get him? she wondered. This was going to be even harder than she thought.
“Oh, NO!” Everyone looked over at AndrAIa’s sudden outburst. She blushed slightly, then turned back to the paper in her hand, staring at it in disbelief. There’s just no way. . .she thought. How in the Net was she going to do this?
Enzo read the name -- and his jaw practically hit the floor. That’s just creepy, he thought. This is gonna be hard.
Hack and Slash looked at the papers they had drawn, looked at each other, looked back at the names, looked back at each other. . .
Matrix looked at the name he’d selected and laughed to himself. Oh, yeah, he thought. I’m gonna enjoy this.
Phong silently contemplated the name he had drawn. The old Sprite still wasn’t entirely sure why he’d agreed to play this game, but at least, he thought, I should be able to outwit this person. He has a tendency to be impulsive, after all; that could be used against him.
Hexadecimal unfolded the paper and read the name, a devilish smile slowly spreading over her face. She had been delighted when Bob had told her of the game, and this particular Sprite was an excellent target.
Ray read the name he had drawn and almost burst out laughing. Well, he said to himself, this should be interesting.
“All right, people,” Mouse was speaking again. “Tell Cecil who ya have, and then get going. The hunt begins at 1330. Good luck.” With that, she turned and walked purposefully out of the diner. The others soon followed, giving each other uncomfortable farewells. Who among these twelve could they still trust -- and who must they avoid at all costs?