The Assassin Game (28 page)

“Put yer little stick away, Alex,” Vaughan says. “It's embarrassing. Dead wood, just like you.”

“No, you're the one who's dead!” Alex swings the plank over his head, aiming for Vaughan, who dodges, but the wood still catches his shoulder and he falls to the ground with a thud and a splash.

“Leave him alone!” I hurl myself at Alex, but he stands strong and pushes me aside with his free hand. I stumble, the rising water sloshing around my ankles.

“This is my Game!” Alex yells. “My Game is going to be the most talked about Game in all of Umfraville history, it's going to bury what came before! That's what it's all about, isn't it? Leaving your mark, making them remember you.” He flourishes his cape. “No one tops my Game. I wrote this story, but you two, you helped me shape it, and you should be proud of that.” He kicks out at Vaughan, who brings his feet up and shields the blow. “Vaughan? Misunderstood genius, gone off the rails.” He winks at him. “I think the police must have found the belladonna powder in your room, Vaughan. Isn't it amazing what you can buy on the Internet these days?” He swings the plank out, pointing at me again. “And Cate? Crazy bitch. The two of you played Killer by your own rules. You made up a charming character called Skulk, you went on an attempted murder spree to take out your friends, and you almost pulled it off too, but luckily I managed to save the day and stop you. Do you see? I'm the hero in all of this. Oh yes—you both died, but it's collateral damage, and nothing that anyone will get too upset about once they know what you did.”

“How?” I say. “Just how do we die, Alex?” I step up to him. “You beat us to a bloodied pulp with that plank?” I shake my head. “Can't see you getting your hands that dirty. So please, share with us this amazing final scene you've written, because I don't remember you being able to write much more than your name. Unless you get Martin to do it for you.”

His eyes flash with fury. “Oh, I'll share.” He throws down the plank and drags me to the ladder. “Originally, Cate, it was going to be you tied and drowned by your boyfriend, Vaughan, who, filled with remorse at his brutality, climbs the ladder and makes the ultimate gesture of despair. Beautiful. But why don't we have a switcheroo?” He grabs me by the scruff of my neck and brings me up close. “Seems you like to do that, don't you?”

“Screw you.”

“You had your chance.” He spits at me.

I reach into my parka…and my hand pulls out nothing.

“Looking for this?” Alex holds up the modeling knife I'd dropped on the floor at Mr. Flynn's house. How did he get that? Flynny put it on the sideboard. Oh God, Alex must have been inside the house. He chuckles, flourishing the knife at me, and pushes me toward the ladder. “Now, up!”

“No!” I brace myself against the ladder, pushing back on him. Alex lets me go and leans down, holding the knife under Vaughan's chin. Vaughan is slumped, barely conscious, his eyes fluttering. “Want me to slice him up a little, for the fish?”

I scream, and Alex points with the knife, up at the ladder. Reluctantly, I start to climb, looking down at Vaughan.

“Don't worry, Cate,” Alex says. “Your boyfriend isn't going anywhere. And I'll be right behind you.”

“You better not touch him!” I yell down at him.

“Oh, I won't,” Alex says. “I might catch something.”

I reach the top of the ladder. There's a small platform with a rail around it, and the tiny shed-like refuge. I hurry into the hut, searching the inside for anything I can use as a weapon. There's little: a lifebelt tied to a rope, two life jackets, and a couple fusty-looking blankets on a bench.

“It's hopeless, Cate.” Alex fills the doorway behind me, his singsong voice low and almost calm, his cape blowing in the breeze. “Hopeless. That's what you were thinking when you climbed up here.” He walks over to the lifebelt and starts to unwind the rope. “You'd left Vaughan down in the rising water, trussed up, knowing the tide was coming in, knowing he couldn't swim, and it would just be a matter of time before the sea took him—for real this time.” He chuckles and winks at me. “Third time unlucky, eh?” He unties the rope from the ring and sets the ring aside on the bench. “You wait until the tide is coming in, and Vaughan is flopping around, facedown, very sad. You stand—here”—he steps outside to the platform—“and watch his body jerk, his death throes, his last-ditch effort to survive. But it's futile.” He walks outside and begins to tie one end of the rope to the railing that runs the length of the platform, then twists the other end and ties it into a loop. “Then, you see me—I've driven out as far as I dare, and the car is stuck in the water. I'm standing on the roof, and I'm shouting at you—‘No, no, Cate! Don't do it!'” He giggles and walks toward me slowly, the loop of rope in his hands. I back into the hut again. “But I'm too late, and as usual, you won't listen to me. We know how stubborn you can be when you have your mind set.” He follows me, dangling the loop in front of me: a noose. “And you have your mind set.”

“No!” I push him away, dodge around him and out onto the platform, but as I break for the ladder he catches me easily around the waist and holds me in a horrible embrace as I thrash against him.

“Oh, Cate!” He laughs. “Give us a hug!”

“Get your hands off me!” I scream at him. I lift a leg and scrape the inside of my foot down his shin as hard as I can. He cries out in surprise, and as he releases me I take the heel of my hand and ram it up the underside of his chin, knocking his head back and making him stumble. Thanks for those boring self-defense lessons last term, Mr. Churley.

Something clatters onto the wooden floor. We both look down; Alex has dropped the modeling knife. We dive for it; I get there first, but the full weight of him falls on my head, making my ears ring. My hand is on the knife, but my arm is trapped under me, and I can't get it out. Alex pulls at me, grunting, and as I roll, I grab the knife and find my feet, and I'm backing away, brandishing my weapon in front of me.

Alex is on his feet too, panting, bent low, his arms holding out his cloak. He laughs.

“Thanks for putting your fingerprints all over that knife again, Cate.” He takes a step toward me. “I'd wiped it clean after using it on Ms. Lasillo. Now if they find it, they'll know it was you who jumped her.”

I gasp.

He takes another step. “Oh, you should have seen her, Cate. I was hiding in the wardrobe, can you believe it?” He chuckles. “Always check the cupboard for monsters! She never saw what hit her.”

I feel sick. “Is she dead?”

He beams at me. “I would think. Your dear Mr. Flynn certainly sounded like he thought so.”

I step backward, steadying myself against the railing behind me. “You killed him too?”

For the first time, he seems a little crestfallen. “No. I didn't have time. Other places to be, you know?” He shakes his head. “Besides, I owed him one. He locked you in the garage, didn't he, with his dodgy motor? Priceless! Nearly finished you off for me.”

Below, I can hear waves. That's not a good sign. Vaughan moans, and my eyes dart downward.

“Oh dear,” Alex says. “The water is getting deeper.” He grabs one of the life vests that has rolled out onto the platform and puts it on under his cloak. “I didn't want to have to make a swim for it, but I'm sure the police will be with us soon enough, thanks to Mr. Flynn.” He picks up the noose again and smiles at me. “You'll excuse me if we get this over with, Cate?”

“You forget that I'm the one holding the knife!” I shout at him.

He laughs, shakes his head, whips off his cloak in a flourish, and holds it out in front of him, rushing at me with a roar. I dodge, holding the knife out to the side, trying to evade the cloak, but he is too quick for me, and he smothers it with the thick velvet, bundling it out of my hand and over the side of the platform. The momentum smashes him against the railing, and I spin around and try to push him over.

“Nah-ah-ah!” He ducks out of my way, waggling a finger in my face. “Don't you think I've seen that move a thousand times?” He laughs at me, reaches out a hand, and grabs my throat, pulling me in close. “You have a date, Cate.” He puts the noose over my head, tightening it and holding my arms against me. I struggle, but he holds me fast, leaning in close and whispering in my ear. “Your last one. With death.”

I turn my face to his, my mind racing. “It doesn't have to be this way, Alex.” My cheek is against his, eyelashes gently fluttering against his skin. “Rewrite this. You save me, from Vaughan. It was all him, all along. I was the damsel in distress in the tower, and you came to my rescue. We wait until he drowns, we cut him free, push him out into the waves—they'll never know.” I breathe into his ear. “Isn't that a better ending? That way you're really the hero.” I laugh softly. “And bonus: this way, you don't have to get wet. We cuddle up together here until the police arrive.”

He draws back from me, incredulous, chuckling. “I'm impressed. You really are the total package, Cate. Too bad I didn't realize that before the Game began. We could have worked together from the start.” He leans in again. “Only one problem. I don't trust you.”

“No.” I see the movement from the corner of my eye. “No. You shouldn't.”

Alex pulls back from me, crying out in pain, his hand moving down to his ankle, where the modeling knife has found a new home.

Vaughan lets go of the knife and hauls himself over the top of the ladder, his hands and feet free. “Push him!”

I don't need to be told. I hurl myself at Alex, who falls toward the gap in the railing where the ladder is and where Vaughan is trying to get out of his way. As I pick myself up, they tangle—Alex on top, Vaughan trying to shake him off. I aim a superhero kick at Alex's head, but even though I connect, his head snaps back, and he clings on still. It's enough for Vaughan to free an arm, and he swings a punch to the throat. Alex sits bolt upright, on top of him, a look of hurt surprise on his face.

“Go to hell!” I push him again, and this time he goes, falling backward down the ladder. But the fall is cut short. His legs get caught in the rungs, and he manages to throw out an arm and cling on.

I pull Vaughan back from the edge, and he hops up onto his good foot.

“Look!” he says, his eyes turned toward Skola. There on the island, lights are flashing. Headlights—two, three pairs. And a horn is beeping, cutting through the sound of the waves and the cry of the seabirds.

I go back to the edge of the platform and look down at Alex. He's still there, one arm hooked over a rung, the other reaching down to try and pull the knife out of his ankle. He frees the blade with a cry, but the knife slips through his finger and falls into the water below.

“Alex!” I shout at him. “They're coming!”

Alex looks in the direction I'm pointing. His face hardens, and then, unbelievably, he starts to pull himself back up the ladder toward us.

“What are you doing?” I shout. Vaughan appears at my side. Alex stops, threads his legs through the ladder, and sits there.

“I'm waiting this one out.” He looks up at us. “Who are they going to believe? The nutso girl and the freaky new kid—with all that lovely evidence piled against them?—or me, golden boy?” He flashes his best smile. “Want to play?”

“Certainly.” Vaughan kneels. “Because, Alex, if you should have learned anything about me, it's that I come prepared. Why did I go missing in the first place? Because I needed time to catch you. I've traced every keystroke Skulk made, back to you—your tablet, your laptop, the machines you logged into at school.”

“You're full of it!” Alex snarls. “You told me you couldn't tell who any of the users were! If you had known, you would have told the police days ago!”

Vaughan shakes his head. “I needed time to access the code and lay a trap on Crypt. Why do you think I left the door open for Skulk?”

“So what?” Alex says. “Even if I was Skulk, that doesn't prove I Killed anyone, does it?”

Vaughan looks very serious. I feel my heart jump. “No,” he says quietly. “It doesn't.” He delves into his pocket. “But this does.” He holds out Tesha's mini-cam. “Great little things, these. Waterproof, resilient.” He shakes his head. “Good at recording stuff.”

“Ha!” Alex snorts. “You expect me to believe—”

“This is my Game!” Alex is interrupted by his own voice, coming from the little camcorder. “My Game is going to be the most talked about Game in all of Umfraville history. It's going to bury what came before!”

“Alex?” Vaughan shrugs, turns it off. “You're Killed.”

Alex shrieks at him, reaching up for the camera, but he's too far below. He looks toward Skola and the headlights, and then he makes his decision. He scrambles down the ladder, sploshing into the now waist-deep water, and wades toward Mr. Flynn's car, pulling at the door handle, but whether it's the water or the crappy locks again, it won't open. He reaches inside the smashed window, but nothing gives—instead, the alarm screams, and the headlight flashes on and off. Alex yells in frustration and, with a last glance at Skola, begins to wade down the causeway in the direction of the mainland.

We watch him, the orange of his life jacket visible for a minute or two, but eventually the darkness swallows him up, and he is gone.

“Bad decision,” Vaughan says. “Two miles of water that way. Believe me, I thought about trying it.”

The alarm on Mr. Flynn's car makes a funny, strangled, underwater noise, like it's drowning. Then it stops altogether. I lean against the refuge, Vaughan shuffles on his knees and flops down beside me, and together we look back to Skola. There's movement there, more lights. My guess is they're organizing a boat or two, probably phoning the coast guard. I wonder who they'll pick up first. I really hope we don't have to share a boat with Alex. That would just be awkward.