Page 115 of Kill Feed

“Hey—”

My eyes scan the screen. It’s the same skull. Same glitching message. Same fucking interface. Cold spreads through my chest slowly and carefully, threading between my sinews with surgical precision.

I hand the phone back to her and drag a hand through my hair, suddenly unable to stay still.

This. Isn’t. Fucking. Happening.

We’re not part of the game. You register to play; only then can you be picked. That’s what Leo said. How is this—

“This is a joke, right?” Lucas claims, voice barely stable, clutching the phone so hard with one hand as the other drags over and over at the side of his jeans. Jesus, it looks like he is about to throw up.

“The first game will commence in ten minutes. All players, prepare yourselves.”

Amani closes the distance between her and Lucas, grabbing him by the shoulder hard enough to jolt him. “Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you two?” Her eyes dart between us before she rolls them and shakes her head. “Are you guys fucking with me?”

She taps rapidly at her screen. “Is this a prank? Is— is my… are our phones being hacked?”

She won’t understand the severity of this. Not like I do. Wait, not like Lucas either. If anything, he knows we’re fucked.

A countdown starts ticking off the screen.

09 minutes and 30 seconds.

I shove my phone into my pocket and cross the room fast, grabbing Lucas by both shoulders hard enough that he finally blinks at me. All sorts of questions fill the corners of my mind in all sorts of perplexity and rage, but I shove it down for now.

“What’s the first game?”

Lucas’s eyes snap to mine. “W-what?”

“Pull yourself together,” I say sharply. “You know more about Kill Feed than anyone. You talked about this shit for hours back at the bar with Leo and Ryan, remember?”

Remembrance flashes across his face.

Then panic.

“Oh my God,” he mutters, dragging a trembling hand down his mouth before letting out nervous laughter. “Oh my fucking God, this is actually happening.”

“Lucas,” I say, snapping my fingers at his face. He swallows hard before forcing himself upright. “The first game…” His voice cracks. “The first game is all about the location. They need to get contestants to the arena first.”

“The arena?” I ask. “Where?”

“It changes every year.”

Amani walks toward us now, breathing unevenly. “Can someone please tell me what the fuck is happening?”

I ignore her, my focus staying locked on Lucas. “How does it work?”

He glances at the countdown.

08 minutes and 10 seconds.

“When the timer hits zero,” he says quickly, “a map will appear on our phones with the location. But there’s also a circle—”

“A circle?” I retort. He isn’t giving me this information fast enough, and we are running out of time.

“It gets smaller over time,” he continues, words almost tripping over each other. “You have to stay inside it. If you leave the boundary—” His throat bobs. “The hunters are allowed to kill you.”

OK. That’s it then, and all I need to turn on my heel before Amani can stop me, moving down the short hallway toward my bedroom while her voice follows behind me, strained and confused.