Rush The Game

shut down and tell me nothing.
    “I left her there,” he says, “and the Drau took her and they put her on machines and kept her body alive long enough to create an army of shells in her image. And three times now, I’ve had to go back in and kill my sister all over again.”
    My legs give way and I’m on my knees, tears streaking down my cheeks. I hold my hand out to him, feeling his pain, aching to heal him. “Jackson,” I whisper.
    He shakes his head and backs up another step. “No, I’m not done. You think that’s the worst of it? It isn’t. I didn’t just kill my sister, Miki. I did this to you . I doomed you to this. I’m the one. I found you. I convinced them to take you. All because I thought it was a way out. I thought I could trade you for my freedom. I convinced them to take you even though they don’t usually take kids that have no siblings.” He offers an ugly laugh. “How ridiculous is that? They think that if a family loses one child, it’ll be easier if they have a second one. A spare.” The words are harsh and guttural. “They don’t understand humans. Not at all.”
    I stare at him, trying to understand. “But they took you. They took both of you. Lizzie and you.”
    Jackson stares at me for a long moment. “I volunteered. Like I had a choice. It was volunteer for the game or die in that car.”
    I wrap my arms around myself, chilled to the core, my emotions stretching and recoiling like an elastic band. From the euphoria of Jackson’s kiss to this, to the tears tracking down my cheeks and the pain in my soul.
    “So, I’m in the game because of you?”
    “Yes.” His beautiful mouth twists. “Hate me now, Miki. I deserve it. I told you my motives were anything but pure.” I gasp and flinch when he spins and slams his fist against the wall. He stands there, chest heaving, head bowed. Blood drips from his knuckles. “I’d change it if I could. I’d give my life for you if I could.”
    He doesn’t look at me. I don’t know how much time passes. A minute. An hour. Then he says, “And it was for nothing. They’ll never let me go. They’ll never let either of us go.”
    I want to go to him. I want to run from him, from this place, from the tangled mess my life has become. I don’t know what to think, how to feel. I’m angry and hurt. Betrayed. Appalled. Part of me hates him for what he’s consigned me to. Part of me only knows that his pain hurts me, too.
    He’s been doing this for so long. I can’t imagine how desperate he was to escape.
    My brain is on overload. I can’t process everything I’ve learned.
    “Do you remember in the park when you told me not to feel guilty that I was alive when Richelle and Mom and Gram and Sofu were dead? Do you remember that?” I watch as another fat drop of blood slides from his split knuckles and hits the ground.
    “You have nothing to feel guilty for,” he says, his voice low, vibrating with emotion. “You didn’t kill them.” He turns to face me then, his eyes blazing. “And you didn’t consign the girl you love to this hell.”
    The girl he loves.
    I open my mouth to tell him I hate him for what he’s done to me. Or maybe it’s to tell him I love him, too. To tell him I forgive him. I do. I forgive him. Don’t I?
    I need to tell him that maybe he wasn’t the one who killed his sister. That maybe the Drau who were attacking them killed her with their weapons.
    But the wooziness I recognize too well hits me. I try to push to my feet. I try to speak. Then the world spins into color and light and bright, sharp pain bursting in my head as I make the jump.



CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
    THE RESPAWN IS TERRIBLE. NOT PHYSICALLY—I’M USED TO that part now. But my emotions are tied up in ugly little knots, choking me. I open my eyes to leaves and grass and two familiar boulders; Luka’s sitting on one, Tyrone on the other.
    “What the hell happened?” Luka asks.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Something went down at the pizza place. Were you and Jackson pulled before me?”
    I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, how much I’m allowed to tell him. So I tell him the truth. “I don’t know what I’m allowed to tell you.”
    He stands up and closes the space between us. I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. They’re blue now, squinting a little as he studies me, his brows drawn in a frown. I look from him to Tyrone and back again.
    Fear congeals in my gut. “Where’s Jackson?” I ask, my voice a harsh