Rush The Game

his gaze from mine. But he can’t.
    Jump in thirty .
    The Committee, inside my mind.
    Thirty seconds. He only has to live for thirty more seconds. I only have to live for thirty more seconds. And then we’ll both be out.
    We’ll both be safe.
    This time.
    I come back to myself in the pizza place, standing in the aisle, halfway to the door. The broad plate-glass window stretches in front of me, and beyond it, the sunshine of the fall afternoon. I jerk as something touches my back, and I spin, ready to throw my arms around Jackson.
    But it isn’t him.
    It’s Carly.
    Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I remember what happened right before I was pulled by the Committee. It was an eternity ago and only a second ago that I leaped from the booth and dashed to the door. I remember Carly telling Jackson to let her out of the booth.
    “You okay?” she asks, sliding her arm around my waist, there for me when I need her, all forgiven.
    I look up, over her shoulder, and see Luka standing by the booth. I sag with relief at the sight of him. He made it. He’s alive. Carly tightens her hold, keeping me upright.
    Tyrone , I mouth to Luka. He gives a short nod. I close my eyes, slapped by relief. They both made it out. Kendra? Lien? Again, he nods.
    My gaze skates to the booth, to Jackson.
    He’s not there.
    With a gasp, I take a step forward, breaking from Carly’s hold. Frantic, I spin full circle, checking the whole restaurant.
    But Jackson’s not there.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
    THESE ACKNOWLEDGMENTS WILL BE HEARTFELT BUT inadequate. I say that up front because a few words of thanks cannot suffice to convey the depth of my gratitude to the many people who have helped me along the way.
    First of all, I want to thank Robin Rue, my agent, who listened to my distraught ramblings with patience, didn’t so much as blink when I said I wanted to write about aliens, found the perfect home for my manuscript, and promised me we would have fun. She’s a woman of her word. I’m having fun, Robin. And a huge thank-you to everyone at Writers’ House who works hard on my behalf, with a special shout-out to Beth Miller, who has a heart of gold and steps up when I need her, going so far as to answer my frantic questions on Christmas Eve—I’d say that’s beyond the call of duty.
    Thank you to the amazing, dedicated team at Katherine Tegen Books, with an adoring special mention of my editor, Sarah Shumway, who fell in love with this story at first sight, worked enthusiastically to help me make it the best it could be, and cheered for it every step of the way. Sarah, you cheer so loud, I can hear you all the way to Canada.
    To the friends who inspire and support me, read my early drafts, bounce ideas, hold my hand, and share the highs and the lows, I thank you: Michelle Rowen (whose sage advice started the ball rolling), Nancy Frost, Ann Christopher, Kristi Cook, Lori Devoti, Laura Drewry, Caroline Linden, Sally MacKenzie.
    To Lamia A. for a wonderful critique of the early chapters of this story, and for finding the too-adult language in my teen dialogue.
    To Aida Aganagic, who loves me enough to walk my dogs with me every day, thus forcing me to actually step away from the computer and get dressed.
    To all those in my family who never stopped believing in me and helped me every way they could.
    To Henning, for everything, including loading up the kayaks so I can paddle under the endless blue sky, clear my mind completely, and dream up new scenes. To Sheridan and Dylan, for making me laugh, bringing joy and light to every day, and pointing out the flaws in my fight scenes.
    And a special thank-you to my readers for opening the door and inviting my stories in.



CREDITS
    Cover art © 2013 by Justin Maller
    Photo of girl © 2013 Gustavo Marx/MergeLeft Reps, Inc.
    Photo of boy © photosearch.com
    Cover design by Joel Tippie

COPYRIGHT
    Katherine Tegen Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
    R USH: THE GAME BOOK ONE . Copyright © 2013 by Eve Silver. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or