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in his throat, tears streaming from his eyes as the drugs continued to play havoc with his emotions.
    “Your son was sold into sexual slavery. He killed himself one year later. No one knows what happened to your infant daughter…Is that her? Calla? How did you get her back?”
    It took forever for Egan to speak, and when he did, he neglected the question.
    “I’ve hated you for so long,” he said. “I’ve wished you dead for so long that it had become as automatic as a daily prayer.”
    Egan fell silent while Jonah struggled to maintain eye contact, but more often than not, found himself staring at the ground.
    “I wanted to find you and kill you. What I finally chose instead, with the help of Father,” he gestured toward the dwarf standing to his right, “was to focus on the life we had together, before you conspired to take it away. Father helped me see that blaming you would never bring them back. And so I went, going about my life, almost forgetting you. But then, imagine my surprise when fate conspired to bring you here! Oh, what poetic justice, indeed, that you would be framed for your wife’s murder. That you’d be outcast! That you’d be put into The Games, and win them no less! And then you wind up here, as if God Himself hand delivered you to me.”
    Egan laughed, though the cackle sounded forced enough to be brittle. The swirling rush of drugs, thick inside Jonah’s blood, forced a ragged laugh from his mouth.
    Egan met Jonah’s eyes, holding his stare.
    Jonah suddenly longed to hear Egan condemn him further. He deserved everything he got. He wanted to hear how awful he was and how he deserved every horrible thing that had happened. He was ready for whatever punishment the man thought he deserved.
    It was time to pay for his sins.
    Jonah was ready.
    Deep inside Jonah knew it was true. Every word of it.
    Egan stood up, set a hand on Father’s shoulder, then left the room without saying a word, leaving Jonah alone with the dwarf.
    Father stood before Jonah, arms still crossed across his chest, saying nothing as Jonah wallowed in his guilt and misery.
    Egan returned a few minutes later, carrying an orb in his right palm. “Look familiar?” he said, returning to his seat across from Jonah. “It doesn’t fly or record any more, I saw to that. But what it does do, it does wonderfully.”
    Dread slivered down Jonah’s spine.
    He wondered how they would use the orb to torture him. Egan cracked a panel on the orb’s back, then flicked a switch inside the robot. Moments later, its screen lit like a parade, showing the familiar, always-on feed of The Darwin Games.
    The display showed a green nighttime image of a young girl with long dark hair, crouching low behind a tree as a group of zombies ambled by in the midnight black.
    “Why are you showing me this?” Jonah asked, confused.
    “Patience,” Egan said, smiling for the first time. “Just watch.”
    Jonah waited another minute, wondering what the hell could be so important that Egan had to show him. Suddenly, the scene on the screen changed, showing him what Egan wanted him to see — his daughter, in The Games, racing along a bridge.
    Jonah screamed, then bucked and shook, trying to tear himself from the chair and its bindings.
    “What the fuck!” he screamed. “Why is she in The Games?”
    “They said she was with the Underground,” Egan shrugged. “Isn’t that… interesting ?”
    Jonah stared at the screen, his mouth wide open as Ana hopped on top of a kid and began to bash his skull in. Jonah was equally horrified and relieved as Ana screamed, slapped her hand on the button, then took the elevator to the forest above.
    Egan raised his eyebrows.
    “Congratulations,” he said. “Looks like the apple doesn’t fall far from the rotten tree.”

CHAPTER 15 — Liam Harrow
    L iam finally arrived at the end of the Fire Wall and was about to double back on the other side to search for Ana. Then one of the network orbs hovered down directly next to him.
    He turned, wondering what the orb’s screen was going to show him. As the orb took a moment to do anything other than hover, a sense of dread began to fill him, certain he was going to be shown a recording of Ana being slaughtered.
    The screen flickered on, and Liam swallowed, preparing for the worst.
    Kirkman’s face filled the screen. “Well, well, well, it’s Underground Scum, Liam Harrow.”
    Liam kept his tongue in check, waiting to see what Kirkman would say