Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Mila and I chat as I make my way around the villa, getting everything set up. Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting at the kitchen counter with my laptop, looking over the system I just set up and checking it for blind spots.
“What do you think?” I ask Mila as she looks over the live feed.
“Couldn’t have done it better myself,” she says as I listen to the familiar sound of her fingers flying across her keyboard. “There. I’ve linked it to your phone as well. So as long as you have a decent signal, you should be able to bring it up anywhere.”
“Perfect,” I say, grabbing my phone and refreshing the screen to see the system staring right back at me. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Mills.”
“Iammorethanawareofthat,” she says in a yawn, her words jumbling together. “Just do me a favor and don’t die, because if you do, I’m going to be really fucking pissed, okay?”
“Promise, I won’t die.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Okay, fine. I promise that I will try my hardest not to die.”
“Good. In that case, I’m out. I’ll talk to your bitch ass tomorrow,” she tells me. “Try to get some sleep, then in the morning, we can start hunting these assholes.”
Excitement drums through my veins as the idea of really getting to start the hunt truly sinks in. I feel as though I’ve been waiting a lifetime for this, and now that it’s finally here, I can barely keep myself contained. “It’s like music to my ears,” I tell my best friend. “You try and get some sleep too, okay? Because we both know that you’re going to lie down in your bed and close your eyes for all of three seconds before reaching for your phone again. Reaper and 343 can wait until tomorrow. They aren’t coming for me tonight.”
Mila scoffs, and I hear the smile in her tone. “Yeah, yeah,” she says. “I’m hanging up now.”
A laugh bubbles up my throat, and before I can say another word, my best friend is gone, leaving me alone to figure out my game plan for the next thirty days. Only problem with a competition like this is that my game plan needs to constantly evolve. This game can change by the minute, and though I need to be prepared, I don’t need to be prepared until tomorrow.
For now, all that matters is closing my eyes and dreaming about all the fun I won’t be having with Reaper.
5
SIREN
It’s officially night two of War Games, and I’ve never been so ready to cause havoc. I fly through the moonlit streets, handling my car like the complete wreck that I am. I can’t lie, while I’m more than happy to scream from the rooftops that I’m the best career killer out there—apart from Reaper, of course—I’m not too egotistical to not acknowledge my weaknesses. And driving just happens to be at the very top of that list.
I fucking suck. There’s no other way to put it. Mila and I taught ourselves how to drive, and while we’re more than capable of making it from point A to point B unscathed, it’s never pretty. The state of my car is embarrassing, but it’s fine. When it starts looking like it’s been involved in a head-on collision with a freight train, I simply dump it and steal another. It’s a great little routine I have.
My laptop slides across the leather passenger seat with every reckless corner I take, fighting for its life as I clutch a burrito in my free hand. I quickly glance toward the screen as it teeters on the seat’s edge, following the pinned location of The Boston Maneater as he makes his way through the industrial park of Blue Springs.
This shit is too easy.
Despite my stern demand that Mila actually get some sleep, she stayed up until the early hours of this morning researching Reaper, and neither of us was surprised to find that she came up blank. So while she crashed, I tried my hand at the basic hacking skills she’s taught me over the years, and after three hours and four coffees, I found The Boston Maneater.
He has a name that draws attention so finding information about him online wasn’t hard. All his kills have been in a thirty-mile radius of Boston, Massachusetts, and after seeing his face last night, I’d put him in his late thirties. From there, it was simple. All I had to do was hack into every high school system in Boston and search the graduating classes from 2005 to 2008 until I found his face. And yeah, it was easy, but fuck, it took forever.
I was about ready to give up when I found him. And not only that, but I found his real identity. Nicholas Barrington.