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Back Gone Save as PDF
Chapters (77)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. Acknowledgements
  75. Reading Group Questions
  76. Read More
  77. I

‘I need coffee for this,’ said Jameson, and left the room.

What was motivating this invite? There must be a reason for it. Clive Llewellyn had been sent home, presumably because he’d passed the challenges. He was successful, self-controlled and perfectly immersed in the real world. Not even his daughter suspected anything. Perhaps the game searched for psychopathic personalities who knew how to hide? But then what? What were they being asked to do?

Bloom thought about the key motivators for those with a high degree of psychopathy: excitement, self-aggrandisement and manipulating others for personal gain. On a grander scale, what would that mean? How might that convert to a collective goal? She reached for her jumper and typed one more message before heading downstairs to join Jameson.

Bloom

Why would we play? What would we gain? How can we compete when we don’t have the basic characteristics required?

5:26pm

In the kitchen, Jameson was dressed and pouring coffee into two mugs. He’d turned on the main light, flooding the space bright white. Bloom turned it off again and switched on the wall lights instead, which shone a soft yellow.

‘Coffee OK?’ Jameson said.

‘Yes, please.’ She sat at the table and took the mug. Jameson pushed the milk her way and she shook her head.

‘I saw your last message. Was that the best idea?’ He sat opposite her. ‘I thought we wanted to play. That’s why I did all that reading, isn’t it?’

‘That was when we wanted to insert you as a stooge. They won’t be inviting us to play for real.’

‘So what do you think they’re up to?’ He checked his phone. He smiled and typed a response.

‘What does it say?’

‘It’s Sarah. A message I missed last night.’

Bloom sipped the coffee. ‘You like her, don’t you?’

‘She’s not bad.’ Jameson’s smile gave him away. ‘What?’ he said.

‘Nothing, Marcus. Nothing at all.’ She wished she was as good as Claire at winding him up. This felt like a prime opportunity.

He shook his head. ‘What are they up to then?’

‘Why us? What do we gain?’

‘Jane. That’s what we stand to gain. We need to cut a deal. Get them to let her go.’

‘Easier said than done.’

‘But that’s what we want. I couldn’t give a … whatever, about Lana or Stuart or that kid in Sheffield.’

‘Grayson.’

‘Let them play. I couldn’t care less what they’re doing. It’s not our problem and we can’t fight them or stop them on our own.’ He ran his hands through his hair. ‘But we can get Jane.’

‘I know.’

‘But we’ll have to play.’