“Read it,” Sally said. “I’m goin’ to look for the rat who left it.” He left the room, marching like he was going off to war.

Tick shot a glance at Paul and Sofia, then read the note to them. “‘You people must think I’m an idiot. But I know everything. Everything. The sooner you accept that, the better. The game is on. Win or die.’” Tick paused, swallowed. “‘Sincerely, Reginald Chu.’”

No one said a word for the longest time. Finally, Sofia spoke: “Looks like you were right, Paul.”

Win or die, Tick thought. Win or die.

~

The sounds grew louder—and more haunting—as Sato made his way down the long tunnel. A man screaming as if going through a horrible surgery without anesthetic. People arguing, their words impossible to make out. Someone crying. Lots of people crying. Mumbling, moaning, retching. Sato couldn’t imagine anything worse than being in this place.

The roughly carved walls of the tunnel were dark and shiny, wet with rivulets and flat streams of water sluicing down its sides, disappearing into cracks on the floor. Odd lamps were set into the stone about every thirty feet, filthy glass surrounding a milky light that seemed a mix of old-fashioned wicks and electric sparks. Sato fully expected to see rats scurrying about, but thus far had seen no sign of life.

Just the sounds. The terrible, terrible sounds.

Up ahead, the tunnel made a turn to the right, a somewhat brighter light glowing from that direction. Huddled on the floor was a woman, her face draped in shadow, clutching her legs to her chest, shivering and mumbling the same phrase over and over. Sato couldn’t quite make out the words.

His heart pounded as he walked toward the woman, sweat making the syringe clasped in his right hand slippery; he hid it behind his back. Was she infected? Could it be this easy? He stopped a few feet in front of her, thinking about each breath, trying to slow his heart down.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice breaking on the second word. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I’m looking for someone.”

The woman looked up; Sato took a step backward. He didn’t know what he’d expected to see—someone hideous, scarred, a wart-infested witch, maybe—but the lady sitting in front of him was very pretty. She had perfect skin, and blue eyes that shone like crystals in the pale light. Her dark hair sprawled across her shoulders. White teeth flashed behind her still-moving lips, uttering the indecipherable words repeatedly.

Despite her pleasant looks, she looked sad, tear streaks lining both cheeks.

“Can you help me?” Sato said, fingering the syringe hidden from her sight. He took a step closer.

The woman finally fell silent, pressing her lips together. Then she spoke, her voice soft but firm. “We’re only crazy when he’s not in our heads.”