I dropped my phone into my purse and headed back to emergency. The green-haired kid got a couple feet from me and staggered a little, bumping against me. He picked his head up, looked me in the eye, and raised a gun level with my nose.

“Turn and walk,” he said, “I’m really good with this gun. I’ll shoot you dead if you make a single false move.”

Usually there were people hanging out around emergency, but the rain had driven everyone inside. The street was deserted. Not even car traffic. “Is this about money?” I asked him. “Just take my bag.”

“Hah, you wish, sweetie pie. This is The Game and I’m the winner. Just me and the Web Master left. I get to go on to the next game after I do you.”

I turned and gaped at him.

“What?” he asked. “You didn’t know it was me? You didn’t think the hunter had green hair?”

“Who are you?”

He jumped and slashed at the air. “I’m the Fisher Cat.”

I’d never heard of a fisher cat. I was pretty sure we didn’t have any in Trenton. “Is that a real animal or did you make it up?”

“It’s a member of the weasel family. It moves along real quiet. You hardly know it’s around. It’s real sneaky. And it’s ferocious.”

“Have you ever seen one?”

“Well, no, not exactly. You know, like, in a book.”

“If I was going to name myself after an animal I’d want to see it first.”

“That’s because you have no imagination. Gamers have imagination. We create stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“The Game, stupid. And then we transcend the game. The game becomes the reality. Is that total whack, or what?”

“Yeah, total whack.” It had been a long day with a lot of adrenaline expended. For that matter, it had been a long week that had brought a lot of terror and death. This kid was right about one thing. I hadn’t expected the bearer of that terror and death to have green hair and a tongue stud. “So this is a game,” I said. “With a Web Master?”

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“Did you pull wings off butterflies when you were a kid?”

“No. I was a total wimp kid. I was a wimp until I found the Web Master and got into The Game.”

“Are there rules to The Game or do you just go around randomly killing people?”

“The Web Master runs The Game. He’s the one who decides who can play. Not everyone gets to play, you know. There are always five players and a prize. This time you’re the prize. I know you’ve been getting messages from the Web Master. That’s part of his job. He’s the one who keeps the rabbit running while the players are in the elimination stage. This is my second game. The first game was a couple years ago. I was last man standing on that one, too. I got to hunt a cop that time.”