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Chapters (57)
  1. Welcome to the Game
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraphs
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. Six months later . . .
  56. Acknowledgments
  57. Back Cover

Johnny Boy waited a moment before trying to bring things back on track. “Tell me about the Blue Whale Challenge, Melvin.”

“Sure.” As Melvin lovingly placed the big figurine aside and fired up the Beast, Johnny Boy listened to the silence of the house. He listened for anything that might hint they weren’t really alone. He’d made it very clear to Melvin that Mr. Pace required privacy and discretion, and Melvin liked that cloak-and-dagger, secret mission kind of bullshit. As for Johnny Boy, he liked to be careful and thorough.

Abby was upset about not going to school the next day, Chris was upset about Abby being upset, and Spencer was scared shitless about still being at the apartment. He contemplated telling them the stakes but held back; this chapter of his life was about to close and then everything would be alright. He was going to be that father, that successful salesman, that more appreciative friend, but not here. Anywhere but here. Milt had been so right; people need to move away after a tragedy. Not even far. Just down the road could be far enough.

“Why does it all have to go in Chris’s car?” asked Abby.

“I told you, we have to take my car back. My car was a company car.”

Eventually the wagon train was ready to roll. Abby wasn’t happy squished in the back with a ton of stuff. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t ride shotgun with Chris, at least until her dad jumped in. She didn’t know that was because Spencer would be doing precisely that—jumping in. Because the moment they ditched the Subaru, they really were going to be on the run.

33

33

Sweeping the Trail

The Yo-Yo felt the Ducati lighten on its suspension as it crested a gentle summit. He’d dropped the throttle right off because there was a sharp bend coming up. He’d gotten to know this piece of road in this quiet part of Detroit real well.

Suddenly he stopped, right in the middle of the road. His prey was heading this way. He needed to be ready.

“So here’s the deal on the Blue Whale Challenge, Mister Pace. You got some kid who doesn’t feel loved or valued, blah blah. They go online and see shit that kind of depresses them and—”

“Show me,” interrupted Johnny Boy.

“Huh?”

“Show me the kind of thing they’d look at.”

He watched patiently as Melvin whizzed around the darker places of the web: sites set up in Russia and Ukraine and copied by twisted cyberpredators around the world. Windows popped up bearing images of death, loss, and longing. Then there were other themes, more ambiguous in their darkness. These were the cults: The Slenderman and his haunting peers.

“So you’ve got your super-sad schoolgirl, Mister Pace, and—”

“Keep those tabs open. I might want to check them out again.”