Flash.
For a single instant, the sky lit up. The light caught something tumbling over the railing of the pool deck. Arms and legs and—oh god.
Her camera slipped from her hands. The world seemed to stop as Sydney watched the body plummet through the air. She heard it hit the water with a sickening splash. She was moving before she could fully process what had happened, grabbing her flashlight and sprinting off the boat and down the pier.
Was it the darer?
No. The darer didn’t lose, didn’t make mistakes. Which could mean only one thing: It was another victim.
Panic clutched at Sydney’s chest. If this was retribution… If someone else had died because of the threat they’d sent the darer…
Tenley and Emerson must have seen the fall, too, because Sydney heard them running behind her, their footsteps breaking open the silence. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore, not their plan, not the photo. All that mattered was getting to the victim. Could someone survive that fall?
Sydney reached the shore at the end of the pier first. She scrambled to turn on her flashlight, shining its thin beam over the ocean. Body parts caught the light as they tossed on the waves. A leg. An arm. A flash of long blond hair. It was a girl. “We need to get her out!” she heard Tenley scream.
Instinct took over as Sydney dropped the flashlight and launched herself into the ocean. She gasped as the cold water stabbed at her. Her limbs screamed in resistance, but she ordered them to move, kicking and paddling toward the body. Please don’t be dead. The thought crashed into her with each wave, again and again.
Two splashes sounded behind her. She could hear Tenley and Emerson in the water now, but she kept her eyes locked on the body. The girl was bobbing facedown, her hair floating in a halo around her.
Paddle. Kick. Please don’t be dead. Paddle. Kick. Please don’t be dead.
“Who is it?” Tenley screamed. Sydney shook her head soundlessly. It was too dark to tell. The darkness made everything seem mercurial, as if at any moment she could blink and this would all disappear.
Another stroke and Sydney was at the girl’s side. She hooked her arm around the body, but the girl was slippery and heavy—soaked with water—and when a wave hit, she couldn’t hold on. Sydney paddled desperately, trying to stay afloat. “I need help!” She tried again, but a fresh wave hit, pulling her under instead.
She came up gasping for air. Emerson was there, wrapping her arms around the body. “Let’s get her to shore.” Tenley reached them, too, and together they towed the body to the sandy beach at the end of the pier.
“On three!” Tenley said. “One, two—”
Together, they crawled onto shore, dragging the girl’s body with them. Sydney’s teeth were chattering violently, but all she could focus on was the girl. “Is she—?” Tenley began.
She stopped short.
The girl was on her back, blond hair splayed around her. Except she wasn’t a girl at all.
Sydney collapsed onto her knees next to the body. A red clown nose and black beady eyes stared up at her. “A doll,” she choked out. “It’s a clown doll.” Scrawled across the clown’s face in thick red marker was a message.
This is no joke.
Sydney couldn’t breathe. Once again their tormentor had bested them. He or she had been there—had fooled them—and then had vanished again without a trace.
Unless…
Her camera. She raced down to the pier, panting as she snatched her camera off the boat. She jabbed at the screen. There it was: the photo that had lit up the night. The pool deck was too tiny to make out any details. She zoomed in, and then zoomed in again. A doll came into focus, hoisted on top of the deck’s railing. Behind it, a shadowy figure ducked low.
She zoomed in again and again, as close as the camera would let her. But the figure on the deck remained nothing more than a dark outline, impossible even to tell if it was male or female.
Buzz!
The noise made Sydney jump. It was coming from the boat. From inside her purse.
Buzz!
There it was again, this time from behind her. Emerson joined her on the pier, then Tenley. They were both holding their phones.
Buzz! Buzz!
“How?” Emerson whispered. “We have new cells, new numbers!”
No one replied. Terror became a noose as, with a single click, the text message popped up on Sydney’s phone.
Mutiny leads to war—and I fight dirty.
CHAPTER TWO
Monday, 7:50 AM
Tenley ignored the ache in her leg as she sprinted toward Winslow’s red double doors. She’d overslept, and now she was ten minutes late to school. Which would look just great alongside the math test she’d recently bombed and the classes she’d recently skipped. For a while the “my best friend died” excuse had allowed these things to slide, but she could tell it was starting to wear thin. What was she supposed to tell the attendance office today? Sorry I’m late, but I was awake half the night thanks to a clown doll haunting my dreams.
Tenley felt sick at the memory of what had happened last night. At first, she’d been sure it was a person—another casualty in this cruel game. As she’d watched the body fall, the possibilities of who it could be had curled around her like smog, until she was choking on them. Mom. Marta. Tim. But the whole thing was just a sick joke, the darer’s way of showing them that they weren’t in control.
Mutiny leads to war—and I fight dirty.
The darer had already tried to kill Tenley twice—in her hot tub and on the catwalk in the auditorium. What was dirtier than that?
She was halfway to her locker when two large hands grabbed her from behind. The scream that slipped out of her was so high-pitched it sounded like it belonged to a little girl.
“Whoa there.” The voice was low and lazy. And familiar. Tenley spun around to find Tim Holland staring down at her, an amused look in his dark blue eyes. “You being chased?”
Tenley tried to speak, but her voice was trapped somewhere beneath her still-pounding heart. She forced herself to focus on Tim: his messy, damp blond waves; his beat-up hemp necklace that he never took off; his calm, easy smile. “I overslept,” she managed, finally.
“I oversurfed. It happens.” Tim pushed a strand of hair off her cheek, and Tenley had to fight the urge to bury her head in his chest and not lift it again until Christmas. “Did you get my messages, Tenley? I’ve called you, like, ten times since you disappeared on me Saturday night.”
Tenley tried not to wince. Tim had shown up at the homecoming dance Saturday night just for her. They’d kissed, and it had been amazing. But then everything had spiraled out of control and she hadn’t spoken to him for the rest of the weekend. “I got a new phone number yesterday. I’m sorry. I meant to call and tell you, but it was a pretty rough day.”
“Delancey, I know. The whole town’s been talking about it.” Tim entwined his fingers through hers. “How are you doing?”
Tenley sighed. “Honestly, I’m just trying really hard not to think about it.”
“Maybe I can help with that.” Tim pulled her into a hug. She closed her eyes, letting herself melt against him. His arms were strong and warm, and he smelled faintly of the ocean. She could feel the muscles in her neck unclenching, just a little.
“Miss Reed and Mr. Holland!”
Tenley drew away from Tim with a start. Mr. Lozano, the art teacher, crossed his arms against his chest as he strode toward them. “May I ask why you two are not at the assembly?”
Tim fiddled with the tangled mess of string bracelets tied around his wrist. “Assembly?”
“The suicide-prevention assembly that was announced just before homeroom?” Mr. Lozano arched an eyebrow. “It’s mandatory.”
“Oh that assembly,” Tenley backtracked. “We’re on our way right now. Tim was just helping me out.” She gestured down to her left leg, which was thicker than her right thanks to the bandage underneath her jeans. “I hurt my leg, so I’m moving more slowly.”
“Oh.” Mr. Lozano nodded, looking placated. “Take your time, then.”
Tenley gave the art teacher her sweetest smile before limping off toward the auditorium. “Impressive,” Tim murmured as he made a big show of assisting her. “I should keep you around to get me out of detentions.”
Normally, Tenley would have been quick with a retort. You should keep me around for more than that. But her thoughts were stuck at a standstill on the assembly. Suicide prevention.
Everyone in town, cops included, believed Delancey’s death was a suicide. Besides the darer, only Tenley, Sydney, and Emerson knew the truth. Their tormentor had hunted Delancey, torturing and toying with her before going in for the kill.
Tenley’s eyes went immediately to the front of the room as she and Tim entered the auditorium. The same person had tried to kill her on that very stage. In the two days since, the stage had been mended and scrubbed clean. If it weren’t for a few cracked planks on the catwalk above, you’d never know anything had happened.
“Looks like your fan club saved you a seat.” Tim nodded toward the back of the auditorium, where Emerson and Sydney were waving her over. Between Sydney’s rat nest of a ponytail and Emerson’s unusually drab outfit, they looked as terrible as Tenley felt.