Kiss and Tell(27)

“Come on,” she said fiercely, pushing away the memory of being trapped in Matt’s closet. The smoke had crept into her lungs, racking her body with coughs as she screamed for help. If Emerson hadn’t heard her… She refused to complete that train of thought.

Outside, the air had taken on that pure, crisp scent that always preceded a big storm. The street was eerily quiet. Most of the homes were summer rentals, abandoned until warmer months. They stopped in front of a small, beat-up house. The windows were dark, the furniture on the porch covered in plastic. “A rental,” Tenley breathed. “We’re in luck.” They hurried into the backyard. There, hidden from the street, was the purple-doored shed.

Emerson removed Delancey’s key from her pocket. Tenley dug her nails into her jeans as she waited for Emerson to insert it into the lock. With a soft click, the door to the shed opened.

“It worked,” Emerson said wonderingly.

Right away, Tenley could hear it. A soft, steady whirring. Emerson stepped inside first. Fear grasped at Tenley, but she refused to give it a stronghold. She stepped into the shed and shut the door behind her.

It was a square, windowless space, filled with computers. They were packed densely together on two long tables, leaving only a thin aisle of walking space between them, just large enough for a single metal stool. They whirred softly in unison, making the room feel as if it were breathing. Screen savers of Echo Bay vistas flashed on their screens.

Tenley’s gaze traveled to the walls. All four of them were plastered with photos. She let out a cry as her eyes darted from one section to the next. There were photos of her, of Emerson, of Sydney and Caitlin and Tricia and Delancey. Tacked up with the photos were notes—notes typed on a typewriter.

On the back wall hung a list of their names. A thick red marker had been used to cross off Caitlin, Tricia, and Delancey.

Tenley clutched her stomach. She felt like she might heave at any second. “It’s the darer’s headquarters.” She squeezed her way over to the wall that featured pictures of her. There she was with Caitlin. With Tim. In her bedroom. Photo after photo, taken when she wasn’t looking. An icy chill spread through her. In the middle of the photos, two typewritten notes had been tacked up. The first held a single word, typed in all caps. IMPLANTS.

Bile rose in Tenley’s throat. It was the secret the darer had tortured her with when the game first started. That secret had blackmailed Tenley into doing everything the darer wanted. Fury sparked inside her as she turned to the other note. This one included three words. The only witness.

“What does that mean?” Tenley muttered. She looked over at Emerson, who was studying her own photo shrine. Two typewritten notes hung among her photos as well. Tenley moved closer to read them.

AFFAIR, read the first one. Like Tenley’s implants, it was the secret the darer had lorded over Emerson. Her second note was just as curious. Just like her.

Tenley moved on to Caitlin’s section. Photos of her friend assaulted her. She bit down on her lip, refusing to cry. There were notes here as well. PILLS, and Replaced her. Nearby was Sydney’s section. Her notes said PYRO and Spawn.

Delancey’s followed the same pattern. NUDE PHOTOS, the first note read. Tenley furrowed her brow. Why did Delancey, Purity Club cofounder herself, have nude photos? Tenley shook her head. She’d never know now, and the truth was, it didn’t matter. The point was that Delancey, like everyone, had a secret, and the darer had used it to pull her strings—turn her into a puppet. She forced herself to concentrate on Delancey’s second note. Found out about Tricia.

“Of course,” Tenley murmured. She raced over to Tricia’s section. Her first note—her secret—said: BULIMIC. Her second read: Insecure—easy target.

“These second notes, they’re the reasons.” Tenley looked over at Emerson. Her friend’s sickly green coloring told her she’d figured out the same thing.

“They’re why the darer chose us all,” Emerson breathed.

Tenley looked back at her shrine. The only witness. “The only witness to what?”

Emerson shook her head, her eyes on her own note. Just like her. “Who am I just like?”

“Maybe one of the Lost Girls? It would make sense if this really is all connected.…” Tenley trailed off. Her eyes were glued to a small desk in the corner of the shed. Its desktop was empty, but for the first time she saw something sticking out from underneath it. She moved toward it as if in a dream.

Boxy and black. Old and shiny. A typewriter.

“Em, are you seeing—?”

“Oh my god.” Emerson’s gasp cut Tenley off. But when Tenley spun around, Emerson wasn’t looking at the typewriter. She was looking at one of the computers. The screen saver was gone, and in its place was a video image of a bedroom. Tenley’s bedroom. “There’s a hidden camera in your bedroom!” Emerson cried.

Tenley moved woodenly to a second computer. The screen saver vanished, replaced by a video of Emerson’s bedroom. “Yours too.” She moved to the next computer. “And here’s Sydney’s car. And her apartment.”

They went through the rest of the computers in a daze. There was surveillance everywhere: in half the rooms in their houses, in Tenley’s pool house and gazebo, inside each of their cars, in the Winslow cafeteria and auditorium, inside Pat-a-Pancake and the Crooked Cat Diner and Dr. Filstone’s office, outside on Art Walk, even in the Echo Bay police station. “This is why it’s felt like there are eyes everywhere,” Tenley whispered.

“It’s because there are.”

Tenley fought the urge to scream. How many times had the darer been watching when she thought she was alone? It made her feel as if someone had ripped open her chest and left her standing exposed, heart bloodred and pumping for all to see.

“This is it.” Emerson’s voice drew Tenley back to the present. “This is our lead. Finally. Think of all the data stored on computers. Technology always leaves a trail somewhere, right? We should call the police right now. Get them to come down here. There has to be an answer on one of these computers.”

Emerson was still talking, the words tumbling frantically out, but Tenley had stopped listening. Her eyes were on the line of computers instead. The screens had gone black. All at once, an identical message flashed on each of them. “Em,” Tenley whispered. She pointed soundlessly to the message.

FILES TRANSFERRED TO BACKUP SERVER. MEMORY WIPE COMPLETE.

“No!” It was more cry than word. Emerson launched herself at the computer, desperately shaking the mouse. The screen remained black.

Tenley stood immobilized as Emerson rushed uselessly from computer to computer. A realization was dawning on her slowly, like an old lightbulb flickering on. “We have to get out of here,” she breathed. Emerson looked up, tears shining in her hazel eyes. “This must be some kind of security measure. Which means the darer knows we’re here.”

“We need proof. Something!” Emerson whirled around, her expression wild. She began taking photos of the walls with her phone, one after another, the clicking sound echoing through the silent shed.

The silent shed. It took Tenley a second to process it. The computers had stopped whirring.

“Now,” Tenley hissed.

Emerson froze. From the way her eyes widened, Tenley could tell she, too, had registered the silence.

They both broke into a run. The wind lifted goose bumps on Tenley’s neck as they raced back to the car. Tenley had just locked the doors and started the ignition when her phone let out a shrill ring. She slammed down on the gas pedal, speeding away from the shed. The phone rang on.

Time seemed to slow as Emerson fumbled through Tenley’s bag. Finally, she extracted the ringing phone. “Unknown number,” she whispered.

Tenley’s heart banged loudly against her ribs. “Answer on speakerphone.”

She took a sharp left as Emerson jabbed at the phone. “Hello?” Emerson answered.

The speakerphone crackled silently in response.

“Who is this?” Tenley shouted.

“It’s me.” There was another crackle, then Sydney’s voice blasted through the speakerphone. Tenley’s breath came out in a long whoosh. “I’m calling from my home phone,” Sydney continued. “The cops have my cell—it’s a long story. Are you guys okay? Are you out of the hospital?”

“We’re fine,” Emerson said hurriedly. “Out of the hospital. But you won’t believe where we just were.”

“You won’t believe what I just saw!” Sydney cut in. “The ghost lights went off. I used my camera to get a good look at the cliff, and I saw someone up there. It was Sam Bauer.”

“Calum’s dad?” In Tenley’s surprise, she jerked the wheel, making the car skid across the road. She quickly straightened it out, her pulse racing.

“He must be the darer,” Sydney continued. “Think about it. He definitely has the resources. Not just the money, which obviously he has plenty of, but he’s also a tech genius. He’s consulted for the government! I called Calum after I saw his dad, to try to poke around a little, and he told me he was at a techie awards ceremony, waiting for the guest of honor to show up: his dad. If anyone could set up surveillance to stalk us, it would be Sam Bauer.”