First published in ebook in Great Britain by HarperCollins Childrenâs Books 2016
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Endgame: The Zero Line Chronicles: Reap © 2016 by Third Floor Fun, LLC
Cover design and logo by Rodrigo Corral Design
Additional logo and icon design by John Dismukes
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Source ISBN: 9780062332721
Ebook Edition © 2016 ISBN: 9780007585304
Version: 2016-05-11
âItâs time,â I said to Kat.
We double-checked our guns, made sure they were loaded, flicked off the safeties, and headed down the hall. We stopped at room 412. It was five in the morning.
Ready? Kat mouthed.
I nodded.
I knocked on the door.
This was itâwhat we had been preparing for all summer. Weâjust Kat and Iâwere knocking on the door of a Player. Raakel, the Minoan. Last week, Kat and I had planted a bomb next to her house in Istanbul, âinvitingâ her to come to Zero lineâs fake Calling. We thought she might have died in the explosionâthe bomb was supposed to imitate a sign from the heavens, a message from the alien Makers.
And now we were supposed to reason with her, with this Player who was trained to be a killing machine. Thatâs what a Calling was meant to be: the starting point of a bloodbath in which twelve killing machines, representatives of their civilizations, would each try to be the last one standing in a global fight that would decide the fate of the world.
And we needed to stop it.
My M1911 pistol was tucked into the back of my pants, covered by a long Munich Olympics T-shirt. Kat was carrying a Beretta in the front pocket of her sweatshirt. I had my backpack for our walkie-talkie and a few other supplies we might need.
There was the sound of the deadbolt being unlocked, and I tensed up, wishing my gun were in my hand. But no. We were here to talk to her, not to kill her.
Kat and I already had blood on our hands, and we didnât want more. The door opened.
Raakel stood there, fully dressed in a pair of jeans and a loose blouse. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. There was a smirk on her face. Despite the early hour, she looked fully awake and ready for the Calling.
âI was wondering when you would show up,â she said with very little accent. âYou followed me with all the stealth of stampeding bulls.
Youâre staying in a house with sixteen or seventeen others?â
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. We were supposed to be surprising her, not the other way around.
âWeâre here to talk to you,â Kat said.
âHow do you know who I am?â Raakel asked. âFor that matter, who do you think I am?â
Kat answered. âYouâre the Player for the Minoans.â
âHow do you know this?â she asked. âWhat line are you from?â
âZero line,â I said, finally getting my voice back. âWe have important things to talk to you about.â
âThere is no such line.â She opened the door an inch or two wider, just enough to let us pass. With her eyes trained carefully on us the whole time, she motioned us into her room. I caught a flash of metal at her side, and I realized she was carrying a blade that looked like a sword of some kind. My pulse was pounding so loud I was sure she could hear it.
âConsider us a group of concerned citizens,â Kat said. I noticed the shake in her voice, and I wondered if Raakel could tell how nervous we were.
Raakel laughed as she closed the door. I walked to the table in the corner of the room, and when we sat, I got a better look at the weapon she was holding: a long, skinny machete. My heart jumped into my throat at the look of the sword.
âOh, this?â she said with a cold smile, sitting on the foot of the bed and laying the sword across her lap. âItâs called a yataÄan. I assume youâre both armed. I wanted to even things out. Now: talk.â
Kat and I gave each other a look. Her tanned face was pale, or maybe it was just an effect of the lamplight. She was scared. I wondered if she could see the same fear on me.
I turned to Raakel. âWeâre here to tell you to give this up. Our group is talking to all twelve lines this morning. We want you to ignore the Calling, and to stop Playing.â