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Authors: James Dashner
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late for a party. But no one else was in the room.
“Um, what just happened?” Michael asked. Seeing his friends made him feel better, despite the fact that he’d sunk through the floor.
“Something pulled us in here is what happened,” Bryson answered. “Which means we probably didn’t get into the club quite as stealthily as we thought.”
“Hello?” Sarah called out. “Who brought us here?”
A door in the back swung open, spilling a fan of light across the floor. A woman walked in, and the only word Michael could think of to describe her was
whoa
. Not beautiful, not sexy, not old or young or anything else. He found it impossible to guess her age or even say if she was ugly or pretty. But her elegant black dress, her gray hair, her wise face, everything about her screamed authority.
Michael prayed that Bryson wouldn’t say something stupid.
“Have a seat,” the woman said as she walked toward them. “I have to say I’m impressed with your little trick outside, though the two idiots who fell for it have already been fired.” She sat down in a plush leather chair and crossed her legs. “I told you to take a seat.”
Michael realized that all three of them had been staring at her with their mouths slightly open. Embarrassed, he quickly made his way to the couch on her right and sat down just as Bryson and Sarah took the one on the left.
“I assume you know who I am,” she said. Michael couldn’t tell if the lady was angry or upset. He’d never heard such indifference in a voice before.
“Ronika,” Sarah replied in a reverent whisper.
“Yes, my name is Ronika.” She turned her cold gaze on each of them in turn, and Michael was mesmerized. “You’re sitting in this room for only one reason: I’m curious. Your age and background give me no clue as to why you might be here. Judging by the time you spent stumbling around upstairs, it wasn’t to dance.”
“How did you…” Michael stopped himself before asking the dumbest question of his life. Of course this lady knew how to find their information. Her hacking skills were probably ten times his own. You didn’t become a club owner—much less the owner of the Black and Blue—without talent and loads of money.
She merely raised her eyebrows at him, which was answer enough. She continued.
“I want to make this clear: the Black and Blue didn’t get its reputation in the VirtNet by chance. People who’ve tried what you did today have ended up in places ranging from hospitals to mental wards. Answer my questions. Be up-front and you’ll be fine. But be warned—I despise sarcasm.”
Michael exchanged a look with Sarah. She’d been the one to get them inside; he knew that now it was his turn. It seemed like Bryson always got off easy.
“Why are you here?” Ronika asked.
Michael cleared his throat and swore to himself that he wouldn’t let the lady see how badly she intimidated him. “We were told to come here because we’re looking for information.”
“Who sent you?”
“An old barber over in Shady Towne.”
“Cutter.”
“Yeah, he’s the one.” Michael almost made a joke about his bad breath but stopped himself.
Ronika paused for a second. “I think I already know the answer to this question, but what are you looking for?”
“We’re looking for Kaine. The gamer.” He assumed that would be enough, but he continued. “Cutter said something about ‘the Path.’ ”
Bryson suddenly stood up, his hands flying to his temples, his eyes squeezed tight. “Oh, crap. Oh, crap.”
Michael’s heart sank. This couldn’t be good.
“What?” Sarah asked.
Bryson dropped his arms and opened his eyes. He looked over at Ronika. “My Tracer just lit up. Kaine knows we’re here. He’s close.”
Ronika seemed completely unfazed.
“Well, of course he is,” she said.
CHAPTER 7
BLACK AND BLUE
1
They all looked at the woman, waiting for her explanation. Michael wanted to get up and run, but he knew they might never
“Um, what just happened?” Michael asked. Seeing his friends made him feel better, despite the fact that he’d sunk through the floor.
“Something pulled us in here is what happened,” Bryson answered. “Which means we probably didn’t get into the club quite as stealthily as we thought.”
“Hello?” Sarah called out. “Who brought us here?”
A door in the back swung open, spilling a fan of light across the floor. A woman walked in, and the only word Michael could think of to describe her was
whoa
. Not beautiful, not sexy, not old or young or anything else. He found it impossible to guess her age or even say if she was ugly or pretty. But her elegant black dress, her gray hair, her wise face, everything about her screamed authority.
Michael prayed that Bryson wouldn’t say something stupid.
“Have a seat,” the woman said as she walked toward them. “I have to say I’m impressed with your little trick outside, though the two idiots who fell for it have already been fired.” She sat down in a plush leather chair and crossed her legs. “I told you to take a seat.”
Michael realized that all three of them had been staring at her with their mouths slightly open. Embarrassed, he quickly made his way to the couch on her right and sat down just as Bryson and Sarah took the one on the left.
“I assume you know who I am,” she said. Michael couldn’t tell if the lady was angry or upset. He’d never heard such indifference in a voice before.
“Ronika,” Sarah replied in a reverent whisper.
“Yes, my name is Ronika.” She turned her cold gaze on each of them in turn, and Michael was mesmerized. “You’re sitting in this room for only one reason: I’m curious. Your age and background give me no clue as to why you might be here. Judging by the time you spent stumbling around upstairs, it wasn’t to dance.”
“How did you…” Michael stopped himself before asking the dumbest question of his life. Of course this lady knew how to find their information. Her hacking skills were probably ten times his own. You didn’t become a club owner—much less the owner of the Black and Blue—without talent and loads of money.
She merely raised her eyebrows at him, which was answer enough. She continued.
“I want to make this clear: the Black and Blue didn’t get its reputation in the VirtNet by chance. People who’ve tried what you did today have ended up in places ranging from hospitals to mental wards. Answer my questions. Be up-front and you’ll be fine. But be warned—I despise sarcasm.”
Michael exchanged a look with Sarah. She’d been the one to get them inside; he knew that now it was his turn. It seemed like Bryson always got off easy.
“Why are you here?” Ronika asked.
Michael cleared his throat and swore to himself that he wouldn’t let the lady see how badly she intimidated him. “We were told to come here because we’re looking for information.”
“Who sent you?”
“An old barber over in Shady Towne.”
“Cutter.”
“Yeah, he’s the one.” Michael almost made a joke about his bad breath but stopped himself.
Ronika paused for a second. “I think I already know the answer to this question, but what are you looking for?”
“We’re looking for Kaine. The gamer.” He assumed that would be enough, but he continued. “Cutter said something about ‘the Path.’ ”
Bryson suddenly stood up, his hands flying to his temples, his eyes squeezed tight. “Oh, crap. Oh, crap.”
Michael’s heart sank. This couldn’t be good.
“What?” Sarah asked.
Bryson dropped his arms and opened his eyes. He looked over at Ronika. “My Tracer just lit up. Kaine knows we’re here. He’s close.”
Ronika seemed completely unfazed.
“Well, of course he is,” she said.
CHAPTER 7
BLACK AND BLUE
1
They all looked at the woman, waiting for her explanation. Michael wanted to get up and run, but he knew they might never
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