Endgame: The Calling by James Frey, Nils Johnson-Shelton Page B
Authors: James Frey, Nils Johnson-Shelton
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to follow it. If another Player gets the disk, she’ll follow that Player. She’ll continue to follow it until she spots her opening, and then she’ll steal it. She knows it leads to Earth Key.
And she knows that she is the only one who knows.
Because this is the clue that kepler 22b left in her mind. In very simple language, it told her: As the Mu, only you understand where the disk will lead.
Chiyoko watches Maccabee reach the doorway, stumble through, vanish. Aisling is less than a minute away. None of them have noticed Chiyoko. She’ll go in after the Celt. Chiyoko waits. Surmises that she has only one more minute at the Calling. Only one more minute in the presence of the magnificent glimmering pyramid. She bows to it, shows her respect and admiration, shares a quiet moment with it, thanks it for being.
A small distant twang jostles the air on her eardrum, interrupting her reverie. She drops to the ground instinctively as an arrow cuts the air right where her heart was.
One of them did notice her.
The boy.
Baitsakhan.
Chiyoko figures that seven long strides of open ground separate the edge of the woods from the portal. She will not risk getting shot to get there. She knows she has to move or the boy will kill her. As she crawls forward, another arrow punctures the ground near her, but it is a desperate shot. She is certain the boy can no longer see her.
She reaches a thick tree and stands behind it, traces the invisible arc of the arrows that have been shot at her. Finds the spot where they were fired and sees him crouched among the green.
He’s 90 feet away.
Well within striking distance.
She reaches into her jacket and pulls out five razor-sharp, titanium shuriken. Her fingers dance around them and they fan out like cards. She flips one into the air with one hand, catches it with the other.
She is not impetuous. Killing for her has always been the child of opportunity and necessity, and she doesn’t take it lightly. We are human. We have one life that should be honored. Taking a life should always be a considered decision.
She moves quietly down the hill, the pyramid at her back. She wills her eyes to dilate against the glow of the explosion’s lingering flames. She stops next to a fallen tree, plants her left foot, throws.
Baitsakhan is nearly surprised.
Nearly.
At the last moment he drops, and the throwing star misses, burying itself in a tree trunk.
Chiyoko breathes.
Stays still.
Waits.
She catches sight of Aisling Kopp passing through the portal.
She watches as Baitsakhan stands and exposes himself, loading an arrow and frantically looking for her.
Fool .
She throws a star, and it hits the boy on the outside of his shoulder, disappears into his flesh.
He cries out.
She relocates again, putting herself on a path that leads directly to the door. She throws another star, the six points whirling through the air like a silent saw blade, on target to stop in the middle of the boy’s forehead. But just before it strikes, there’s a gust of wind that blows it off course, and it glances off his scalp, taking a chunk of flesh and hair with it.
He cries out again, issuing a challenge, and desperately shoots an arrow into the night.
Chiyoko breathes. The gust subsides. She turns to the pyramid, performs a forward flip over a large rock, and when she is upside down she throws the last of her shuriken at the annoying one-named boy, Baitsakhan, the Donghu of the 13th line. She lands squarely on her feet and silently sprints through the mystical door, unsure if she hit her target.
She doesn’t care. The boy is too rash to last for very long. If she didn’t kill him, someone else will.
Chiyoko appears in the secret room where they first gathered. She is not at all disoriented like the others were. She sneaks to the door and down the old stairs and sees Aisling leave the main chamber at the top of the building. Chiyoko waits, hugs the wall, and moves around the edge of the room like a ghost.
And she knows that she is the only one who knows.
Because this is the clue that kepler 22b left in her mind. In very simple language, it told her: As the Mu, only you understand where the disk will lead.
Chiyoko watches Maccabee reach the doorway, stumble through, vanish. Aisling is less than a minute away. None of them have noticed Chiyoko. She’ll go in after the Celt. Chiyoko waits. Surmises that she has only one more minute at the Calling. Only one more minute in the presence of the magnificent glimmering pyramid. She bows to it, shows her respect and admiration, shares a quiet moment with it, thanks it for being.
A small distant twang jostles the air on her eardrum, interrupting her reverie. She drops to the ground instinctively as an arrow cuts the air right where her heart was.
One of them did notice her.
The boy.
Baitsakhan.
Chiyoko figures that seven long strides of open ground separate the edge of the woods from the portal. She will not risk getting shot to get there. She knows she has to move or the boy will kill her. As she crawls forward, another arrow punctures the ground near her, but it is a desperate shot. She is certain the boy can no longer see her.
She reaches a thick tree and stands behind it, traces the invisible arc of the arrows that have been shot at her. Finds the spot where they were fired and sees him crouched among the green.
He’s 90 feet away.
Well within striking distance.
She reaches into her jacket and pulls out five razor-sharp, titanium shuriken. Her fingers dance around them and they fan out like cards. She flips one into the air with one hand, catches it with the other.
She is not impetuous. Killing for her has always been the child of opportunity and necessity, and she doesn’t take it lightly. We are human. We have one life that should be honored. Taking a life should always be a considered decision.
She moves quietly down the hill, the pyramid at her back. She wills her eyes to dilate against the glow of the explosion’s lingering flames. She stops next to a fallen tree, plants her left foot, throws.
Baitsakhan is nearly surprised.
Nearly.
At the last moment he drops, and the throwing star misses, burying itself in a tree trunk.
Chiyoko breathes.
Stays still.
Waits.
She catches sight of Aisling Kopp passing through the portal.
She watches as Baitsakhan stands and exposes himself, loading an arrow and frantically looking for her.
Fool .
She throws a star, and it hits the boy on the outside of his shoulder, disappears into his flesh.
He cries out.
She relocates again, putting herself on a path that leads directly to the door. She throws another star, the six points whirling through the air like a silent saw blade, on target to stop in the middle of the boy’s forehead. But just before it strikes, there’s a gust of wind that blows it off course, and it glances off his scalp, taking a chunk of flesh and hair with it.
He cries out again, issuing a challenge, and desperately shoots an arrow into the night.
Chiyoko breathes. The gust subsides. She turns to the pyramid, performs a forward flip over a large rock, and when she is upside down she throws the last of her shuriken at the annoying one-named boy, Baitsakhan, the Donghu of the 13th line. She lands squarely on her feet and silently sprints through the mystical door, unsure if she hit her target.
She doesn’t care. The boy is too rash to last for very long. If she didn’t kill him, someone else will.
Chiyoko appears in the secret room where they first gathered. She is not at all disoriented like the others were. She sneaks to the door and down the old stairs and sees Aisling leave the main chamber at the top of the building. Chiyoko waits, hugs the wall, and moves around the edge of the room like a ghost.
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