1 - Ten Million Dollar Bait

"Name?"

"Rae Merrell."

"Place your thumb onto the glass and look into the camera."

I try to focus on the little red light that is scanning my retina at the same time I press down hard on the print scanner. The draft from the air conditioner cools my skin to a point where it is uncomfortable. Despite the goosebumps on my arm, my palms are sweaty. I try to peek around the entry post to catch a glimpse at the inside of the astrodome. Laughter drifts my way, but the closing double glass doors block my view.

"You may proceed to the security check."

Stumbling forward, I line up in front of the body scanner. Glancing back over my shoulder, I watch as Dakin is processed through. Though we are twins, only separated by three minutes, our appearance is nothing alike. While I took the height and awkward frame of our dad, his features are soft, almost feminine. Long, curved eyelashes frame his light hazel eyes with the golden specs. Girls absolutely adore him, totally ignoring his selfish and crude personality. I, on the other hand, am often tossed into the tomboy category which hasn't been attractive after I outgrew the tree climbing phase.

"Smile, Rae," he says when he steps behind me. "This is supposed to be fun."

A snappy reply burns on my tongue, but I swallow down the words in the last second and settle for an evil glare. In which universe is he living in? There is nothing fun about this event. The competition will be brutal and it will be close to impossible to grab any of the prize money, if we even make it into one of the final rounds at all.

Raising my arms above my head, I endure the body scan. After I'm cleared, I wait for Dakin who casually flings his arm around my shoulders as he pushes me toward the entrance.

"Ready?"

Not really, but what choice do I have? The glass doors open and we step through. My eyes grow wide as I soak in the buzzing excitement that greets us. Despite our dire situation, the electrifying atmosphere prickles on my skin. A taste of adventure is palpable and for the first time since my mom got us the tickets, I'm not totally dreading the next four days.

"Look, there is Skylight." Dakin's eyes are as fired up as mine. "Let's check it out."

I stay behind as he pushes his way to the front, ignoring a few mumbled protests of those who have already waited in line before him. Though Skylight has always been one of my favorite games, it has been around for too long to offer any serious prize money. The winner will probably just get early access to next year's upgrade or some exclusive convention characters.

My eyes scan over the crowd of visitors that huddle around various booth. There is Pirate's Hook, Abishtosh, and even some old-fashioned soldier games which draw very little interest. Shooting weapons in an MMO game that one can find in real life is so lame. My gaze finally falls onto the huge monitor that takes up an entire wall. The 3D image of a purple golden snake whose head stretches far toward the arched ceiling glows against the black background. Its mouth is wide open and by the way the body bends forward, the serpent is about to swallow me alive.

Like a magnet, the eyes of the snake pull me under its spell. They seem so real. My feet shuffle forward, my gaze fixed on the glossy dark pupils. They are looking right into my soul. My arms instinctively wrap around my chest to shield my secrets. My heartbeat still accelerates until the heavy pounding threatens to tear through my chest. The glare of the snake is terrifying, but no matter how much I want to look away, I can't break the grip it has on me.

All of a sudden, the snake lunges forward, its mouth widening. My arms rise to fend off the oncoming attack just as a collective squeal echoes off the large glass windows of the astrodome. The huge fangs are about to scrape my skin and I cower closer to the ground, choking from the sharp scent emitting from its breath. A gasp escapes when the mouth snaps shut before the image of the serpent melts with the milky light of the morning sun.

My eyes dart around—without exception, the visitors have dropped to the ground and squint around as disoriented as me. The high-pitched squeak from the microphone tears me finally out of my daze.

"Ha, ha, sorry about that."

The voice of a young man carries easily over the heads of the cowering visitors. A few of them rise with defiant faces, undoubtedly to prove to the rest of us just how tough they are. A boy sticks out by his pouty smirk—he is Balin Haskett, the grand prize winner of last year's game.

"Welcome to Shadow Serpent," the voice of the young man carries on. "We are pleased to announce that with our new, breakthrough technology, the game has blurred the last remaining borders to reality. This demonstration was a little teaser of what participants can look forward to. Sign up will begin in a few minutes, but unfortunately, we only have twelve spots available. The selection process will not only be competitive, but everyone will have to undergo extensive medical and psychological testing since this game will drive you to your physical and mental limits. We hope that the prize money will make up for it. This year's pot is"—he pauses for dramatic effect—"ten million dollars."

My gasp is drowned out by the excited chatter that fills every inch of the astrodome. I look around for Dakin who is already pushing his way through the crowds to join the sign-up line that has appeared out of nowhere. Balin has claimed the top spot. Our eyes briefly interlock and I am graced with a dismissive smirk. Only a few girls try out for the top games; he must not view me as serious competition.

Though I want nothing more than wipe that superior grin off his lips, my chances to make it onto the Shadow Serpent roster are as good as nil, so why even waste my time? There will be plenty of game promoters who offer prize money and at the end of the week, I only need to walk away with a half a million to pay for my sister's surgery. After all, this is why I came for and not to play in some ridiculous game with a competition out of this world.

I turn toward the stand of Treasure Chest, Game of the Year of the last convention. The woman looks a little lost without any visitors to assist while the line in front of the Shadow Serpent booth is growing by the second.

"Excuse me." I give her my best winning smile, the effort hurting my jaw. "Are you offering a game this year?"

"Yes, but we only give out material prizes. The organizers decided that only Shadow Serpent can offer prize monies this time around."

"That's kind of unfair, considering there are only twelve spots."

She shrugs. "Sorry, but those are the new rules. The convention is not meant to raise money, but to try out new games. I'm more than happy to include you on the Treasure Chest team if you'd like. You can get a brand new game console."

"Thanks, I'll think about it." I turn away, cursing my bad luck. Why in god's name did they have to change the rules this year? My mom had saved every available penny for the past six month to afford these tickets, and a new game console will neither put food on the table nor pay for any of my sister's medical bills.

With a low growl, I line up for the Shadow Serpent competition. The queue is now so long that it zigzags through the entire astrodome. Only a few younger kids have chosen to loiter around the other stands, though the envy is oozing from their eyes. From the energetic chatter that hangs in the air, I'm apparently the only one who is not excited to play in a game where snakes threaten to eat me alive. That I have also an unnatural fear of scaly things will not work in my favor.

By the time I reach the front of the line, my burning throat is killing me and I desperately have to pee. I shift from foot to foot, keeping my knees pressed together as discretely as possible.

"Name?" the lady asks, her green bubble gum popping when she raises her head to look at me. Her eyes are of the same deep purple as the scales of the snake, the intensity in them almost causing me to lose the rest of my bladder control.

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"Rae." I swallow to get a hold of my voice. "Rae Merrell."

"Age?"

"Sixteen."

She checks off a few boxes on a form and hands me a clipboard. "Fill this out and sign, and then line up for your initial health check."

I nod with a mumbled "thanks", desperate to get away from her. Clutching the clipboard so tightly until my fingers hurt, I head toward the bathroom. By the time, I slam the stall door shut, my knees are like jelly. What the hell is wrong with me?

"Get a grip on yourself, Rae," I mutter under my breath before I squat down to complete my business. Afterwards, I feel better. Studying myself in the mirror with a deep frown, I check my make-up and tuck a few stubborn curls back behind my ears. My focus shifts to the form on the clipboard. There are three pages of questions, plus some other stuff to sign, so I'd better get started.

Already lining up in the queue for the initial health check, I skim through the forms, checking off the boxes with mostly no answers to illnesses I've never even heard of. Just as I reach the end of the page, the pen freezes. There it is. "Have you or anyone in your family ever suffered from cardiomyopathy as the result of the Strabovirus?"

The pen only hovers over the yes for a mere second before my hand swings to the no. Almost breaking off the tip of the pen, I add the checkmark with a low huff. This illness already destroyed my sister enough and will not take this one shot from me to help raise the much-needed cash.

I scan over the rest of the forms, but those just summarize the legal garbage they make us sign to cover their butts. Even a child knows that players participate at their own risk and can't sue the company for any reason. Sometimes I wonder why they even bother with the forms. My signature at the bottom is just a formality.

My heart still threatens to jump from my chest when I hand the clipboard to the nurse, but she doesn't even bother to look at the health questionnaire.

"Stretch out your right index finger."

I flinch when the small needle pricks my skin, just to watch in fascination how a few drops of my blood disappear in the small drum that starts to spin immediately. Numbers flash on her screen before the card printer slips with a low hum a few times from the left to the right and back. I am handed the card—my overall score is sixty-three.

"Is that good?"

She studies me over her gold-framed reading glasses with a small frown. "It's a pass. Your contestant ID is A Thirty-Six. That's also on the top left of your card. Take a seat in the waiting area over there until they call your name."

"Aye, ma'am." I raise my fingers to my temple in fake salute, but her frown only deepens. She must not have a sense of humor.

Like a scolded child, I retreat and rush over to the waiting area to which her chin had pointed at. There are only four other contestants slouched in various chairs and for the first time I notice that most of the other visitors didn't make the cut. Business has picked up at the other booths and an even humming of mumbling voices fills the air of the astrodome. The tension seeps out of me as I lower myself onto the plastic stool—hurdle number one has been mastered. I'm in the closer selection pool.

I wipe my sweaty hands on my pants before craning my neck to catch a glimpse at the other waiting areas. There is no sign of Dakin. My eyes scan the nearby booths, but his neon red hair that usually sticks out like a sore thumb is not among the bend heads huddled around the game consoles.

"Rae Merrell."

My head snaps to the left at the sound of my name, my gaze finding a young dorky looking doctor with glasses that he keeps pushing up his nose, but that keep sliding down.

"Follow me."

I rise too my feet like a rocket, ignoring the evil glares of the other contestants that had already been waiting longer than me. It's not that I asked for preferential treatment. I stroll behind the young doctor through the sliding glass doors, blinking when bright light stings my eyes. The room doesn't resemble any longer a convention hall, but reminds me of the state's medical offices I visited as a child. White, sterile, with this slight stench that always gives me a headache.

After I'm measured and weight, any possible vital sign is taken before little electrode pads are stuck to various parts of my body.

"This is the stress test. You have to run on the treadmill for thirty minutes. Are you ready?"

Before I can even nod, the machine is turned on. Though I find an even rhythm from the start, he must have turned on the incline since my thigh muscles burn after only a few minutes. Sweat trickles down from my hairline by the buckets and continues down my cheeks and neck before the drops end up on the collar of my shirt. From there, it soaks down my back. My shirt and pants are drenched and stick to my skin by the time I hit the ten-minute mark. When the scorching thirst in my throat become unbearable, I reach for the water bottle, gulping down a few sips before focusing back on the task.

Halfway into the exercise, I'm panting. Gritting my teeth, I push on. Yet with every passing second, it gets harder to ignore the fierce pain in my legs and stitch in my side. When I'm down to the last five minutes, nausea starts to crawl up my throat. I fight with all my might to keep the bile under control, almost letting out a yelp of relieve when the doctor appears next to me. He slows down the torturous machine before bringing it to a stop.

I bend over to catch my breath, wiping over my sweaty forehead with the back of my sleeve. Downing the rest of my water bottle, I grin up into the doctor's face.

"How did I do?"

He studies my print-outs with pursed lips. "Pretty good for someone who is not used to running marathons."

"That was a marathon?"

"Yep. The way the machine works, your body runs an equivalent of fifty miles in higher terrain. The majority of applicants give up after the first five minutes."

"So completing is already good, right?"

His gray eyes pierce into me. "There is this old saying—watch what you wish for. These games are dangerous. Do you really want to participate?"

The words weigh heavy on my tongue. All I can do is nod when he keeps staring at me.

"Well, there is only the psychological test left." He points to a small stall. "In there."

He ushers me along with impatient grumbles, all of a sudden in a rush. Since my legs are heavy and numb, I struggle not to stumble over my own feet. With a sigh, I sink into the soft examination chair. Straps hold me in place and before I can object, the tip of an injection gun presses slightly against the sensitive skin under my left ear. The needle penetration is hardly noticeable, the only sign that he injected me with a serum is the slight burn that spreads from my ear throughout my neck.

"Close your eyes and try to relax," he says as he sticks a couple of pads on the side of my face right above my temples.

My eyes squeeze shut and I exhale, allowing for the warmth that is enveloping me to suck me in. Rapid pictures that I can't make out roll up in my mind like a racing fast forward movie. A scream echoes in my head. My skull vibrates long after it has died down. For some unknown reason, the oxygen is squeezed from my lungs. I gasp for air, my mouth opening and closing rapidly. Just as the fear of suffocation claws at every fiber of my body, it is gone again. A hand brushing over my arms makes my body jerk in the chair.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Your test is complete."

I pry my eyes open. "Did I pass?"

"I don't know, but they'll announce the twelve contestants in a few minutes. You were the last test subject."

I jump out of the chair. Every muscle twitches in excitement as I make my way back to the aerodrome. By the time I join the big group of people that has surrounded the Shadow Serpent booth, my insides are about to bust open. After the dread of the tests, I want to be part of this game so badly. I deserve this chance.

"We have our contestants," the young man announces with a wide grin as he appears on the podium.

The mumble of the voices in the aerodrome die down to mere shuffles. All eyes are on him.

"When I call your name, please join me here on the podium. Are you ready?"

A collective "yeah" shakes the floor below my feet. I bite my lip, the suspense ready to blow my mind.

"Contestant number one is Balin Haskett."

No surprise there. The last year winner always makes the current roster.

"Contestant number two—Sarek Kubelik."

A black boy about my age walks up on stage, raising his fist in the air with a loud "whoo". Balin snorts and they size each other up. It is already clear that they don't intent to form an alliance in the game.

I zoom out the erupting cheers as contestant after contestant steps up on the stage, my hopes plummeting with every name that is called. Only three participants left. So far, only boys were chosen, something I should have expected in such a competitive game. They probably beat me in every aspect of the testing.

"Our tenth contestant is Dakin Merrell."

I roll my tongue around my fingers for a loud whistle when my brother steps up onto the podium. At least one of us made the cut. I should be grateful, but can't help for the searing envy to bubble through my veins. Everything has always been handed to him just because of his gender.

"Contestant eleven is Kestra Penhall."

There is a short gasp when a short redhead swings herself onto the podium. Her green eyes sparkle with excitement and she waves at the crowd with her chin held up high despite the growing boos. She certainly doesn't lack self-confidence.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, my hope reduced to a mere glimmer. Only one participant left—and they already fulfilled their girl quota. No way they'll pick another one.

"And our last contestant. It's Rae Merrell."

My jaw drops, my legs refusing to move. The clapping crowd is making me dizzy, my stomach so tight that I'm ready to hurl.

"Rae, where are you? Come on up here."

In a daze, I stumble forward through the parting masses. The noises around me are dying down, it's like I'm walking in a bubble. Camera flashes blind my eyes as I make my way up the steps. Dakin nudges me in the shoulder before I'm pulled to the center of the contestant queue.

Kestra, who is standing beside me, leans over. "This is going to be so much fun." Her voice is high pitched, almost perky, and the excitement is practically bursting out of her.

I nod, my vocal cords still paralyzed from the shock that I actually made it into the contestant pool. A beam lights up the stage and I squint at the roaring crowd below.

"A round of applause to all the contestants of this year's featured game...," booms the magnified voice of the young man over the claps and whistles of the spectators.

My hands are enclosed from the left and the right, my arms pulled up with one swift jerk. The masses go ballistic by our sign of unity, though deep down, everyone knows that we would cut each other's throat to get our hands on the prize money.

"Welcome to Shadow Serpent."