Samantha woke up in the middle of a blizzard.
She was buried in so many layers of clothing she could barely move. Flat on her back in the snow, she stared up at the swirling dark sky, flakes of snow flying sideways in the howling wind.
Within seconds, her face began to turn purple. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably.
"Hoo…" she exhaled through her mouth, a puff of warm white breath escaping into the frigid air.
A face suddenly entered her view—familiar, but dressed in unfamiliar winter gear.
"Samantha?" Flynn said, kneeling beside her. "Come on." He offered a gloved hand and helped her up.
"You alright?"
"I'm okay." Samantha looked around. Most of the other players were dressed for the cold—some barely.
"Anyone need more jackets?" she called out, raising her voice to fight the wind.
Several players hurried over. Samantha handed out extra jackets from her stash.
"Seen anyone else wearing as much as me?" she asked Flynn.
"She's handing some out too," he said, pointing. It was Heather, distributing spare clothes just like her.
"There's nothing out there," Flynn muttered, shielding his eyes against the stinging snow as he looked toward the horizon. "Just white. Endless white."
That wasn't Samantha's main concern.
"You know someone named Liam?" she asked as she handed a jacket to another player.
"Liam who?"
"Liam Dye. He should be here."
"Liam?" The man she'd just helped looked up. "I know him. Don't think I've seen him though."
With everyone bundled up in layers and scarves, it was almost impossible to recognize anyone.
Samantha squinted. "I know you."
"You do?"
"You're the one who told me not to find Liam, back in his university."
"Oh—uh—sorry. Did he tell you he picked this too?"
"Yeah. Said he chose Antarctica."
"Samantha, right?" someone else called out.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks again. For the jacket—and for the last game." A man bowed politely. A woman beside him did the same.
Samantha raised her hands. "No need." She turned back to Jason. "Let me know if you find him." Then she moved to find her mother.
The man and woman turned to Flynn next. "You were there too. Thank you."
"I don't deserve credit," Flynn replied, adjusting his hat as the wind nearly tore it off. "It was her. And Brandon."
"Brandon's not here," the woman said.
Flynn didn't flinch. "That's fine. Doesn't look like there's much to do in this game anyway. Maybe start a fire—if that were possible."
But with no wood in sight, it wasn't.
"No," someone said from nearby—a hunched man, sitting on a rock, his head low. "The game hasn't started yet."
"Why do you say that?"
"This is Antarctica. 98% ice. Moving glaciers mean deep cracks. You fall into one and you're gone—ice water, instant death. And then there's avalanches too."
He wasn't wrong. The game never made things easy.
Flynn remained steady. "We'll deal with it when it comes."
—
"Mom?" Samantha and Heather had now given out nearly all their spare clothes. Walking had become easier.
"Sam. You want another layer?"
"No, I'm good."
"Oh my god—Samantha, right?" A woman who'd just received a jacket from Heather turned to her.
"Yeah."
"You know her?" Heather asked, puzzled.
"She was a savior last game."
Heather looked at Samantha in surprise. "What happened last game?"
"You don't know? Were you in the sea monsters?"
"No, I'm new. First game." Heather turned back to the woman. "Savior?"
"She and Brandon risked everything for us. They came up with a plan—saved all of us. She's a hero."
Heather was stunned. Then she gave a soft chuckle.
"What?" Samantha asked.
Heather patted her daughter on the shoulder. Her smile faded, her eyes darkening with concern.
Risking her life to save people? Sounded too familiar.
"Mom, have you seen Liam?"
"Who?"
"Liam Dye. He used to come over. Lunch. Sometimes dinner."
"Ohhh, right. That was years ago, wasn't it?" Heather blinked in recognition. "He's in this?"
"He should be. He said he chose Antarctica."
Around twenty players wandered nearby—too bundled up to recognize easily.
So Samantha and Heather went player to player, tapping shoulders, searching.
Eventually, Samantha tapped Jason's shoulder again.
"No sign?"
"He's not here."
Samantha frowned. "That doesn't make sense. He said Antarctica."
"Was he the one who asked you the Would You Rather question? The one who brought you in?" Jason asked.
"No. I just asked him which option he picked. He said Antarctica. I remember."
Jason hesitated. "Have you… ever seen him in the game?"
The question made Samantha wince. A flash of blood. The metallic tang in the air. Her face smeared red. His hands stained red. That moment, burned into her mind.
She pressed her hand against her forehead. "Yeah. I have."
"When?"
"Last game. Zombies. We were both in it."
"Was he acting… strange?"
Definitely. But Samantha knew the reason for his action and it wasn't out of cruelty.
"No."
Jason's expression tightened. "Liam dragged me into this. He was the first one who asked me. But he said it was because he was being controlled."
Samantha believed that. She'd seen it herself—the blank eyes, the lifeless feel on her very own mother. The game's mind control was real.
"Why would he lie to us? About which option he chose?" she asked.
"I don't know who you are to him. But if I had to guess? He doesn't want us near him. Like he's doing something—something shady. Maybe dangerous. Maybe worse. I don't know, but something about him feels off."
As Jason kept talking, Samantha recalled her recent encounters with Liam. A thought slithered in, quiet and dark.
"Oh no…" she whispered. She stared down. "You're not— Are you?"