unfortunate events of last year, Escape-Capades has grown to become the single largest purveyor of elaborate, intricate, and downright diabolical escape room experiences in the world. And with its initial public offering last month, Escape-Capades is now valued at well over five hundred million dollars.”
Holy shit, really? Persey had never paid much (any) attention to business matters. She knew Escape-Capades had been the hot new thing at one time, but she had no idea that the corporation was such a big deal. Such a big money deal.
“Now, in memory of our founders, Derrick and Melinda Browne, we have initiated a yearly All-Star Competition, featuring the best and brightest escape room fans from around the world.”
Persey cast a furtive look at the group. The best and brightest. The faces reflected a mix of confidence and smugness. And, in Neela’s case, abject wonder. She watched the video with wide eyes behind her thick lenses, lips parted in an unconscious smile, like a kid going to Disneyland for the first time, staring up at Sleeping Beauty’s castle as if a fairy tale had really and truly come to life.
“And so, as you embark on this adventure,” the voice concluded, sounding very much like she was giving some kind of farewell speech, “we wish you all good luck. You’re going to need it.”
The music swelled as the establishing shot of the HQ exterior faded into and out of view before the video ended.
“Well, that wasn’t helpful,” Slytherin said as the lights resumed their normal brightness. Her skeptical face wrinkled into a frown. “You explained exactly nothing.”
“Maybe that’s part of the game,” Mohawk suggested, leaning back against a bookcase.
“Maybe we all are,” Mackenzie added.
Leah stepped in front of the fireplace and spread her arms wide. Like the voice on the video, she seemed a little stiff, an android following her programming or a bad actor reading from a script. “How about I start by introducing you to each other.”
“Why bother?” Kevin said. “We’re going to smoke you all. Names will just get in our way.”
“‘We’?” Mackenzie sauntered forward. “‘Us’?” She threw a withering glance at Persey. “You sure you want to throw in with that? There are better options here.”
“There is no ‘we,’” Persey replied. For the second time that afternoon, she wanted to smack Kevin upside the head for drawing everyone’s attention to her.
Kevin winked. “You sure about that?”
Yes.
“You’ll all be working together,” Leah said by way of an explanation, “and also be in competition with one another, so it might be nice if you at least knew each other’s names.”
Kevin shrugged, then hoisted himself up on a heavy table. “Fine. I’m Kevin.” He turned back to Mackenzie as if he knew he was facing a friendly audience. “But you can call me Kevin.”
Mackenzie giggled.
“That isn’t actually a joke, Kevin,” Shaun said, turning his head stiffly. “So I’m not sure why it would cause anyone to laugh.” His flat, even tone of voice reminded Persey of a computer-generated telemarketing call.
Leah laughed impulsively, then seemed to catch herself, suppressing the instinct and resuming her poised, professional demeanor. “Shaun”—she gestured to him—“is a computer science and history double major at Notre Dame, where he serves as captain of the university’s History Masters chapter. He won their annual escape room competition.”
“Notre Dame?” Slytherin said, head tilted to the side. “My little brother goes there. Small world.”
“There are approximately eight thousand, five hundred undergraduates at Notre Dame,” Shaun replied coldly. “It could only be considered a ‘small world’ if your brother was my roommate or something to that effect.”
Slytherin squared her hips, combative. “I don’t know. He’s also a computer science major, about your age. Kind of a prig. I bet a hundred bucks you know Atticus.”
Shaun’s right eyebrow raised a centimeter, displaying more motion than he’d shown since Persey walked in the room. “Atticus?” He cleared his throat. “Never heard of him.”
Persey was pretty sure he was lying.
Before Slytherin could follow up, Sir Sleeps-a-Lot yawned from his sofa. “ND is cool. I mean, it’s no Yale. But cool.”
Kevin turned to him. “Guessing you went to Yale, huh?”
He shrugged. “I don’t like to brag.”
“So what you’re saying,” Kevin said coolly, “is that you’re a douchebag.”
“Right?” Mackenzie said. She batted her heavy lashes at Kevin, and Persey wondered what she was up to. “Why is it that people who go to Harvard or Yale always seem to let you know it in the first few moments of meeting them?”
Mohawk raised his hand. “Just for the record, I went to