that moment. Like the life she had known before died in a single heartbeat.
Flickering torch flames danced across a wet stain that was rapidly settling into the cracks between wooden slabs, and on the ground next to Neela was a crumpled heap of arms and legs. The “It’s Not a Party Till I Slytherin” T-shirt faced Persey, but she could barely discern the lettering across the torso because the shirt was soaked in blood below the neck.
Or at least Persey thought it was her neck.
Arlo’s head was gone.
IF B.J.’S DEAD BODY HAD (NOT) BEEN A FIGMENT OF PERSEY’S imagination, Arlo’s decapitated corpse was a mass hallucination. Or at least Persey wanted it to be. Because if it was real, if that truly was Arlo’s lifeless body with blood still spurting from its gaping neck, it meant the Escape-Capades All-Star Competition now had two deaths on its head.
Er, bad choice of words, Persey.
Neela had been the closest person to the body when it fell, confirmed by the Jackson Pollock–esque splattering of blood on her face, hands, and clothes, manifesting as a wet sheen across the black fabric of her shirt. She stood with arms outstretched, frozen in time at the moment she’d tried to break Arlo’s fall, trembling.
“Oh my Gorn!” she cried. “Get it off. Get it off me!”
Persey wasn’t sure if she meant the blood or the specter of death, but there was only one of those that she could solve. She raced to Neela’s side, stripping off her top layer of T-shirts en route, and deftly began to wipe the blood from Neela’s face and hands.
“Is she dead?” Tears streamed down Neela’s face. “Do you think she’s dead?”
“Her head is missing,” Shaun said, stating the obvious. “The probability of surviving a complete decapitation is zero.” Even through his robotic intonation, Persey could hear the flutter of emotion in his voice. Fear.
“It was an accident, right?” Mackenzie crouched down on the ground, arms wrapped around her body, and began to rock gently back and forth. “It was just an accident.”
Not claiming it’s fake now, huh?
“Leah!” Riot spun around, searching the Cavethedral for the camera they all knew was there. “You need to call an ambulance. Stat!”
It’s a bit late for that.
Light suddenly flooded the space, illuminating Arlo’s body like the spotlights Persey used to operate in the West Valley theater as the trapdoor in the ceiling flew open. A shadow leaned into view; then Wes’s voice drifted down. “Holy shit, you guys. Arlo’s dead!”
“We know,” Kevin replied, sounding way too calm.
“Her head…” Wes’s voice trailed off. “It…it rolled across the floor and then got wedged between Captain America’s shield and a collectible Space: 1999 Eagle. Her eyes are still open. She’s…she’s staring at me.”
“What the hell happened up there?” Persey called out.
“I…I don’t know. She insisted on going before me. And…and then the door just snapped shut and…”
“And then her head just snapped off,” Shaun said, completing the thought.
“I can’t stay up here with those eyes looking at me.” Wes’s voice shook. “I’m…I’m coming down.”
“Dude!” Riot said, waving his arms to get Wes’s attention. “Do not slide down that thing! Just stay put and wait for the cops to show—”
“Too late,” Kevin said. Wes had already swung himself onto the pole and released his grip.
He fell like a stone, not slowing himself at all as he passed through the murderous trapdoor. Probably thought that the faster he moved, the safer he might be, which was smart, but as he rocketed down toward Arlo’s corpse, Persey immediately identified a new problem.
“Watch out!” she cried as Wes’s Tevas skidded on the uneven floor made slick by a heavy coating of Arlo’s blood. He clawed at the pole, desperately trying not to lose his balance. Kevin and Persey grabbed each of his arms and heaved Wes away from the gore, tripping on the awkward floor gaps as they went.
“It must have been a malfunction,” Shaun said, gazing up at the circle of light in the ceiling. “Software glitch or a structural weakness in the trapdoor mechanism.”
“Did you hear anything?” Persey asked. “See anything?”
“Just Arlo’s head rolling across the floor like a bowling ball,” Wes said as he regained his footing, shaking her off. You’re welcome.
“But it was an accident, right?” Mackenzie repeated.
Silence. Persey couldn’t stop thinking about how upset Arlo was after she escaped her ATM booth. What had she yelled at the camera? Something about a password.
“This doesn’t mean you’re right.” Mackenzie spat the words at Persey, her diction so vehement that