Gamers Con: The First Zak Steepleman Novel (18 page)

So I had to guess.

“Over there,” I said, pointing, and we took off that way.

As we sploshed through the water, I thought to fill in the others on what had happened, and on my suspicions. Just as I had suspected, each of their invigilators had gone back to their hotel rooms and made them go into
Halls of Hallow
to hear just what the Cloaked Figure had to say . . . and the Cloaked Figure had told them
all
to bring back the trophy.

Though I was sure that I should’ve clicked what Gamers Con was up to at that point, I just couldn’t make the leap, couldn’t work out the
spark
which would lead to the revelation, and knowing just what their motive had been.

I decided that I had to make peace with that too.

For now, I—
we
—had to venture through this challenge, bring back our parents.

It was funny. When I told them the part about their parents being captured—or me
suspecting
that our parents had been captured—I thought that might have got me a gasp or two . . . but no . . . everybody just seemed to take it in their stride.

Then again, I guessed that since Mr Yorbleson had forced us all into the Sirocco and into the
Final
that this might’ve seemed relatively minor to them in comparison.

Several times I thought that I could see the darkness thinning out—or parting completely—and I could’ve sworn that I caught sight of Alan, running away from us, on at least a dozen different occasions.

But it seemed to just be an illusion.

We—
all of us
—were simply running about in knee-high water, getting wetter and wetter, and chasing the shadows off into the darkness.

And that was when I felt the bottom falling away.

The solidness beneath my feet vanish.

It was the water growing deeper.

Yawning open to reveal the much wider ocean.

I knew this stage well—of course—that we would be required to duck down, go underwater, and walk the maze that was concealed down there.

But, at the same time, I knew that we
couldn’t
.

Unlike the character in
Labyrinths, Labyrinths
—a kind of fish-slash-duck if I remember right—we wouldn’t be able to breathe under the water.

We would drown.

And though I knew, from all my adventures into my Sirocco, that no harm would come to us in the real world, I also knew that if we died here we would be sent back
out of the game
. . . and our parents perhaps lost forever.

As the water became deeper still, I had to transition to swimming along the surface, doing a kind of doggie paddle when I could no longer touch the bottom.

The others paddled on alongside me.

And then we came up against a solid wall.

“It’s no good,” Kate said, “we’re going to have to go under.”

It was strange—I was so used to being a solitary gamer, being back in my own bedroom
alone
, that I’d sort of forgotten that games were for everyone, that everybody had similar experiences to my own . . . and that these three with me now—above all others—would no doubt have experiences, if not better than my own, then surely to rival them.

I looked to Chung and James.

Both of them nodded.

But neither of them looked enthusiastic about being the first to put his head under.

“Listen,” I said, “let’s make a deal now, okay?”

The other three all eyeballed me.

“If anything happens to one of us—on our way through the game—then it’s up to the rest, the ones who stay in the game, to save all the parents, okay?”

I waited for them to acknowledge that.

They all gave me shaky nods as they struggled to keep themselves above the surface—treading water to keep their chins dry.

But they all did nod.

And so, just like that, I ducked my head down.

Prepared to dive.

40

EVERYTHING got a lot simpler underwater.

I forced myself to keep my eyes open, that was the only sense I really had now.

My hearing was dampened by the water.

My sense of smell rendered the same.

The only thing that I could feel was the cool swill of the underwater currents which flowed around me.

It was only after about a minute or so that I realised I’d stopped breathing—that I no longer
needed
to breathe at all.

As if my body had forgotten.

Not that I was complaining.

Because if I’d had to obey all the natural rules of the real world here—in the Final of the Grand Tournament—then I knew I wouldn’t have had a chance in hell at saving my father.

As we descended, the others dropping down alongside me, I heard an odd
slashing
noise passing through the water.

I looked up.

Above now, there was no sign of the surface.

Just the black-blue gloom.

I turned to look below.

It was the same.

Side to side.

Nothing to see at all.

All I could make out was the other three descending alongside me.

I didn’t click onto what was going on—didn’t fully recall this specific aspect of
Labyrinths, Labyrinths
till that exact moment when I saw the mechashark burst from the shadows, tailing flicking, mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.

I looked to the others.

Read the alarm on their faces.

I could feel my heart beating harder and maybe, if I’d been able to, I would’ve screamed out loud.

I kicked my feet harder—thrashed with my arms—knowing that I needed to get moving downwards much faster.

When I looked up, I immediately regretted it.

Because I saw the mechashark there: steel, sharp all over, and
enormous
.

Easily big enough to swallow all three of us and fit us all in its belly.

I wondered, bleakly, if maybe it was already full-up.

If it had already eaten dinner . . . perhaps had a chomp on Alan.

But it soon turned out that it was
very much
hungry as it whipped its tail hard and began to circle us—its body moving quickly through the water.

I made a gesture for us all to stay close.

I was determined that if we did that, we might be able to frighten it away, or, at the very least, it wouldn’t be able to pick us off . . .
one by one
. . .

As we sank faster still, I began to be able to make out faint outlines down below my feet.

What I knew was the underwater maze at the seabed.

And where I guessed Alan was—where he was making great progress towards the trophy.

I looked to the others, pointed jaggedly down below us as if they might not have seen it for themselves.

But they were all more focussed on the shark.

And with good reason.

Because it had disappeared from view.

Simply slipped off somewhere—vanished into the shadows of the deep waters.

My heart stopped beating and I was sure—
certain
—that it was either above, below, or right beside me. I didn’t dare to look. And I waited for the blackness to come, to find myself thrown back out into the convention centre, back into that plastic shell to watch the rest of the tournament play out in much more realistic fashion than the spectators could ever realise.

But nothing happened.

I thought that I was okay.

That we had escaped.

And then, right at the moment when I began to propel myself downwards once more, I watched the shark burst from the depths, grab a hold of Chung’s leg and drag him off into the darkness which surrounded us.

It was so silent.

So deadly.

And yet I anticipated
something
—a
scream
—
anything at all
.

But, of course, we were still underwater.

I looked over James and Kate, caught their looks of total alarm.

I had to grab them both by their shirts to finally get their attention.

And I tugged them down after me.

It was only when we touched the bottom—entered the underwater maze—that I knew Chung was gone . . . that he had been
eliminated
from the Final tournament.

That it would be up to
us
to bring his mother back.

41

WE TRAIPSED OUR WAY through the underwater maze—and I found myself following after James. He seemed to be the one who knew this place the best out of all of us. So I guessed he must’ve clocked up some
very serious hours indeed
on
Labyrinths, Labyrinths
.

In fact, within five minutes, he got us to this odd, glistening dome area.

It was like an enormous bubble underwater.

I held back for a long while—just as Kate and James had held back from escaping the mechashark . . . and leaving Chung behind.

This time it was Kate and James who had to pull me into the bubble.

Suddenly, like passing my head through a waterfall, I emerged into an underwater space that acted and
seemed
just like walking on the land above.

A door stood ahead of us.

And it seemed the only way to go.

I turned to Kate and James, felt my heart wrench in my chest. “I’m sorry,” I said, “but we had to go, otherwise the mechashark would’ve taken us too.”

Neither Kate or James said anything for a few moments, and when one of them spoke, it was Kate who reached out and clasped hold of my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Zak,” she said. “we knew that this place was full of challenges—it
is
the Final of the Grand Tournament, after all.”

Up ahead, from behind the door, I heard an almighty
roar!

An extremely
ominous
roar!

And yet, at the same time, I knew there was no other choice.

I turned back to the others. “Sounds like Alan is just ahead of us—waking up the neighbours.”

The other two nodded.

I looked behind them, to the underwater maze we’d just found our way through, then I looked upwards, to the gloomy depths which surrounded us on all sides.

I knew—like always—there was only
one way
out of the Sirocco, and that was either by winning, or by losing . . . I guessed that—
this time
—there would be no glitches.

As I trod towards the door up ahead, and that roaring, I sensed James on one side of me, and Kate on the other, and I knew—with them along for the ride, a pair of
talented
gamers—we would have a chance of beating Alan.

42

THE DOOR CREAKED BACK on its hinges to reveal a sun-streaked world before us.

Rolling green hills, a castle in the distance.

Thick, stone blocks beneath our feet.

In short, a fantasy world all spread out before us.

I couldn’t help but give an enormous sigh as I looked to my left.

Horses.

Three of them.

I guessed that the game was working ahead of us—that it had decided already that Chung would be the one to die, and that would leave only three of us needing horses.

As I looked the horses over, I saw that there was a black one, a brown one and a grey one.

I’ve never really known all that much about horses.

They had their saddles all ready and I saw that each had what looked like a sword hanging off them.

I guess we were supposed to be playing knights.

I looked over at James, and then over to Kate, kind of striking a
sarcastic
look, as if asking them whether we were
really
going to have to go through with something as
lame
as this
. . . I mean
really
. . . I did twig that our parents were at stake, but still . . .

And maybe it was the promise that we made, back in
Labyrinths, Labyrinths
, that we agreed to find one another’s parents if it came to it.

Now, as I saw it, my responsibility was to bring back Chung’s mother—and if I was killed then it would be James—or
Kate’s
—responsibility to bring her back.

And so, using the wooden blocks helpfully provided at each horse, we clambered onto one each. With all of us sitting snug in the leather saddles, we cantered on along the green—almost
blue
—flowing grass and onwards towards the castle.

That seemed where we were
supposed to
head.

Only when we’d been riding for what felt like fifteen, twenty minutes did I start wondering just what game we were actually inhabiting.

For a moment, I just couldn’t twig it at all.

Didn’t twig it or have a chance to ask either Kate or James since I was gripping onto the mane of my horse and trying not to fall off and break my neck.

We rose over the crest of the hill that looked over the castle.

Then
I realised where we were.

Which game this was.

Everland Rubies II: The Twinkled Star

Of course it was.

It was just how it’d been dressed up that had thrown me.

Everland Rubies
did take place in a fantasy setting but you really didn’t get to see that much of it. The game itself was a strategy game, one of those ones with lots of colourful shapes dropping down a two-dimensional screen . . . well, I say
two
-dimensional but the truth is that there are some points in the game when the screen
flips
and you get to play another side of the puzzle . . .

There was another thing that seemed lacking to me.

And without which, I didn’t feel truly comfortable.

Then I heard it.

The hard, throat-trembling
roar!

43

UP ABOVE OUR HEADS, I saw the dragon.

I remembered from somewhere—sometime
long, long
ago
when I’d actually been bored enough to pick up
Everland Rubies
and stick it in my Sirocco—that the dragon had a name for itself.

I didn’t remember it now, though.