"Smith, L J - Forbidden Game 1 - The Hunter e-txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Lisa J)

Because the truth was that Jenny had a nightmare. Her own, personal, particular nightmare, based on
something that had happened long ago ... and she couldn't remember it. She could never remember it when she was awake.
The bad feeling was coming on, the one she sometimes got late at night. The scared feeling. Was she the only person in the world who woke up in the middle of the night sure that she'd discovered some awful secret-only, once she'd awakened, she couldn't remember what it was? Who felt sick with fear over something she couldn't remember?
A picture flickered through her mind. Her grandfather. Her mother's father. Thinning white hair, a kind face, tired, twinkling dark eyes. He had entertained her when she was five years old with souvenirs from far-off places and magic tricks that had seemed real to a child. His basement had been full of the most wonderful things. Until the day something had happened....
That last horrible day . ..
The flicker died, and Jenny was glad. The only thing worse than not remembering was remembering. It was better to just leave the whole thing buried. The therapists had said differently at the time, but what did they know?
Anyway, she certainly couldn't draw it.
The others were all sketching assiduously. Tom and Dee were snickering together, using the lid of the game box as a desk. Summer was laughing, shaking back her soft light curls, drawing something with a lot of different colors. Zach was frowning over his nightmare, his face even more intense than usual; Audrey's eyebrows were arched in amusement.
"Where's green? I need lots of green," said Michael, hunting among the crayons.
"What for?" asked Audrey, eyes narrowed.
"Can't tell you. It's a secret."
Audrey turned her back on him, shielding her own paper.
"That's right, they're secrets," Dee agreed. "You don't get to see them until you reach the room they're in."
Nobody here could possibly have a secret from me, Jenny thought. Except Audrey, I've known them all forever. I know when they lost their first tooth and got their first bra. None of them could have a real secret-like mine.
If she had one, why not the others?
Jenny looked at Tom. Handsome Tom, headstrong and a little arrogant, as even Jenny had to admit, if only to herself. What was he drawing now?
"Mine needs green, too. And yellow," he said.
"Mine needs black," said Dee and chuckled.
"All right, done," Audrey said.
"Come on, Jenny," Tom said. "Aren't you finished yet?"
Jenny looked down at her paper. She had made a formless doodle around the edges; the middle was blank. After an embarrassed moment with everyone's eyes on her, she turned the paper over and gave it to Dee. She would just have to explain later.
Dee shuffled all the slips and put them facedown in various rooms on the upper floors. "Now we put our paper dolls in the parlor downstairs," she said. "That's where we all start. And there should be a pile of game cards in the box, Summer, to tell us what to do and where to move. Put them in a stack on the table."
Summer did while Audrey fixed the paper dolls on their little plastic anchors and set them up in the parlor.
"We need just one more thing," Dee said. She paused dramatically and then said, "The Shadow Man."
"Here he is," Summer said, picking up the last sheet of stiff tagboard from the box. "I'll cut out his friends first-the Creeper and the Lurker." She did, then handed the figures to Audrey. The Creeper was a giant snake, the Lurker a bristling wolf. Their names were printed in blood-red calligraphy.
"Charming," Audrey said, snapping anchors on. "Anywhere in particular I'm supposed to put them, Dee?"
"No, the cards will tell us when we meet them."
"Here's the Shadow Man. He can shadow me if he wants; I think he's cute," Summer said. Audrey took the paper doll from her, but as she did Jenny grabbed her wrist. Jenny couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe, actually.
It couldn't be-but it was. There was no question about it. The printed face that stared up at her was unmistakable.
It was the boy in black, the boy from the game store. The boy with the shocking blue eyes.
4
Jenny felt as if a black riptide was trying to suck her underwater. It was him. The boy from the game store. Every detail of his face was reproduced perfectly, but it wasn't a photograph. It was a drawing, like the snake and the wolf. The boy's hair was colored silvery-white with blue shadows. The artist had even captured his dark eyelashes. The portrait was so lifelike it looked as if those eyes might blink at any minute, as if the lips might speak.
And it radiated menace. Danger.
"What's the matter?" Audrey was saying. Her face swam in and out of focus as Jenny looked up. Jenny's eyes fixed on the beauty mark just above Audrey's upper lip. Audrey's lips were moving, but it was a minute before Jenny could make sense of the words. "What's wrong, Jenny?"
What could Jenny say?
I know this guy. I saw him at the store. He's a real
person, not some made-up character in a game. So...
So what? That's what they would ask her. What difference did it make? So the game must have been invented by somebody who knew the guy, and the guy had modeled for the picture. That would explain why the box was blank: Maybe it wasn't even a real, mass-produced game at all.
Or maybe the guy was crazy, had a fixation with this particular game, and had bleached his hair and dressed up to look like the game character. Dungeons and Dragons, Jenny thought suddenly-people were supposed to get heavily into that, sometimes even go overboard. That's the answer.
At least, it was the answer somebody here tonight would give. Tom, maybe, because Jenny could tell he wanted to play, and once Tom made up his mind on anything, he was immovable. Dee, because danger always kicked her. Zach, because the game involved art; or Summer, because she thought it was "cute." They all wanted to play.
A good hostess didn't get hysterical and ruin a party because she had shadows on the brain.
Jenny forced a smile.
"Nothing," she said, letting go of Audrey's wrist. "Sorry. I thought I recognized that picture. Silly, huh?"
"You been drinking the cough syrup again?" Michael inquired from the other side of the table.
"Are you all right, Thorny? Really?" Tom asked seriously. His green-flecked eyes searched hers, and Jenny felt her smile become more stable. She nodded. "Fine," she said firmly.
Tom got up and dimmed the track lighting.
"Hey," said Michael.
"We need it dark," Dee told them, "for this next part. The reading of the oath." She cut a glance at them, the whites of her eyes shining like smoky pearls.
'What oath?" Michael said warily.
"The Oath of the Game," Tom said. His voice was sinister. "It says here that we each have to swear that we're playing this game of our own free will, and that the game is real." Tom turned the lid of the box around for them to see. On the inside cover, above the printed instructions, was a large symbol. It was like a squared-off and inverted U, the two uneven horns of the letter pointing downward. It was deeply impressed in the cover and colored-as well as Jenny could tell in the dim light-rusty red.