The Hunt of Altswood High (The Altswood Saga #1)

Chapter 4 - Shadow

Chapter 4 - Shadow

For the next two days, I was teetering on the sharp side of a razor blade: just one wrong twitch, and I would lose balance.

I even paid attention in class instead of walking through them like a living daydream, paranoid that if I as much as blinked for too long, bad things would happen. 

I remained jittery while everyone else had calmed down from Maddison's demise. I jumped when someone accidentally dropped their textbook on the floor; I yelped when someone touched my shoulder to get my attention.

My heart probably sped up to breakneck speed twice an hour.

I couldn't stay still this morning in particular, my fingers tapping away while students filed into English, the first class. I was sitting alone, at the very front by the door. Probably not the best seat, but I couldn't bring myself to think about social anxiety on top of everything already.

Talk had spread that Daphne was back in school, taking up position to maintain the game again. It was Friday—the last day to sign up for the Hunt. And I had half a mind to.

Altswood High had a student count of 176, according to its brochure. 170 were playing, according to the announcement that the Principal just made, urging people to sign up before it was too late. I was almost certain that the people who still hadn't signed up, excluding me, either had broken bones or never even came to school. That didn't look too good for me.

Tradition was tradition, and on a lazy, sleepy island, a game of adrenaline for teenagers was the most exciting thing to happen every year.

Along with that, Dad and his team had gotten nowhere in their investigation to find Maddison's killer. I had told him yesterday that maybe I could dig around at school, find out if her friends know anything they might have forgotten to give in their statement.

"Absolutely no way," Dad had said firmly.

"Why not?" I argued. "It's not dangerous. I'm not suggesting I help you solve it. I'm simply saying I could do some spying."

"No."

"You're the one who said Danny wasn't telling the whole truth!"

"I think his name is Manny," he corrected.

I gave him a lengthy stare, silently pleading. It didn't work.

"No."

"Come on! I can weasel my way into the crowd easily enough."

"Luca," Dad sighed. "You have to understand that it is very likely that whoever killed Maddison Peters is walking among your high school right now. The chances that one of her friends did it is high, and going near any of them before the case closes is dangerous."

"You have no leads," I argued. "Are you just going to wait for them to strike again?"

I had been kidding, but Dad's expression said that I had hit the spot completely.

"No way," I exclaimed. "You actually are."

Dad sighed. "Look, that message implied the killer is definitely going to strike again. The real Hunt has begun. Maddison's death was simply a declaration. It is very, very likely this killer is an Altswood student playing the game who will kill their targets instead of shooting them with a paintball gun."

I rested my cheek on my palm. "But that means all the players are in danger. Shouldn't the school call it off?"

"It's just a hunch, Luca," Dad said. "None of us can confirm that this will happen, and we have no proof. Which—" he pointed his finger at me, "—is why you should stay away from that game."