Jasper Reed, a tech guy? My brain lit up like a malfunctioning arcade machine. No way that was a coincidence. "Tim, you thinking what I'm thinking?" I said, my voice low. "Jasper's into computers, maybe even coding. What if he's the missing link to the death game?"
Tim's eyes narrowed, his mystic calm cracking. "Too neat to be random. Lila coming here, Jasper's tech past—it's connected. She must've known about him, but how?"
That was the million-dollar question. Lila wasn't exactly a hacker, so how'd she track down a shady coder in Creepsville, USA? And where the hell was Ryan? My head was a pinata, and every new clue was another swing. The old man, still puffing my smokes like he was auditioning for a Marlboro ad, grinned. "Jasper was a big shot in the city. Had a hotshot girlfriend, too—brought her to the village a while back. Haven't seen her since."
My jaw dropped. "Girlfriend? Like, recently?" Another puzzle piece, another headache. Jasper wasn't just a ghost in the machine—he had a whole soap opera going.
The old man's wife called from inside, and he shuffled off, leaving us with more questions than a Jeopardy! lightning round. Tim and I leaned against the shuttered general store, brains fried. "This is nuts," I said. "We've got Jasper, a tech wizard who's MIA, Lila on the run, Ryan ghosting us, and a zombie granny running a corpse Etsy shop. Where do we even start?"
A wild thought hit me, chilling my bones. "Tim, that body in the shack—the one all mummified up. What if it's Jasper? What if he's the game's patient zero, and Granny turned him into her undead Roomba?"
Tim's face went grim, his hand rubbing his chin like a discount Sherlock. "Possible. If Jasper's tied to the game, his death—or undeath—could be the key. We need to check that shack again tonight."
I groaned, picturing the gauze-wrapped corpse. "Great. Back to the zombie Airbnb. Can't wait." But the idea stuck. If Jasper was the corpse, it explained Lila's trip here—and maybe why the game was hell-bent on killing us all.
Tim banged on the old man's door again, undeterred. After a long wait, the guy reappeared, looking like we'd asked to borrow his tractor. "What now?" he grumbled.
"Sorry, pops," Tim said, all business. "One more thing. There's an old lady down the main road, lives in a shack, rides a tricycle. Know her?"
The old man's face tightened, his eyes darting like he'd seen a ghost himself. "Don't know her. Nobody lives there. That place is cursed—stay away." He tried to shut the door, but I wedged my foot in, pulling out my last cigarette. "Come on, man, one smoke, one story. What's the deal?"
He sighed, snatching the cig like it was the Holy Grail. "Fine. That shack's bad news. Old woman died there years ago—nasty business. Now folks say she rides that damn tricycle at night, hunting for… replacements. Don't go near it, I'm begging ya." He slammed the door, leaving us in the dust.
Tim's jaw clenched. "Village knows about Granny. She's no secret, but they're scared stiff. Her ghost—or whatever she is—ties to the game's curse."
I nodded, my stomach churning. "Hunting replacements? Sounds like the game's MO—substitute souls. But why's she refining corpses? And where's Lila in this mess?"
We headed back to the main road, the morning sun doing little to warm the creepy vibe. I checked my phone for the time—and froze. Full bars, and six missed calls from Ryan. "What the—?!" I said, showing Tim. "Last night, we had zero signal at the shack. Now it's like I'm on 5G steroids!"
Tim's phone was the same—full signal, no explanation. "The shack's a dead zone," he muttered. "Supernatural interference, maybe." I didn't argue; after the mummy fiasco, I was ready to believe in alien Wi-Fi.
I dialed Ryan, my heart pounding. "Dude, where are you?!" I barked the second he picked up. "You ditched us at the shack!"
"Me ditch you?" Ryan snapped. "You guys vanished! I waited, then hauled ass to the village entrance. Get here, now—sh*t's hit the fan."
"Entrance?" I said, already jogging. "What happened?"
"Just move!" he growled, hanging up. I filled Tim in, and we sprinted, the road stretching like a bad dream. A passing tractor rumbled by, and Tim flagged it down. "Yo, buddy, give us a lift to the entrance? Pretty please?"
The driver, a grizzled guy chewing a straw, shrugged. "Hop on. Entrance only." We clung to the back, the bumpy ride shaking my nerves loose.
At the village gate, a crowd buzzed under the Hollow Vale sign, their murmurs tense. My gut sank—another body? Tim cursed under his breath, pushing through the onlookers. Ryan stood by a tarp-covered lump, his face grim as a tax audit. "About time," he said, spotting us. "Take a look."
The air reeked, a familiar stench that hit like a punch. "That's the shack smell," I whispered, my skin crawling. "The corpse… it's here?" Ryan nodded, pulling me aside. "I waited at the shack forever last night, figured you were dead. Went to the car, slept it off. Woke up to this—crowd, body, the works. Cops are on the way, but this ain't fresh. Been dead a while, dumped here."
I swallowed hard, my mind replaying the shack's mummy. "Ryan, last night, we heard a noise—thought it was you signaling. But you were at the car? Then who…?" I spilled the whole story—the wrapped corpse, Granny's return, the creepy ritual. "Tim says it's 'corpse refinement,' like making undead minions. I think this body's the one we saw."
Ryan's eyes flicked to Tim, who was studying the crowd. "Minions, huh? Tim's got an answer for everything, but he's not exactly batting a thousand. Lila's still missing, and he's leading us on this zombie scavenger hunt."
I sighed, torn. "Yeah, but without him, we'd be clueless. He's shady, but he's all we've got." Ryan's skepticism was valid, but Tim's corpse talk matched the shack's horror show. I needed both of them, even if they were oil and water.
The local cops rolled up, looking like they'd rather be fishing. As they lifted the tarp, I peeked—and grabbed Ryan's arm, my breath catching. The face, pale and gaunt, was the same gauze-wrapped nightmare from the shack, black-ringed eyes and all. "That's him," I choked out. "The shack corpse. But how's it here?"
Ryan's face darkened. "Someone moved it. Granny, maybe—or whoever's pulling the game's strings." The crowd whispered, their fear palpable. Lila was still out there, and this body was a warning: the game wasn't done playing.