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Brittany grabbed my wrist just as I caught her elbow, and we bolted, our sneakers squealing across the floor.

We rounded the corner at full speed, just as the lights came back on.

Both of us stopped so abruptly that we almost fell.

Standing directly in front of the only exit was a person cloaked in all blac k with a hood up and sporting gloves.

Their face was concealed behind an LED mask that glitched between a laughing face and a skull.

“Running’s no fun if there’s nowhere to run,” the voice drawled, mechanical and slick with menace.

We backed up immediately, steps matched, instincts flaring. I sensed it before I saw him over Brittany’s shoulder. Our crow was behind us. How had he gotten in here without us hearing?

Brittany sucked in a sharp breath, her grip on my arm tightening. “Wait, they can’t do anything yet. The Hunt hasn’t started! They don’t have the hours, and—.”

She screamed as the person in front of us lunged.

We broke apart, her going right and me left, back into a row of lockers. I made it to the end and was circling the bench when Dennis slammed into me, arms padded and heavy, locking tight around my waist before I could fall, carrying me backward.

Fighting him was like trying to fight off a moving boulder because of his damn bird suit.

He hauled me along like I weighed nothing, but I didn’t make it easy.

I caught a flash of Brittany being backhanded.

Before she could hit the ground, the masked fucker carrying out the assault took hold of her by the hair and started dragging her in the same direction Dennis was going.

It was the shower area, and I didn’t understand why until I saw that in place of what should have been a wall, there was a tunnel. The darkness beyond it yawned open like a mouth.

No way in hell.

“Get the fuck off of me, Dennis!”

I fought harder, digging my heels into the tile. “Stop fighting!” he yelled, shaking me so hard my teeth rattled.

This idiot tried and failed to disguise his voice, but it was too high-pitched, cracking at the edges, and giving him away.

Using the tight grip he still had around my waist like a brace, I kicked both feet up and slammed them into the nearest wall.

Dennis staggered back, clutching me so tightly it felt like my ribs were about to crack.

We hit the ground--hard.

Dennis let me go with a grunt, the bulk of his mascot suit slowing him down enough that he couldn’t jump right back up. I didn’t waste the chance. Using the momentum from the fall, I launched myself back to my feet, twisting low and fast like I was coming out of a cradle.

Then I was on the second guy, slamming into him with all the weight and speed I had.

“Let her go!”

We all crashed to the ground, bodies tangling. I drove my elbow into his ribs, used the tile to my advantage, rolling us over so I could knee him in the gut. He grunted, grip faltering. Brittany broke free with an angry scream.

“Britt—GO!” I urged.

She took off at a sprint without looking back.

I was tossed aside so the masked guy could pursue her.

I tried to stop then, but Dennis had finally regained his footing in time.

He kicked out, catching the backs of my legs.

I went down again like a shot, the floor slamming the air from my lungs.

Before I could scramble up, his thick, padded arms wrapped around my middle again, half-dragging, half-hauling me backward toward the tunnel.

“Let me go,” I pleaded.

My hair clung to my face, sweat stinging my eyes, every step jarring. I clawed at him uselessly, my hands slipping against the silky fabric.

We crossed the threshold.

The air turned colder. Damper and heavier, as if the walls were exhaling rot. The sleek floor gave way to rough, aged stone. The light from the locker room began to dwindle away. My heart thrashed in my chest, violent and desperate.

Dennis’s voice came out cracked and breathless. “Not so elite now, are you?”

White-hot rage cut through my terror.

I had never been anything but kind to him, and this was what it got me?

Fueled by fury and adrenaline. I twisted, throwing my weight to the side. I swung an elbow back, aiming for where his jaw should be beneath the ridiculous beak.

His grip loosened when I connected.

I dropped my weight like I knew to do when the bases got shaky, catching him off guard. Finally free, I spun into a full-bodied shoulder slam. He went down, padded arms flailing.

“Bitch!” he raged.

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a comeback.

I ran.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever moved so fast in my life, stumbling through the dark over uneven ground before bursting back into the locker room like I’d clawed my way out of the grave.

My legs barely felt connected to the rest of me.

I sprinted toward the door and nearly ripped it off its hinges with how hard I yanked it open.

Then I slammed into a wall of muscle.

Strong hands gripped my arms, steadying me.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Dougie’s voice cut through the haze.

I clutched his shirt like it was the only thing tethering me to the present. My chest heaved. My lungs burned.

“Tunnel,” I rasped, barely audible. “He dragged me into the tunnel—Dennis—.”

Within seconds, we were surrounded. Cheerleaders, football players, voices climbing over one another in shock and confusion.

Brittany rushed over first, wild-eyed and still breathless, a fresh bruise blooming on her cheek. Her boyfriend reeled her back in, holding her like he’d lose her again if he let go.

Layla pushed through with Sydney and Zara.

Noah and Kellan followed, scanning the scene like they were waiting for someone to drop a bomb.

Ryder came straight for me with our friends on his heels, cutting through the crowd like it didn’t exist. Dougie gently passed me off to him.

His hands framed my face, tilting it up, his eyes drinking me in, checking for damage.

I felt the weight of the stares—his teammates, mine, and the coaches.

I didn’t care.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

“I’ll be sore,” I managed. “But I’m okay. Britt got it worse. And—.” I shook my head. “When the hell was someone going to mention the creepy-ass tunnel connected to our locker room?”

Sydney’s eyes went wide. “What tunnel?”

Zara blinked. “There wasn’t a tunnel when we first got here.”

Mrs. Gale pushed forward through the crowd, face pale, mouth pressed into a tight line. “They’re using the tunnels already?” She immediately straightened like she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Roxxi’s head whipped toward her. “What the fuck do you mean already?”

Cloe wisely took hold of her before she assaulted our cheer coach. Ari moved closer to me.

“They were sealed off last year,” Mrs. Gale explained, her voice taut. “We weren’t informed they were reopened. You can only open them from the inside—they blend into the walls.”

“And you didn’t think to fucking mention that at any point?” Roxxi snapped.

If I hadn’t just been yanked through one, I’d be more concerned about her revelation.

“Well, people came through it and Dennis was one of them,” Brittany seethed, jaw clenched.

Gasps rippled through our audience.

“Dennis?”

“No way.”

“He’s weird, but come on…”

“How would he even know about the tunnels?”

I turned my head and saw a guy who had nothing to do with football or cheerleading recording.

Xander followed my stare and walked right up to him, plucking his phone from his hand without saying a word.

He hurled it straight to the ground. The screen shattered on impact.

He crushed it with his cleat to shatter it entirely.

The guy cursed, crouching to grab up the pieces when Xander walked back to us.

“Stay with the girls,” Ryder ordered softly. His thumbs brushed the edges of my jaw before he released me.

“Rye,” I started, reaching for him, but he was already moving.

Roxxi pulled me closer, her hand tightening around mine. Cloe and Ari flanked me immediately, their eyes scanning me like Ryder had just done.

He, Cade, Xander, Dougie, and a few more broke from the crowd, entering the girls’ locker room with one shared goal. The football coaches started trying to reassert control, but no one was paying them any attention.

Roxxi turned to Mrs. Gale. “Almost all of us are Marked. I suggest you make this right, and so it never happens again before anymore of our squad gets dragged through your tunnels.”

One of the assistant football coaches stepped forward—Mr. Crane. Thick-necked. Square-jawed. Perpetually annoyed. “It’s not our place to get involved, Miss Sterling.”

“Then make it your place,” she countered coolly.

Together, we walked away from the mess of it all and the endless speculation already circulating.

The evening chill was sinking through my uniform now that I wasn’t moving.

I wrapped my arms tighter around my middle, but it didn’t help much.

There was still no sign of the others, and Brooke was damn near in tears about it.

I leaned against Ryder’s truck, Cloe beside me, Roxxi on my other side, with Ari tucked close to my left.

Layla and Sydney stood a few feet off, huddled together for warmth.

Most of the other cheerleaders had taken off once the locker room was cleared.

Brooke’s voice broke the silence. “I hope Ryder’s okay.”

Cloe shifted, voice low, meant only for me. “He’s not the one I’m worried about.”

Brooke started pacing. “They’ve been in there for a long time.”

“They’re fine,” Roxxi said flatly, resting her head on my shoulder.

“I just hate not knowing what’s happening,” Brooke worried.

So did I.