‘Ms. Kelly, this is LAPD Robbery Homicide Division Captain Barbara Blake. What do you mean – wrapped up pretty tight?’

‘Well, one of the tricks in our arsenal is that we can shut down any web transmission inside US territory.’

‘So shut this thing down.’

A nervous chuckle. ‘We tried. It just pops up again.’

‘What? How?’

‘I’m not sure how much you understand about web technology, and I don’t want to just throw tech language at you, but the site’s IP address changes constantly.’

‘Like bouncing a call?’ the captain asked.

‘That’s right. Each new IP address is an exploited server that runs a mirror image of the real one. It’s like looking at someone’s reflection inside a room packed with mirrors. You see hundreds of identical images, but you can never tell exactly where the real image is coming from. Are you with me so far?’

‘Yes.’

‘OK. The server also uses an extremely low TTL – time-to-live – which is what dictates how long it will be until your computer refreshes its DNS-related information.’

‘Sorry . . .?’

‘It just means that your computer is constantly asking the server for the website’s address, and every time it does, the server points your computer to a different mirror. So even if we managed to shut one down, it would make no difference, because the server would just show your computer the same website via a different mirror. It’s technically complicated, but that means that whoever is behind this is a damn fine coder, a programmer with a fantastic knowledge of cyberspace.’

CLOCK – 3:21, 3:20, 3:19 . . .

BURIED – 644.

EATEN – 710.

‘The name register and the domain servers are all in Taiwan,’ Michelle added. ‘Which adds another level of complication to the equation. As you probably know, since the island nation was claimed by the mainland People’s Republic of China, Taiwan is not recognized as an independent country by the US, meaning we have no diplomatic relations with the Taiwanese.’

‘How are so many people finding this website so fast?’ Garcia asked. ‘Pickadeath.com isn’t exactly the kind of address people will type in by chance.’

‘We’ve already checked it,’ Michelle said. ‘He used social networks. He hijacked other people’s accounts and placed a message on some very popular Twitter and Facebook pages. Those pages get several hundred thousand hits a day. People see the message and curiosity takes over; consequently, they go check it out. Now the reason why people are voting might be because they don’t think this is real. They might think this is a hoax site, or some new type of “click-and-explore” game.’ Michelle paused for breath. ‘There’s also the fact that there are a hell of a lot of sadistic people out there. Some of them would happily eat popcorn and swig at a beer while watching American citizens being tortured to death. And if they are allowed to participate, even better.’

‘Is there anything stopping people from voting more than once?’ Garcia asked.

‘Yes,’ Michelle replied. ‘Once you click one of the two buttons, both of them get deactivated. No one can vote twice.’

‘How do you know?’ It was Captain Blake this time.

‘Because we tried it.’

‘You voted on a death method?’

‘Unfortunately, yes,’ Michelle explained, but she wasn’t being apologetic. ‘We came across the website before we got the call from Dennis. We didn’t know what we were dealing with. We were trying to figure it out.’

The woman on the screen removed her hands from her face. Blood and tears had created strange designs on her cheeks, but fear had shocked her into an almost tranquil state. Her eyes weren’t searching anymore; instead they were now coated with immense sadness. Hunter had seen that look before, and he felt as if his stomach was being sucked into a large black hole. Just like the first victim, as if aided by a sixth sense, she had realized that no one would come for her, that she would never get out of that box alive.

A feeling of total helplessness hit everybody at the same time, because everyone had their eyes on their screens.

CLOCK – 1:58, 1:57, 1:56 . . .

BURIED – 923.

EATEN – 999.

Twenty-Seven

It took only a split second, but it felt like an eternity. BURIED changed first, three numbers in quick succession – 924, 925, 926.

Inside Hunter’s office everyone held their breath.

And then it happened.

EATEN – 1000.

As soon as the number changed it started flashing on the screen, announcing to everyone that they had a winner.

No one moved. No one blinked.

On the phone, Michelle Kelly and Dennis Baxter had also gone quiet.

On the screen the woman was still crying. Her hands were still shaking and bleeding.

The seconds ticked away.

Everyone waited.

Suddenly, from the black tube attached to the glass coffin Hunter had noticed earlier, something small and dark shot out and flew across the woman’s body.

‘What the hell was that?’ Captain Blake asked, her gaze ping-ponging between Hunter and Garcia. ‘Did you all see that?’

‘I saw it,’ Garcia replied. ‘But I have no idea what it was.’

Hunter was concentrating on the screen.

Then it happened again. Something shot out of the black tube with tremendous speed.

The woman twitched as if someone had abruptly shaken her awake from a trance. She looked down along the coffin toward her feet. It was obvious she couldn’t see anything, but whatever it was that was now inside the glass enclosure with her had brought her panic back, and then multiplied it by ten. She twitched again, this time a lot more desperately. She ran her hands against her body, almost slapping it, as if frantically trying to brush something off of her.

Three, four, five more entered the glass coffin via the attached tube.

‘Are those some sort of flying insects?’ the captain asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ Hunter said. ‘Maybe.’

‘Can insects eat someone alive?’

‘Some would be able to, yes,’ Hunter answered. ‘Certain ants and termite species can feed on flesh, but you would need several thousands of them in there, and none of them moves that fast or looks that big.’

The woman’s face contorted into a look of agonizing pain. Her eyes squeezed tight and her mouth kicked open to let out a scream that no one could hear, only imagine.

‘Oh my God,’ Captain Blake said. Both of her hands moved toward her mouth. ‘Whatever those things are, they are eating her alive. This can’t be happening.’

The woman lost control as terror took over. She was desperately kicking her legs and, despite the cramped space, doing what she could to wave her hands across her body and face.

At once, at least fifty new flying insects were dumped into the coffin via the attached tube.

‘Oh Jesus Christ.’ They all heard Michelle say over the phone.

The camera zoomed in on one of the flying insects, and everyone froze.

It was about two inches long, with a blue-black body and raven-black wings. Its serrated, thin legs were just as long as its body. A pair of black antennas protruded from its head.

‘Oh, fuck!’ Garcia said, feeling a cold shiver travel down his spine. He took an awkward step back, as if he’d seen something no one else had. All of a sudden he looked like he was about to be sick.

Twenty-Eight

For an instant Hunter and Captain Blake’s eyes left the screen and homed in on Garcia.