Maxum

No one in their right mind goes into the wilderness around Maryfield, a forgotten town in Oregon. Or so Zach Taylor thought, until his friend Jason sneaks him into a private event called The Masked Investor—held at a mansion deep in the woods.

The night is spectacular. Red carpet trails, neon-glowing spotlights, CEOs in ornate masks, and a chance to connect with Sarah—his former best friend … also Jason’s girlfriend. 

Amid dancing under holographic stars and negotiating with billionaires, Zach finds Jason having a whispered discussion in a conservatory “off-limits” to guests. 

That’s when Zach sees them—the animals. 

A deer with serrated teeth. 

A duck with horns. 

A crow with scales.

The words of a brown-masked investor buzz in his ear like a trapped fly: Human. Human. Human. 

A dagger is pointed at Jason’s throat.

Zach smells something sweet—sweet like anesthesia. 

Everything goes dark.

“Welcome to Human Integration Organization.” 

Chapter 1: 

The Masked Investor

I sit on the curb in my dad’s old work suit, pulling at the dead grass in my family’s driveway. I prefer to be outside when my mom is gone, and that’s often the case since she picked up an extra shift at Lamb’s Market. The letters keep coming in the mail, most with red ink on the front, unpaid balances ranging from fifties to thousands. Only one thing might fix it—my dad’s Memory Insertion company he worked on before he died. Tonight, I’m getting the money to make it happen. 

The sound of squealing tires jolts me to attention. A Porsche comes to a halt in front of me, the doors rising like the wings of a blue jay. Jason smiles from the driver’s seat, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. His dad is loaded, but I doubt the man is dumb enough to lend him a sports car. 

 “Where’d you get the ride?” I say, getting up off the curb.

“Borrowed it.” 

“Borrowed it?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Look, Zach, we’ve gotta blend in tonight.”

“Fine.” I roll my eyes, sliding my bag under the seat, trying not to picture a cop pulling us over. Two teens in a stolen Porsche? Not the best on college apps. 

Jason revs the engine, a low growl.

I shake my head, a smile forming on my lips. 

We accelerate down the street, blowing through the stop sign. First time in a Porsche, might as well live a little. I crank up the music—‘80s as always. There’s something empowering about that generation, or maybe it just reminds me of my brother Damien, who played it in the room across from mine. 

As soon as we’re out of my neighborhood, I roll down the window to catch the winter breeze on my face. My skin turns numb. I forget about Damien. I forget about my stupid life. I smack the side of the Porsche with the cuff of my suit jacket, willing it to go faster.

Jason does just that. 

Wind whips through my hair. I feel alive again.

We hit a tight bend in the road, and I hold onto the handle. “Sarah’s coming too, right?” 

Jason’s grip tightens on the steering wheel as we stop at a red light. “Yeah, but her parents grounded her from seeing me.”

“Dang. Serious?”

Jason nods. I know not to pry further. There was a point in our friendship when most of our conversations became nonverbal. We’ve become something of a mismatched duo since we both transferred to Maryfield halfway through freshman year. Jason came from wealth, I didn’t. Jason is shorter, I’m taller. Jason has light hair, I have dark hair. Jason has a girlfriend, I don’t. None of our differences seemed to matter, though. Being seniors now, I don’t want to move on to college because I can’t imagine life without him.

“Do me a favor?” Jason lowers the blaring music. “Can you get her while I swing around?”

“Didn’t you just say she was grounded?”

The light turns green. 

“Yeah. I know. But it was just a …” Jason stalls for a second, his hand going to his hair. “It was just a missed curfew. And it was only once, okay, maybe twice. And only for seeing me. Can ya bail me out?”

I watch the evergreen trees grow thicker near Montgomery Park, the Oregon mist shrouding their spiny tips. We’re nearing Sarah’s place. “Fine, but only this time.” 

“Knew you’d come around.” Jason slams the brakes in front of her driveway.

“So much for being stealthy.”

“You’ll be fine. I texted her, so she’ll be ready. Let’s meet across the park.”

I jump out of the car; the ground feels like it’s spinning after Jason’s wild ride. The tires slip as the Porsche zooms around the block. I would’ve laughed, but I’ve heard the stories of Sarah’s dad. One time, he deflated all four of Jason’s tires so he could personally chaperone them on a “movie date.” Apparently, once they got to the theater, he stayed in the back row and watched all the way to the final credits. Needless to say, I have no intention of getting caught tonight.

I hop over the picket fence that lines the property and push the black garbage bin toward Sarah’s room. I’ve seen Jason do this a few times before. A swarm of flies emerges like bees from a beehive, and I bat them away.

The wheels squeak.

Darn it. I stop to listen.

I push it another inch forward.

Squeak.

I pause and then push it again.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Why’d I agree to this? I stop just below her room. A light is on in the window, and a shadow moves closer behind the blinds. Light-blue fingernails pull up the screen. She doesn’t usually paint them. 

“Heads up!” 

A black backpack flies out, and I catch it before it hits the ground. Moments later, feet dangle out the windowsill. She’s wearing sneakers with her dress, classic Sarah attire. Jason buys her a new color of shoes every month since they started dating. 

She narrows her eyes from the window. “Zach?”

I shrug, equally confused why I’m here.

“Don’t look up.”

We lock eyes for a second, and I look away. She drops onto the trash can lid, stumbling over the fabric of her blue dress. The bin wobbles, and I reach out to steady it, but it isn’t enough. I catch Sarah before she falls, and the trash can tips over. Glass shatters to the ground, followed by a hurricane of half-eaten salami and green milk (that looks like the end of the Captain Crunch bowl I ate for dinner). 

The front door opens, then slams. “Who’s out there?”

Sarah grabs my arm and pulls me behind a bush. She’s so fast, I wonder how many times she’s done this with Jason. 

“You better speak up.” Mr. Harper clicks a shotgun into place, his feet drawing closer—heavy thumps supporting his round belly.

I shiver under my white dress shirt, cursing myself for listening to Jason. 

Sarah points across the street toward Montgomery Park. I reposition myself in that direction, taking care not to touch Sarah, who is crouched close enough I can hear her breathe. Jason’s car is on the opposite end of the park, so we’ll have to run. I step forward, but Sarah pulls me back.

Mr. Harper comes into view, investigating the Captain Crunch milk on the other side of the bush. “Jason, I swear … if you’re out here …”

I’m close enough to see his nose hairs. 

Sarah pulls out her keys from her pocket and clicks the alarm button. The lights on her Prius flash and her dad turns, sniffs the air like a hunting dog, and bounds toward the driveway. 

A perfect distraction.

We dart across the street toward Montgomery Park, the grass absorbing our noise. I would’ve kept running, but Sarah tugs me from behind. “You can stop now.”

“Your dad is insane.” I take in a breath of the night air, brushing off my black pants. They still need to look good tonight. There’s supposedly going to be a ton of billionaires at the Masked Investor event, and, if I’m lucky enough, one of them might pick up my project. 

“You were sooo scared of my dad.” Sarah laughs, pulling brambles out of her dirty blonde hair. “He’s as harmless as a fly.”

“Really? Last I checked, he had a freakin’ gun.”

“It’s just a prop. It’s not even loaded.”

“Well, I guess it did its job.” I fake chuckle as we enter the woodlands of the park. We cross a bridge, leaving mud tracks on the planks—sneakers alongside dress shoes. I haven’t been alone with Sarah for nearly a year since Jason started dating her. We used to meet up at a spot close to this bridge and skip stones in the creek, talking about how life could be different, better, if we made it through high school. On a day about as cold as this one, she tripped into the water and dragged me down with her. We floated there in jeans and T-shirts, splashing back and forth despite our shivering lips. 

Things are different between us now.

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