A Game Most Dangerous Read Online Free PDF

with a beard big enough to double as a small bear. He smelled like cigars and sweat and dirty laundry. Rain sneezed. "What—" His voice came out croaked, and he gave up.
    The man said nothing. Rain briefly considered getting free, but his limbs still felt like noodles, and he was so hungry he could eat an entire heard of buffalo. Man, a buffalo burger sounded like the best idea ever. With a small mountain of fries and dubious amounts of beer.
    Rain fell asleep again, dreaming of beer and fries and Whitney gazing at him adoringly the whole time.
    When he woke up the second time, it was to find himself sprawled out on a sofa that smelled like dust, dirt, and cigars.
    "Oh, good, you're awake," said a cheerful voice.
    Rain pressed the heel of his hand to his aching head and looked around, finally found the speaker in the corner: a tall, spindly, but fit-looking dude with skin the color of milk and a beard that was mostly silver. His equally silver hair was mostly covered by a ratty, dark green baseball cap. He wore an army green t-shirt and brown pants that also had a vaguely military look to them, and boots that were caked in dirt. "Thanks for the save, dude."
    The man gave the kind of nod that reminded Rain of his pompous uncle, like he knew how gracious and considerate he was being every time he so much as passed the salt across the table. "Of course, of course. Glad to see you're alright. Vanya looked you over, but one worries all the same."
    "Vanya? Was that the big dude who was carrying me?"
    "Yes," the man said. "Who are you, young man?"
    Rain stood, something about the dude's black eyes and a hint of the smell of blood making him twitchy. "My name is Sanger Rainsford. I'm a college student, on spring break with my friends. We were out on a yacht, got caught in a storm, and I was knocked overboard."
    "Well, maybe that will teach you not to be so foolish," the man said. His accent was weird, definitely American but like he spent a lot of time around British or Australian English and was picking up bits. Probably watched too much BBC, to judge by the look of Ye Old Library Slash Study they were in, like something out of a cheesy movie where the duke or whatever fretted that the snarky chick would never love him back. "My name is Edward Zaroff, but most folks just call me General. Welcome to Ship-Trap Island."
    Zaroff? How did he know that… uh-oh. Please let that be the craziest of coincidences to happen ever. "Thanks again for the save, uh, General. I don't suppose you have a phone so I can call my friends and tell them I'm okay?"
    "I'm afraid not," Zaroff replied. "One of the reasons I'm fond of this island is that it's completely isolated minus the occasional passing ship. The waters are still too dangerous for boats to head out, unfortunately, so we cannot take you to the main island quite yet. I also fear there will be another storm soon, so I'm afraid you'll be stuck here for a day or so until we can safely travel."
    Damn it. Rain's parents would know he was fine, but poor Whitney and the guys would be worried sick. Maybe he could just sneak down to the water in a bit and swim back.
    "I'm sure you're quite famished after your ordeal. Would you like to join me for dinner?"
    Rain nodded. "Yeah, food would be great." Maybe that was why he could smell blood, though that didn't really sit right. Whatever, he'd figure it out. And it would be something stupid and harmless and he'd laugh at himself for being a paranoid idiot.
    He followed Zaroff out of the weird library and through a house that proved the library was only a warmup on strangeness. "What is this, some old, possibly haunted mansion? It looks like a movie set, dude."
    Zaroff chuckled. "It's quite an old home, yes. I'm in the process of having it repaired and updated, but I'm afraid right now it's little more than a relic. It belonged to my great grandfather but was claimed by the government, and I've only now gotten it back in the family possession."
    "Oh, cool,"