"It's not him," Britta agreed, though she didn't really know what he was talking about and it came out breathless with the effort of yet more running. His father, she thought, and god, she'd thought her relationship with her dad was fucked up. At least he'd never tried to kill her, not even as the projection of some bizarre board game. She glanced back over her shoulder. "The game. Someone grab the game!" They had to keep playing or they would never get out of this. Figuring everything else out could wait until their collective daddy issues weren't armed and dangerous.