81. Tess
TESS
In the silence of the old saloon, I could hear everything: from the crickets outside to the gopher scurrying beneath the wide planked floorboards. My eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the saloon, and through the window next to the bar, I could see the tiniest crescent of the waning moon.
It was almost peaceful.
Without as many flashy new rides as the other sectors, the Old Frontier was a dark corner of the park where I could actually hear my own thoughts. And for once, they weren’t racing.
I pulled my knees to my chest, resting my head on them as I huddled beneath the bar counter.
It wasn’t as claustrophobic as the log flume, but not as open as the admission booth I’d chosen on the practice hunt.
I still had multiple paths out, but based on how quiet the night had been so far, I suspected I might not even need them. I even remembered to cover my trail.
This might really be it.
If I could just sit quietly in this spot for long enough, I could walk away with $40k. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. But that didn’t make it any less real.
Usually, someone would have come by now. With any luck, none of my hunters would have pulled a card for this section. I could be safe for half the game.
But then, I heard it: a thud in the distance.
My lungs struggled to hold air as I strained my ears to listen. I wanted to believe it was a wild animal. But then, the scrape of metal followed: a long, piercing sound coming from just outside the saloon door.
I didn’t have much time. If I had learned anything from the practice chase, it was that not running early enough had gotten me caught. And while Blade’s torture had been a sweet release, I wasn’t anyone’s toy tonight.
Standing as quickly and quietly as I could, I darted across the saloon toward the back door, hunching low behind the staggered tables and chairs. But before I could slip out into the night, the front door was kicked open. A shadowy, backlit figure filled the doorframe.
Fuck.
There was no time to see which masked psycho was chasing me. I bolted through the back door, scrabbling out just before a wooden chair shattered against the wall. That place was a maze of old wooden furniture, but knowing the Freaks, they’d make splinters of it all before they let me slip away.
Shit, shit, shit.
With only a few seconds’ lead, I wasn’t sure where to go. I sprinted for the darkest shadow I could find, closing the distance between myself and the Medieval Mayhem with haste.
There was a moat there. Maybe I could hide under the water?
And die of hypothermia?
A scoff burst from my chest. It didn’t matter where I was running. I just needed to get away from the deranged clown chasing me through the amusement park.
The scrape of metal made me want to think it was Blade: she was always playing with those fucking handaxes. The smash of the chair could have been Nash testing out her mallet.
But between the hulking shadow that had filled the doorframe and the deadly silence that followed, I knew exactly who was chasing me. And it only made me more desperate for an escape.
As I approached the regal banners that announced the start of Medieval Mayhem, I searched desperately for cover: a bush, or some sort of turret I could hide behind.
Fuck, I’d settle for a dungpile.
But just before I could step out of the Old Frontier, a hand clasped around the back of my neck. With searing force, I was torn back off of my feet. A machete pressed against my neck as my captor held me against her chest.
Then, Cyrus’ gravelly voice breathed in my ear. “Game’s over, Ragdoll.”