CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Kayla
I have been pestering the guys all week to let me take part in a chase. They are worried I’m not ready, but I know I am. I won’t allow what Aaron did to me to set me back—I can’t. I spent so long running from him, and now I no longer need to.
Nixie is briefing the guests tonight in the main courtyard, and everyone is dressed differently—some in costume and others in regular clothes.
Tonight is a little different than normal, but that’s all the guys would tell me. So far I’ve noticed torches have replaced the lights on the paths, and a red mist drifts along the ground.
Nixie steps up onto her platform, dressed as a ringmaster. She rocks the outfit better than anyone else could. I stand at the back, knowing the spiel well by now, with my wristband firmly in place.
“Welcome. Tonight you will run, and the hunters will hunt. Everything you think you know, you don’t.
Tonight, the last guest standing will win, but if a hunter touches you, you’re out and will meet back here.
There are no safe zones, no shortcuts, and no guarantee anyone is who you think they are.
Good luck, and may the best miscreant win.
” Nixie looks at me as she says those final words, and I suspect this has been set up just for me.
I don’t have time to overthink things as the horn blares, scattering the guests, and I run.
I know the island better than any of tonight’s visitors, giving me the advantage of being able to navigate my run.
I notice as soon as I see the actors that they are all dressed similarly—tonight not one person is unique. Everyone here takes this seriously and would never break character. The only thing they haven’t accounted for is that I would know my men even with my eyes closed.
My issue is that I don’t want to be tagged out early, and if anyone touches me, the chase will be over immediately.
They will all know that I know—shit, I am thinking like Vero—I can’t let the wrong men catch me.
I run faster, pushing toward the carnival area, then cut through a group of guests sticking together.
It’s a stupid move on their behalf, but I get it.
If they scare easily, safety in numbers and all that.
I move through a gap between attractions, and a hunter comes at me from my left. Throwing myself right to avoid him, I lose my trajectory and end up near the funhouse. It’s not the path I wanted to be on.
I glance back over my shoulder to see that the hunter has not followed me, merely directed me, and I know this is their doing.
I am being herded like an animal to where they will be waiting.
So I double back and squeeze through a narrow gap, then run faster, making sure I sneak past the hunter who has moved back into position.
Looking back one last time to make sure he didn’t follow me, I smack into a hard body.
As we collide, I grab the side of the funhouse to stop myself from face-planting.
The man in front of me straightens and I smile; he can’t hide himself from me. We enter a stare-off, and though the mask fully conceals his face, I know it’s him.
“Hi, Vero,” I say casually.
He doesn’t reply, but I can tell by the way he holds his body—it’s unique to him. He just sidesteps out of the way and slinks back into the darkness, as if he was never there.
Fine, if that is how we are playing it, so be it.
I decide the best way to lose Vero is to venture into the cornfield.
Red mist swirls around my ankles and covers the path.
I hear footsteps, but they come from all directions, so I cut straight through the field.
It’s possible Cave will appear, but we have a mutual respect now, even if I owe him two favors.
The footsteps don’t follow me as I move through the stalks, and by the time I reach the edge that opens behind the Asylum, I can hear the screams coming from inside.
I keep moving forward, more alert now in the open, and more vulnerable.
Sneaking down past the haunted mazes, I stay aware of my surroundings, so I sense them before I see them.
Hunters are surrounding me from every direction.
Ahead I see a doorframe lit up in the darkness, and even though I have a feeling it’s a back entrance to the Asylum, it is my only chance of escaping them.
I run for it and hit the door at full speed, hoping that it’s unlocked—if it isn’t, it’s game over for me.
I shoulder the door as I push the handle down, forcing it open as I stumble quickly inside, then slam it closed.
The room is lit up, and I’m surprised. Most places here engulf you in darkness. I glance frantically around and understand my mistake—this is an escape room.
I try the handle of the door, and it’s locked.
Racing around, I realize so is every door in the room.
Fuck.
This room is chaotic; it makes me think of Vero.
Color is everywhere. Paint splotches on the walls, fabric hanging from the ceiling, and random objects everywhere. It feels like how I imagine his brain to be.
Looking around the room for the clue, I find some little cardboard pieces on a table that looks like it shouldn’t be able to stand at the angle it’s balancing.
What is the first thing that made you feel safe here?
What do you eat when no one is watching?
What did you bring from your old life that you didn’t mean to keep?
What noise does this place make at night that you have started to need?
What did Vero give you that he doesn’t know he gave you?
I laugh when I read the last question—this was definitely Vero’s doing. What are these guys up to? Guess I’ll have to play along to find out.
“The first thing that made me feel safe here was Brawley. Nobody had ever simply let me exist in a space before.” I toss the card back down on the table. “I like to eat potatoes when no one is watching—any kind, but mashed is best.”
I laugh again because I know Vero must be watching, and I bet I’ll get a lot of potatoes in the future.
“I brought many nervous habits from my old life, all ones I do not plan to continue. But the sound of the water, and the rustling of the cornfield are noises that now calm me.”
I stare at the last card and smile. “Vero gave me a place to belong. He has no idea what that means to me, and I will be forever grateful.”
But when I answer them all, nothing happens, so I look around and find a second weird table.
This one is set with a set of cat ears, a small paper boat, and a broken clock stuck at the time of 2:17.
I smile at the last one, as that makes sense.
One night I came downstairs and found Vero awake, and we sat and talked until I was tired again.
There is also a pressed flower and a pencil stub with teeth marks.
I pick up the cat-ear headband and the paper boat.
Tucked under the boat is a slip of paper, and when I unfold it, it reads:
You never have to navigate anything alone again.
Tears prickle my eyes, and the door clicks open. I walk through it and it closes behind me.
This room is the opposite of Vero’s, with nothing on the walls except one sentence, written in what I recognize as Brawley’s handwriting.
You already know how to do this.
The far wall has a series of mechanisms—locks, bolts, but no instructions.
I walk over and stare at it for a while. I know how to do what?
The first mechanism I overthink and get wrong twice, but on the third attempt I stop thinking and use my hands to feel for what I need to do. It’s a false panel, and I push at it as his voice enters my head.
“Stop pushing and find where it wants to move.”
I run my fingers along the edge until I find the point of least resistance and press. It opens, and I pull out a note.
Always trust yourself. You’ve got this, Double P.
The large door clicks open, and I keep moving forward.
The next room has to be Clay’s. It’s a security setup, with twelve monitors, a desk, a chair, and a locked cabinet. His name is also on a card with a note.
Find the one that is wrong.
I take a seat in the chair and look at all twelve feeds, searching for what he wants me to find. I take three minutes to see it on feed seven—a shadow at the edge of the frame. Someone standing just outside the shot.
I walk over to the locked cabinet and hit seven on the keypad. It opens, and inside there is another note.
The difference between being safe or in danger is knowing what you’re looking for.
There is also a key, which I take and unlock the door.
The last room by default is Ares, and the room is large and dark and practically empty. It holds just a chair, a mirror, and an overhead light. Nothing else.
I sit in the chair and stare at my reflection. The text is on the mirror’s surface, overlaying my face.
Why did you stay?
Then written below it:
Not what kept you. Not who asked you. Why did you?
I look at myself and really think about the question. Trust Ares to want to know my inner workings.
“If I’m being honest, I was tired of running. I’d been running from a lot of things for so long that stopping always seemed dangerous. But for the first time in so long, you all made me feel like the real version of myself and loved me for me.”
I stand and look at my reflection one last time. It’s the same face, the same person who first came to the island, but she is whole again.
The final door opens, and there they are, standing tall. All four of them, waiting and watching, and my heart almost explodes from my chest at the sight of them. I laugh to myself. When did I become this sappy girl?
When you finally found the people who make you feel safe.
“Three minutes,” Clay says. “Impressive.”
My smile couldn’t get any bigger.
“Tell me it was you in the funhouse gap,” I say to Vero.
He nods. “You ran into me, so technically it was your fault.”
Vero crosses the room, and his arms come around me, then he lifts me off the floor and spins me around.
“You passed!” Vero cheers.
“It wasn’t a test.” Brawley crowds into our space, then steals me from Vero, and his arms squeeze me tight. “We wanted you to see your worth. To remind you of who you are, not who you were. You’re the missing piece.”
I don’t say anything as I hug him back. But when I pull back, Ares is waiting, and he takes my face in his hands, his thumbs moving along my jaw. “You make me feel,” he whispers, and I understand how huge that is for him. I press up on my toes as he leans down and kisses me.
Clay is last, waiting silently and giving me his best uninterested look. “I guess you’re okay,” he says.
“So I’m not yours?” I taunt him.
He crosses the space and picks me up to throw me over his shoulder. I laugh as he smacks my ass. “Oh, you’re mine all right.”
And I’m happy to be called his, as not everyone is comfortable with the L-word.
Vero may wear his heart on his sleeve, but the others each show how they care for me in their own way.
Clay claiming me, Ares admitting I make him feel, and that I am Brawley’s missing piece.
That’s enough, because they all complete me in ways I never imagined possible.