Chapter 29
“Hey!” Devon shouts. “Where are you going?”
I ignore him and keep running. I’m saving them both.
There was never any other choice.
I check my watch.
I have about five and a half minutes left.
I veer down the right path to find another clearing. Ahead of me, a small wooden platform swings below a high tree branch suspended by long, braided ropes. On it kneels a woman with her wrists and ankles bound in iron cuffs.
Below her, a pit dug into the earth stretches along the platform’s path.
It’s filled with sharp iron spikes. Fuck.
The platform acts like a pendulum, arcing through the air, but instead of losing momentum, it appears to be gaining speed as it tops out at a higher point with each pass due to some kind of mechanism attached to the tree branch.
The platform swings while the woman clings to one of the ropes. As the platform reaches its zenith, she screams as she lifts, her chained legs dangling midair like dead weights.
My heart climbs in my throat as she’s suspended in nothing for less than a second, and the platform drops, swinging the opposite way, directly over that pit filled with spikes.
With her ankles and wrists bound, she has very little mobility or strength to hang on. If she falls, it’s over.
Think, think, think.
I scan the area, searching for another helpful tool. But there’s nothing. What are my options here? All I have is my small knife tucked in my boot. I pull it out and approach the platform as it arcs to the bottom of its trajectory, but it’s moving too fast for me to catch it.
The platform reaches its full height, nearly inverting itself.
The woman screams again as she clings to the rope, and her body twists wildly in the air. What do they want?
Maybe I was never intended to save her at all. Maybe this was just about the choice itself. I wouldn’t put anything past my father at this point. Well, fuck that. He will not turn me into the same monster he is today.
My jaw hardens as the platform swings over the pit again. Another scream as the woman is suspended for even longer before the platform narrowly catches her.
Finally, an idea forms.
I tuck my knife away and then run back, giving me some distance. With my hands loose at my sides, I watch the platform as it slowly careens toward the ground.
Maybe if I knock the platform with enough force, I can alter its trajectory enough to clear it of the spikes.
The platform drops as I gauge the distance.
It’s coming down as I count the seconds it takes for it to make a pass. Twenty seconds. Ten. Five.
I run. With my arms and legs pumping, I gather speed, jumping as I meet the path of the arc.
My hands slam against the edge of the platform, and I grip it. Using every muscle in my core, I swing my legs forward with every ounce of strength I can summon.
Now I’m moving with the platform. My breath sticks in my throat as I pass over the spikes with barely a breath. As the path continues back, my grip slips, one hand falling away while I use the other to cling on, my fingers digging into the wood.
Now I’m dangling over a pit of fucking iron spikes.
No, no, no. I do not die like this.
I throw my free hand up, snatching the edge with both hands again—thank you, daily strength training at the crack of dawn.
When I look down, my heart stops. I think I did it. Whether it was the impact or just my dangling weight, the platform’s trajectory has shifted enough that I can jump down without getting skewered.
With a deep breath, I let go.
My feet hit the ground, and I roll to my side, rocks digging into my ribs. But I survived.
Throughout it all, the woman never takes her eyes off me, but it’s clear that she’s frozen. Petrified with terror.
“You have to jump, too!” I scream. “When it’s at the top! Into the bushes! You have to jump!”
It’s a long drop, but I just survived it. Of course, she can’t use her hands or feet to protect herself, but this is her best chance. I could try to break her fall, but that might just kill us both.
“Jump!” I scream, my voice cracking. Finally, the woman moves. Almost as if in slow motion, she hurls herself off, just before the platform reaches its peak again.
I whisper softly to myself, hoping, hoping she survives.
She hits the bushes, then the ground with a dull thud and rolls.
I have only a fraction of a second to feel relief before I’m up and running.
The woman is alive. A little worse for wear but alive. I sigh as I search for some way to open her cuffs, but they’re bound with a heavy lock.
“We have to get up,” I croak. “We have to make it to the gate.”
I don’t even know if that’s true.
I’ve already broken the game’s rules.
I don’t know if they’ll let any of this slide, but something tells me we still have to cross the finish line to have a chance of coming out of this unscathed.
A quick glance at my watch tells me we have less than a minute. “Hold on,” I say, not giving her a chance to protest. Thankfully, she’s small and slight. I bend down and sling her over my shoulders. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, and it feels like she weighs almost nothing.
I stagger back to the path and struggle toward the fountain. I pick up my pace, running as fast as I can with the woman bouncing on my shoulders.
The fountain appears before us like a lifeline.
I check my watch.
Ten seconds.
The time ticks down as the masked faces grow closer.
The woman is crying, shouting. She’s getting heavier, and I list to the side, nearly losing my balance. Somehow, I save us both from falling, then I’m running again.
Just a few seconds left.
My watch buzzes as I trip past the finish line, roughly setting the woman down as her weight crashes into me, and we both stumble.
I stagger for several steps, tripping over my feet before landing face down on the pavement with a smack.