Chapter 16 Adi
Adi
Adi fumbled with the combination lock. The symbols didn’t make sense. They weren’t numbers or letters, just squiggles. How was he supposed to escape the room if he couldn’t read them?
“Come on!” Beck cried on his left. “Work it out, Adi!”
“What’s taking so long?” barked Sierra. “We’d be better off without you.”
Carter, in a short dress and knee-high boots, took off her glasses and wailed.
“It would be nice if you helped,” he said through his teeth. He spun the combination lock, only to find the door was a coffin. The lid opened, and inside was a girl with golden, kinky hair and dark roots, her eyes milky white, a trickle of blood running down her nose—
BEEP BEEP BEEP
Red lights flashed. Time was up, he’d failed to escape—
BEEP BEEP BEEP
Adi’s eyes snapped open. He wasn’t in an escape room. He was in the villa.
Beck sat up in the bed across from Adi’s. “Oh god. Ash,” he muttered. “Yuck.”
“Ash?” asked Adi.
“Nothing. What time is it?”
Adi’s phone said four a.m.
“Shit.” He flopped back onto the mattress.
Monday. The first episode had dropped last night, and they’d stayed up late discussing how the editors had made them look.
The final cut had amped up specific aspects of their personalities.
Unsurprisingly, they’d framed Sierra as a ruthless antagonist, with Beck’s chipper, can-do attitude as her foil.
Carter, who’d been hyped as the season’s puzzle-solving savant, came across lackluster.
It probably helped sell her victim story better.
But it was how they portrayed Adi that confused him the most. Despite his fears, they hadn’t made him the bumbling fool.
Instead, one of the higher-ups had decided to omit the entire scene with him attempting to make an anagram.
The way they zoomed in on his smile and overlaid his post-round comments during crucial aspects of the room made Adi think they were setting him up to be a main player in the show.
His relief at being portrayed in a good light wasn’t enough to keep his brain from conjuring that terrible anxiety dream, but still, it was something to know the producers weren’t already against for him. He needed his father to see him at his best.
Outside, beyond the incessant beeping, he heard other villa doors opening, contestants calling to one another.
“We should get up,” said Beck, but neither of them moved until Carter pounded at their door.
Adi groaned and dragged himself out of bed. “It’s probably a prank,” he said, stepping into the hall to find Carter wrapping a cardigan around herself and slipping into a pair of flip-flops.
“Maybe,” she said. “But we’re still supposed to vacate the buildings.”
“Says who?”
“Everyone. That’s the entire point of fire alarms.”
Ugh. Rule followers. She and Beck walked out. He sighed, trailing after them. “Where’s Sierra?”
“She refused to come,” said Carter. “She also thinks it’s a prank. Or the producers messing with us.”
Shaking his head, Adi turned around. “I’m going back to bed.”
Carter grabbed him. “Ranielle Russell has already yelled at me twice. I’m not going to give her any more reasons to be mad at us.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.
Elijah and Lisa were doing a head count as the crowd gathered by the pool. All the contestants were in pajamas and bathrobes except Jarius, who strutted around in a pair of plaid boxer briefs, crushing an empty energy drink with one hand.
Maybe the fire alarm wasn’t caused by the producers at all, but by that jackass.
No sooner had Adi thought it than that jackass started walking their way.
“Yo, Carter Kelly.”
When she saw him, Carter threw her hands over her eyes. “Oh my god, Jarius, put on some clothes!”
“Can’t,” he said, jutting a thumb toward his villa. “Not allowed to go back in yet.”
Adi grabbed a towel on a lounge chair and tossed it at him.
Jarius caught it with a laugh. “Thanks, dude. I might need this after I go for a dip.” He sidled closer to Carter.
“Saw your video. That was a nice story you told, grabbing the wrong drink before you—” He pretended to vomit, making Henri from Team Mind Hack take a disgusted step away.
When he smirked at Carter, his voice took on an edge that made Adi bristle.
“But I’m still waiting for my in-person apology. ”
He expected Carter to stammer out some weak excuse.
Instead, she lowered her hands and turned to face Jarius with squared shoulders.
“You’re right,” she said through her teeth.
“I’m really sorry for throwing up all over your nice clothes, Jarius.
” Turning away, she muttered under her breath, “Next time I’ll aim for your face. ”
Adi guffawed. Maybe Carter did have some bite after all. Jarius started to ask what she’d said when Elijah appeared, clipboard in hand. “Where’s Sierra? She’s the only one I don’t have eyes on.”
Beck said, “She’s not here. She likes to go for early morning walks sometimes.”
“She was already gone when the alarm went off,” Carter added.
“It’s barely four o’clock,” said Elijah, “and you’re filming a round today.”
Beck shrugged.
Elijah looked like he wanted to argue, but he made a note on the clipboard and walked away as flashing lights signaled the fire department’s arrival.
It was ages before they were allowed back into the complex, and the day didn’t get better after that.
Something was wrong with the water system, which meant no one could take a shower and their only option for coffee was the sugar-packed “lattes” in the vending machines.
With no water to wash dishes, the dining hall put out some energy bars and prepackaged pastries and called it good.
It would’ve been fine if Sierra could’ve cooked for them, but there was no time.
The air-conditioning on their shuttle bus was broken, and the day was already hot. When the bus driver announced there’d been a delay and they had to drive around for an extra hour, Adi no longer doubted Sierra’s claim.
Ranielle Russell was screwing with them.
On the second hour of being stuck on the sweltering bus, Sierra stealthily handed each of her teammates a water bottle.
Beck unscrewed the cap of his. “I might be a little bit in love with you,” he whispered.
“Gross,” Sierra muttered.
They finally arrived at the studio and filed into the air-conditioned greenroom, but their relief was short-lived.
“There was a mix-up with the caterer today,” said one of the interns. “Your lunch wasn’t delivered.”
Jarius laughed bitterly. “Is this show being run by amateurs?”
The intern shrugged. “Helsing, you’re up first. Hand over your phones and bags, then head straight to costumes and makeup. Illuminati, you’re next, so be ready when you’re called. We’ve already lost a lot of time today.”
“Not through any fault of ours,” Adi grumbled as they followed the intern into the hall.
This day needed to get in the freaking trash, and they hadn’t even run the room yet.
“Is this a pirate-themed room?” Beck said the moment the director called for action. “Because I love pirates.”
It was a worthwhile guess—they were in identical emerald-green, puffy-sleeved blouses—but Adi wished Beck would tone down the zeal. Surely no one could be that happy all the time.
Fitzy’s mouth hung open in surprise, not used to contestants talking before he did.
Louis Augustus Russell, however, smirked and held a finger to his lips. “All is soon to be revealed.”
Fitzy looked from Beck to Sierra to Adi and finally to Carter. His words seemed to carry a double meaning as he asked, “Everyone feeling good?”
Adi frowned, trying to decipher if he was asking Carter out of honest concern, or if there was more behind it.
Could he really have tried to drug her at the party last week?
And if so, what for? Ranielle Russell had insinuated a potential sabotage, but Fitzy shouldn’t care which teams did well and which didn’t.
Right?
“We’re doing great,” Carter said—a blatant lie.
Adi raised an eyebrow behind her back. It had been impossible not to overhear bits of the hour-long phone calls she had with her parents every night, including when she tried to explain what had happened at the party.
He might have felt worse for her if he hadn’t been the tiniest bit jealous at the thought of having parents who actually cared.
Symphony would’ve found it hilarious if Adi had gotten wasted and puked on the competition.
He could hear her now. Welcome to showbiz, sweetie!
“How about you, team leader?” said Fitzy. “Are you ready?”
Sierra eyed him coldly. “Yeah, Fitzy. We’re ready. To slay the competition.”
“Ha! Slay! Like your namesake, Van Helsing, am I right?” He winked. “I’ve been studying.”
Carter laughed, and Fitzy’s smile widened briefly before he turned to Louis. “Game Master, why don’t you reveal what’s in store for our first elimination round?”
“With pleasure.” Louis’s voice dropped dramatically. “The four of you have been invited to have your fortunes told by the great Madame Clara Voyance. But when you arrive, you discover that a curse has befallen the diviner!”
“How unfortunate,” said Fitzy. “Fortune teller? Fortunate? Get it?”
Adi wanted to smack him over the head.
Louis continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Her spirit has been sealed inside her crystal ball. You must solve the mysteries of the fortune teller’s tent to free her . . . and yourselves.”
Fitzy made an eerie oooh noise. “With that spine-tingling introduction, Game Master, do you have any wisdom to offer our intrepid team?”
“Indeed. To control your fate . . . let intuition be your guide.”
They were given blindfolds, but before they were led off the stage, a loud buzzer sounded through the set.
“Yikes,” said Fitzy, grimacing. “I forgot to mention the snag.”
“You’re kidding,” Sierra said.
“Team Dread has chosen to target you with our very first snag of the season. Because they were the fastest to figure out the element numbers in the last round, they’re allowed to give a rival team an error penalty.
Be forewarned: the Game Master has slipped in one nasty punishment if you get a particular part of the room wrong. Best of luck!”
“Great,” Adi muttered, putting on his blindfold.
As they were guided toward the escape room, he tried to shake off their terrible morning and get into the puzzle-solving mindset. It wouldn’t be easy. He was hungry. And thirsty. And so tired.
A door closed behind them. Adi picked up the scents of earthy incense, wood recently sawn and stained, the lingering aroma of paint.
Fitzy’s voice came through his earpiece. “Team Helsing, you may take off your blindfolds and begin in three . . . two . . . one . . . Escape!”