Chapter 24
Sierra
Sierra and the others followed the intern through the studio to the show’s main set, with its steampunk vibe and five risers, one for each team.
After today, there would be only four.
Sierra gazed around, wondering who here had the guts to slip coded messages under Ranielle’s nose. The nerve to lock her team in a freezer. The stomach to kill her sister.
There was Fitzy in a tall director’s chair, an assistant holding a bottled water for him to drink through a straw while a makeup artist dabbed powder onto his brow.
Ranielle Russell and Vera, having a muttered conversation over a notebook. Ranielle looked as displeased as usual.
The Game Master, strutting across the front of the stage, high-fiving members of the Crown Jewels as he passed.
The intern scurrying through with a coffee. The woman with muscles to rival Jarius’s, adjusting massive lights on the side of the stage. How strong did a person have to be to suffocate someone? Alicia wasn’t muscular, but Sierra knew she would have fought with everything she had.
It was hot beneath the lights. Sweat dripped down the backs of her knees.
After the final mic check, Ranielle stood before them on the stage. She surveyed each contestant, then turned in a slow circle, her gaze carrying over the rest of the crew, until every person in the room was staring back at her, silent.
“As many of you know,” she said, “this show very nearly got canceled after the tragic events of last season. They say no publicity is bad publicity, but they’re full of shit.
Our reputation is everything. We are a feel-good family show, featuring some of the most brilliant minds of the next generation.
A little puzzle-solving, a little wholesome conversation .
. . a little teamwork. And yet.” Her gaze sharpened.
“And yet, here we are. The show where a teenage contestant was brutally murdered. The killer never found. The media throwing around words like ‘corruption’ and ‘cheating.’” Her voice took on a new edge.
“I have clawed our way back onto the air. I have fought to win over Hitflix, our sponsors, the media, the fans. And I will not have my efforts ruined by some smart-ass who thinks it’s funny to put these messages”—she punctuated the word with air quotes—“inside our escape rooms.”
Sierra glanced at Louis. He was standing to the side of the stage, nodding along with a serious—almost angry—expression. Sierra wished she could tell if it was an act.
“This nonsense ends today,” Ranielle continued.
“My legal team is standing by, ready to destroy any one of you who even thinks about commenting on that perverse message. Remember: Family show. Puzzles and games. A million dollars at stake.” She finished this speech with a predatory smile. “And don’t forget to have fun.”
She stalked off the stage, flicking a hand to the cameras. “Carry on.”
“You heard the boss,” came the director’s voice. “Action!”
Sierra put on her game face as the cameras started rolling. The Escape Game theme music played through the studio as the crane camera swooped toward the hosts.
“Wow, Game Master,” said Fitzy. “You really outdid yourself with that fortune teller room.”
“Thanks, Fitzy. I wanted our contestants to feel like the fortune teller’s spirit was right there in the room with them.”
“I’d say you succeeded.” Fitzy looked fearfully over his shoulder. “In fact—I think I feel her presence now!”
Sierra didn’t bother to hide an exaggerated eye roll, knowing it would make it onto the aired footage.
“If Madame Clara Voyance were here,” Fitzy continued, growing serious, “she’d be telling us that the fate of one of these teams is about to be changed forever. Tonight, one team will be eliminated.”
“A real shame. I’ve been genuinely impressed by the skills and strategies put forward by our teams this season. I would love to see them all go through to the next round.”
“Me too. But that’s not how the show works.” Fitzy turned toward the teams, poised on their risers. “Leaders, come forward, please.”
Sierra sauntered between Beck and Carter, moving to the front of the stage with the four other leaders of her rival teams.
“How are we feeling?” Fitzy asked them.
Jarius crossed his arms. “Ready to seal our victory. Let’s get on with it!”
“The swagger!” said Fitzy.
“I said we were here to win, and that hasn’t changed. We’re taking this all the way to the finale.”
Sierra barely registered his peacock posing.
There was so much riding on this moment.
She’d known it would be intense—she recalled this feeling well—but the weight of possible failure was like a sword dangling over her head.
She couldn’t leave. She hadn’t managed to get to the terrace yet.
She had to find whatever her sister had left for her.
But she kept her expression neutral—callous, even, hiding the storm of emotions inside.
The music swelled to a crescendo, then stopped. The screen on the wall flashed the name of the fastest team.
“Well, Jarius,” said Fitzy, “it’s no surprise you’re confident, because Team Dread came in first, at twenty-four minutes and thirty-seven seconds!”
Jarius pumped a fist in the air as his team whooped from their riser.
Sierra wanted to hit something. She wished the rest of her team was up here, standing by her side.
Which was unexpected. Nothing like nearly dying of hypothermia to bring people closer together.
Fitzy turned to the remaining four leaders. “In second place, finishing at twenty-five minutes and eleven seconds, is . . .”
An agonizing pause.
“Team Mind Hack!”
Nadia gave a satisfied sigh and beamed at her teammates.
“Third place, at twenty-six minutes, fourteen seconds, is . . .”
Another brutal pause.
“Team Crown Jewels!”
Emma squealed and jumped up and down.
Sierra’s teeth ground. Crap, crap, crap.
“Which means,” Fitzy continued, “Ollie, Sierra—one of you is going to have to lead your team right on home.” His gaze darted past Sierra, and she scowled, certain he was looking at Carter.
He needed to find someone else to feed his ego.
“Team Helsing, you completed the escape room in twenty-eight minutes, two seconds.”
Louis whistled. Almost two full minutes behind third place. That did not bode well. This couldn’t be happening.
“While the Illuminati,” Fitzy said, turning his attention to Ollie, “came in at . . .”
Pause.
“Twenty-eight minutes, thirty seconds.” His voice lifted triumphantly. “Which means Team Helsing still has their name on the board!”
Ollie’s head dropped as Sierra processed the words. She could hear Carter shriek distantly.
They had done it. They were still in.
But barely.
She needed to get to that terrace. Soon.