Chapter 60
LUCA
Trust if you dare. Be on the roof of the hospital before the hour is up—Or beg for Mercy.
The three remaining teams are on the roof waiting. Brooke got her wish since Micah isn’t drunk, and Ivy seems steady enough.
“Where is he?” Brooke asks.
I’m wondering the same thing because it’s an hour past our arrival deadline.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Garrett says as I hear the same whirling sound of a helicopter approaching before it lands on the helipad.
Brooke yells, “Being that the hospital is abandoned, I’m pretty sure it’s here for us.”
Decider exits the aircraft and motions us over.
I don’t like this. They have a whole-ass chopper for a challenge.
We all head over and climb on board. Since choppers are usually used to haul offshore workers to rigs, that’s my presumption on where we’re going.
But right now, I can’t see anything. Outside the window, everything is black.
We’ve been flying for about an hour when lights appear in the distance.
That’s exactly what we are landing on—an offshore drilling platform.
The rig looks like a mini city sitting inside a dark void.
But there’s no one else here. No workers or crew in sight.
“Are they going to leave us here?” Brooke asks.
If they do, we’re trapped with no way back to shore. But I’m not thinking that way until I know for certain what the challenge is. Mainly because being trapped in the middle of the Gulf is as bad as being buried alive.
Once we bail out and the chopper’s engine powers down, I have a slight sense of relief.
“Time for a swim.” Remy acts like he’s about to jump off but doesn’t.
“It’s at least a three-hundred-foot drop.
The impact alone would kill your dumb ass,” Garrett shudders as he continues, “And if not, I’m sure there’re plenty of sharks waiting beneath the surface.
My cousin said they drop food in the water, and it takes seconds for the marine life to consume it.
Even though this rig appears abandoned, I bet they associate the structure with meals. ”
“Bon appetite,” Remy laughs.
Decider states, “Trust is difficult to earn yet easily broken. If you don’t trust your partner by now, you never will.
And this night will test your bond.” He points to a catwalk that extends over the water to connect to another platform.
The spotlight focused on it reveals rusted holes in the metal gratings, eroded by years of salty air, sun damage, and neglect.
“Both players will walk across. The invitee will instruct every step of their ally because that player must be blindfolded until you make it to the other side. Once you both reach the other platform, remove the covering and tie it to the structure then return here. We’ll depart once each team has taken a turn.
And no chatter during this challenge. All focus must be on the task.
The order has been selected by the Deceiver.
Luca and Ivy first, Micah and Brooke next, then Remy and Garrett last.
“Someone’s not a fan of us,” Ivy mumbles.
“First isn’t a disadvantage.” I hold out the blindfold.
She doesn’t take it as she starts towards the catwalk.
Her hands clasp her forearms as she peeks over the side of the platform.
I don’t. There’s no use. The water is barely visible.
If we fall, we’re dead. Garrett is spot-on.
No one will survive the impact alone, much less whatever is looming below the surface.
“You can trust me.” I stare into her eyes before I cover them with a blindfold. I don’t want to do this. I want to haul her away from here. Keep her safe and shielded from this. “Please listen to me. I swear I’ll get us out of this alive. Just have faith in me.”
“I don’t have a choice.” There’s more frustration in her than fear. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.
“Ivy, hear me, feel me, trust me. We’re one in this. There’s no room for mistakes or doubts.”
“Okay,” she exhales.
“One step at a time,” I reassure her as she hesitatingly places her foot on the catwalk before shifting her weight onto it. “Just like that.”
“Great.”
“There’s a gap in front of you. Hold on tight to the railings and stay on the left side.”
She does then takes another step. When I pass the same spot, I can feel the condensation on the slick railing from the heavy, humid air. The wind has picked up, the waves splashing against the legs of the rig. But the structure feels solid despite the conditions.
“There’s another opening coming up. Stay to the right and keep your footing steady and you’ll be fine. ”
“And avoid the death trap beneath us,” she utters. “I am guessing it’s more like a four- hundred-foot fall.”
Me too. “We’re not thinking about that right now.”
“Fine. Tell me a story,” she states.
“There’s a girl who trusts her partner so much, that she’s going to give him a lengthy kiss.”
“Ah, fiction,” she chuckles and I’m thankful for the sense of humor or sarcasm, whatever is shining through and keeping her steady.
“A little to the right,” I instruct as she inches over.
“We’re about halfway there.” I pray with every step she takes until we reach the end. “Slow down. The grating feels flimsier here.”
She does. When we finally step on the second platform, I remove her blindfold and tie it on the railing.
When I’m back on my feet, I tell Ivy, “Hard part is over.”
We’re on our way back, her in front of me. The journey is going by much faster as we reach the halfway point that seemed to take forever on the way out.
A scream pierces through the wind. “Ivy, help me. Please help me.”
“Mom?” She swings around, her voice hoarse, panicked. Her head whips as she searches around, her movements becoming frantic.
“It’s fake, Ivy. It’s not real.”
The cries for help continue, sounding like they’re coming from below us.
“That’s her. That’s her voice.” She goes to look over the side as I loop my arm around her waist.
“It’s not real. Listen to me. Hear my voice. They are using her to distract you. I swear to you she’s not here. Trust me, please.”
Ivy shoves against me, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Listen to me, Ivy. She’s not here. It’s fake.”
“But I know her voice.”
“It could be AI or someone who just sounds like her. They’ll do whatever they can to fuck with your mind.
She’s gone, baby. And I need you to be here with me.
” When I find out who came up with this challenge, I’m going to gut the motherfucker.
They’re dead. Because with every shriek, Ivy falls further apart in my arms. I can’t do a fucking thing to help her. And it’s killing me.
“Shut the fucking thing off,” I yell, trying to keep a hold on her.
“They won’t. I can’t do this.” Her hands shove at mine, trying to get free.
The screaming from beneath us continues as she struggles to peer over the side.
Her foot slips off the steel. I grab at her, reaching for whatever I can grip onto as she falls over the ledge.
I’m on my stomach, holding her wrist with one hand as my other arm braces on a beam.
When she looks up at me, her eyes are as hollow as the darkness below her.
Every bit of desperation I feel spills out as I yell, “Hold on.”
“Let me go,” she says, and I see the defeat in her face.
My hand clings to her as I grit out, “If you fall, I will jump. We both get off this fucking rig, or neither of us do. Understood?” Because if she doesn’t make it, then I don’t care if I step back on solid ground ever again.
There is no such thing without her. I’ve known it since the moment she shattered my world.
“Luca, please,” she cries.
I don’t even want to think about what she’s pleading for. Because I still believe she wants me to let go. And that is the last thing that will ever happened. “We’re walking off this thing together. Don’t give up, Ivy.”
“Okay,” she sobs.
I take a deep breath, my fingers feeling like they’re slipping from her wrist. I know her right arm will be useless but right now, any grip I have on her is better than her falling.
“Grab on with both hands.” She does before I instruct her, “Don’t move.”
I adjust, wrapping my leg around a beam to brace us. Taking a deep breath, I pull her up enough with my left arm then hook my right arm under hers.
“I’ve got you. Wrap your arms around my neck,” I yell. She wraps her arms around me, then I haul her up the rest of the way until she’s lying on top of me. Both of us resting on the walkway.
She stays on me for a few seconds before we carefully climb to our feet. I keep a hand on her. “How’s your shoulder?”
“Hurts,” she admits. “But it’s okay.”
Her mother’s voice screeches through the air again as I tell her, “Don’t listen.
It’s just us here.” I guide her the rest of the way.
Thankfully, after a few steady steps and her lack of reaction, the recording or whatever the fuck it is shuts off.
I don’t even know if it continued while she was dangling off the rig. Because everything around me went away.
We take the last few steps and get back on the main platform. I wrap my arms around her and pull her securely against me. I’ve never in my life felt the fear I just did thinking she was going to die. My world is solely dependent on her existence.