Past
My legs barely hold as I stagger down the long corridor lit only by small battery candles every so often. I keep a palm clamped over the gash at my stomach even as warm blood creeps into the waistband of my shorts. A single door waits ahead with a crooked placard: Final Act.
I push through and step into a warped carnival washed in soft yellow bulbs. A broken carousel sits in the center, painted horses, teeth bared. A giant clown face stretches across the far wall, mouth split in a grin, with a door tucked behind it.
A mechanical voice blares overhead. “Welcome to the finale, Lyra. You’ve made it so far, still breathing. Let’s see how long that lasts.”
A slow carnival jingle begins to play. It sounds wrong in this horrible prison. “To escape, you’ll need to find the key. One of our little friends is hiding it. But be careful…some bite.”
“Where’s Blaine?” I shout.
The carousel jerks to life, lurching into a slow spin.
The horses’ eyes glow as they pass, and my stomach flips.
First, I search the horses. I run my fingers over them, seeing if I find anything.
When I get to the seat, I pull and almost cry out when it opens.
I move, fast as the pain lets me, yanking the first open.
Empty. The next three are the same. On the fifth, a key winks back at me in the dim light.
I sprint to the clown’s mouth, jam the key into the lock, and twist.
Nothing. The metal won’t give. The key slips from my bloody hand and clatters to the floor. I run back to the horses. I open the remaining compartments and find four more keys.
“Uh-oh, someone’s cheating. No skipping the fun.” The lights snap off. Darkness closes in so tight I swear it presses on my skin.
I stumble back to where I think the door is.
It takes me agonizingly long minutes to try each one; my hands shake uncontrollably.
The third one finally latches, and I race to fling the door open to stumble outside, shutting the heavy door behind me.
Black forest stares back at me. I run out a few feet, searching.
“Blaine!” My voice scrapes my throat.
I turn back, noticing a faded sign hangs over the door I just ran out of: The House of Madness. Escape if you Dare.
An escape room. A theme attraction.
“No.” The word shreds out of me. “Help! Is anyone there?”
Laughter floats from the far edge of the field where moss gives way to rock. A black SUV idles, four figures load in, backlit by the headlights. Even from here, I know them.
Jade. Molly. Amelia. Leo.
They did this. I go still, too stunned for sound. Jade turns, as if she feels my eyes, and smiles, not concerned about the consequences. The SUV door thuds shut, and the car slides into the dark.
What was this? A sick, sadistic prank. Blaine isn’t hurt. Was he ever taken?
I drop to the cold grass, crawling on my hands and knees to the door where my bag sits. My fingers fumble until they close around my phone. I click the one person I need, hoping it will connect, not knowing exactly where I am.
“Beam. It’s late, what’s going on?”
James’s voice breaks whatever is left of my control. A sob tears out of me. “James,” I choke. “I…I need help. I’m hurt.”
There is silence, then panic. “Where are you?” he demands.
I send my location and let the phone fall. My breaths come too fast. My vision tunnels. I stare up at the blank sky and count until the sirens pull me back.
Flashing lights light up the trees. Sirens. Voices. Hands on my body. The world narrows, then slips away.
I wake up groggy, the air thick with that distinct sterile hospital scent. My throat burns. My body feels like it has been torn apart and stitched back together.
But I don’t panic because the first thing I see is James. My older brother. My hero. He sits by my bedside in his scrubs, hands folded tightly, eyes locked on the monitors. There are smudges beneath his eyes.
When he notices I’m awake, his body jerks like he’s been pulled back to life. He leans over, brushing the hair from my damp forehead, his hands steady even if his voice is not.
“You’re okay,” he whispers. “Beam, you’re okay.”