Chapter Twenty-Three #2
We all head to the starting line. Bastian stands to my right – he is massive – and another guy the size of a house is on my left. A gunshot signals that it’s time to run. Rubber bullets fly into my body at speed and a squeal falls from my lips. The assholes are targeting me.
I run faster so that I have guys on either side of me, protecting me from the assault.
I want to snarl at whoever’s attacking me, but there’s no time.
I have to assume it’s because they somehow see me as a threat.
I don’t know why – I’m pretty sure I stand no chance against these guys who all look like pro athletes – but I’m going to do my best to make them sweat.
Once we head into the cover of the trees, I break away from the pack. Giving it everything I have this early on will probably fuck me in the ass later, but I have a point to prove and I plan to win this thing.
The first stop is a barbed wire crawl. Looks nasty, but it’s just like the Devil’s Beard cargo scramble we trained on in the warehouse. Only, more deadly.
I drop to the ground as some guy starts yelling that the wire is real and to watch our backs.
I knew it would be real, we’re not at a bloody jungle gym, are we.
Cold muddy water bites into my skin, along with what feels like sharpened gravel, but I block out the pain and pull myself along, commando crawling through the muck to the exit line.
Bastian keeps level with me the entire time, and when we come out at the end, we are back to running.
Following the orange flags that mark our way, I realise that there is just under a mile between obstacles.
That, I can do. Twelve one-mile sprints will be child’s play between the obstacle course from hell.
Bastian paces himself beside me, continually looking my way, but I ignore him.
We both reach the next stop: scaffolding that looks to be holding some kind of tubing.
I manage to pull myself up before Bastian and silently thank Jasper for making me work on my upper body strength in training.
By the end of the three weeks I no longer needed him to touch my ass to help me up the tallest obstacles.
At the top, I jump into the tube and it’s like a big slide.
I hit the water at the bottom and realise it is full of ice.
An Arctic enema. My downfall for sure. Gasping for air when I surface, I see Bastian has overtaken me.
Damnit! Ducking under a beam and out of the water, a third guy has now caught up to us.
I drag myself out of the ice and force myself to run, but my legs feel like cement blocks, and my bones are rattling so hard I can barely see straight.
I demand my body to move, to continue running, knowing that the only way to warm up is to keep going. By the time I reach the next obstacle, I’m numb to the cold and determined.
The sprints between the obstacles are my saviour.
I make up for lost time with each one. I had no idea that I’d become so fast; I was still unable to outrun Onyx without cheating, but here I was, outstripping not only all of the Rucks, but bypassing some of the slower family members with their fifteen minute head start too.
Each following stop is just as hard as the last: climbing a smooth, vertical wooden wall which has been slicked with grease; a massive floatie on mud which running across is harder than expected; Black widow tightropes which I sail across with surprising ease and grace.
The mud mile is fun, running over mounds of wet mud mountains and sliding down the other side. I gain enough momentum that the downward tracks allow my muscles to relax and recover slightly, and a joyous whoop falls from my lips.
My lack of weight is a serious advantage, and I make it through the monkey bars ahead of everyone else in my group (don’t even think of the regular kiddy playground type, this was a savage series of peaks and drops that tested my grip and my strength like nothing before).
Unfortunately, the next obstacle, the rotten smelling blue goop gets me stuck and Bastian finally passes me. I swear and battle harder to free myself. Once out, I push to catch him at the next tunnel.
The Augustus Gloop. I am prepared for this one.
Taking a deep breath, I dive into the concrete tunnel and begin the slow vertical rope ladder climb under a relentless torrent of dirty, muddy water.
Bastian’s large size works against him climbing the small ladder in the tunnel, and my ability to hold my breath for a decent amount of time helps me to power through.
We both make it to the spider web scramble, neck and neck, every muscle in my body is burning now.
I’ve not kept count of the obstacles, so I have no idea how close to being done we are.
The course seems much quieter now though, so I’m guessing a lot of the families have finished.
The Rucks seem to have fallen even further behind.
It almost feels like it’s just Bastian and me out here.
Pulling myself up the slippery web is pure torture, but all I can see in my mind is Onyx’s smug face, so I power on.
Bastian is off before the zipline down hits the ground, covered in mud and dripping in water that’s up to his armpits.
I want to laugh at his not so pretty face now, but I don’t have time.
I don’t wait for the zipline to reset for me, I take a leap of faith and jump feet first off the platform, down into the pool below.
I pray I don’t break anything and by some small miracle, my prayers are answered.
As quickly as I can, I swim to the edge of the pool and hoist myself up.
My bones are so cold they feel brittle. I’m grateful the next course is close by, even if it is a damn half pipe ramp without the mile sprint in between.
I wonder if that means we’re near the end?
Will there be more than twelve obstacles then?
The final few rammed close together so that there’s no time to recover between them?
I groan, wipe muddy sweat from my brow and power towards the half pipe.
Everest. I’ve practiced this one. I can do this.
I smile when I see that Bastian keeps failing. He’s going at it all wrong, leaning in to the curved wall instead of leaning back. It’s second nature, but still, if he’s failed with his method that many times, surely he should try something new?
Pausing to catch my breath for a second, I back up a few paces. Then, I run at it with everything I have and leap when my legs turn to jelly. I make it, just gripping the lip, and all I have to do is pull myself up.
Bastian has made it to the top somehow. His savagely beautiful face grins down at me, his large foot pressing down against my fingers.
“No girl is going to beat me,” he snarls. “I actually deserve my spot here, not because I’m fucking a Knox.”
“Not just one,” I quip and he twists his foot, crushing my bones beneath him. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry in pain, so I smirk at him like I’m a pain loving psychopath before I roll back down to the bottom of the pipe.
Fuck. That’s going to cost me time and points. Not to mention it hurts like a motherfucker. No time to lick wounds now though. Rest when you’re dead, Amelie, I tell myself.
I have to go back and get a run up to the pipe again. Two failed attempts, but by some miracle I make it on the third go. It’s just as well, I don’t think my legs can carry me much further.
I see three more obstacles between me and the finish line.
I can fucking do this.
The first is a cage crawl, which I see Bastian more than halfway along, struggling to fit his fingers through the mesh to pull himself along.
I’m looking at a 60ft steel cage with only a few inches of air.
I can do this. Taking a deep breath, I enter the cage.
But instead of crossing on my back and pulling myself across the mesh, I go in face first and duck under the water.
It’s not deep, but it’s deep enough that I can sort of half swim, half claw my way across.
Holding my breath for 18 metres is a piece of piss anyway.
The penultimate obstacle surprises me. It’s a field dash through some sort of dangling wires.
They don’t look sharp. I glance up to see Bastian has already cleared this obstacle so I can’t watch him to know what to expect.
Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to dive right in.
Pick my way through the wires delicately?
Or just make a mad dash and hope for the best?
Whooping and cheering up ahead makes my decision for me and I dive into the tangled web of wires at full pelt.
Big mistake.
Pain like nothing I’ve ever experienced before paralyses my body as 10,000 volts of electricity course through me. Holy fucking shit balls. My teeth rattle so hard I bite down on my tongue and taste blood, which I hastily spit out. It’s a miracle I’ve managed to maintain bladder control.
When I finally manage to get my limbs to work again, I rip the wires off me. Shit shit shit. I can hear competitors approaching from behind. How the hell do I get through this? If I slow down, they’ll overtake me for sure. I bounce from foot to foot until inspiration strikes.
I unloop my massive T-shirt and quickly shove my arms into the sleeves so that they’re against my body. I pull the shirt up over my head, effectively making myself oblivious to the danger ahead. I take a deep breath, grit my teeth to protect my tongue, and run blind towards the final obstacle.
It hurts like a fucking bitch as my wet clothes conduct the electricity, but I move fast enough that I’m no longer paralysed by the pain. Fuck fuck fuck. Who the hell came up with an idea this fucking savage? And at the end of the course too.
The second I break free of the wires I rip the stupid wet shirt from my head and blink in the cold bright February light. There’s only one more obstacle to go. I can do this.
Bastian is long gone as I approach the final obstacle, which is more scaffolding. I feel like I need to cry, but I don’t. No way would I fall apart now, or in front of an audience. But I may just have to lick my wounds a little later.
It feels like there’s still so much electricity coursing through my body that my piss will be steaming for a week.
I want to kill the Knox brothers – even Sawyer – for not warning or better preparing me.
They didn’t know I’d put in extra training with Jasper and Frost. There’s no doubt in my mind that without them, I wouldn’t have even made it halfway around the course.
It’s like the Knox family set me up to fail.
Rage explodes in my stomach. Fuck them. Fuck them all. And fuck Bastian. The fucking cheating bastard.
At the top of the 80 foot scaffolding is another set of monkey bars with a sheer drop below.
Fuck. This time, there are hanging chains with a ring at the bottom of each one.
I grab the one closest to me, my feet balancing precariously on the ledge.
This is a one-shot thing. My hands are wet and slippery.
I notice a small box hidden in the corner and I go take a look.
Inside is loose chalk. I rub a heap on my hands, thinking here goes nothing.
I make the first two rings and on the third my hand slips.
Shit. I swing my body to gain enough momentum to re-grab the ring I slipped from, trying to ignore the drop below me.
I start to hear cheering. Bloody Baxter is shouting out that I can do it and more people join in.
I recognise the Knox voices and I swing myself enough to make it across the final ring.
I hit the mat at the end with a thud and as I lay on my side panting, I see that three guys have already started coming across, so I hastily scale myself down to the ground and run, imagining all the times that Onyx has chased me in order to ignite that final burst of speed.
The finish line is in sight, and I see Bastian laughing with someone as they high five and slap each other on the back. Anger fuels me across the line and I tackle him to the ground and swing wildly at him, only hurting my hand more as all my training flies out the window.
Large arms grab me roughly from behind and pull me off the bastard who at least looks shocked to have been tackled and socked, by a girl no less.
“Let me go, Onyx!” I shout, but he just carries me away and to a tent set up not far away.
The entire Knox family follows and crowd around me as a team of medics begin to check me over.
A warm blanket is thrown over my shoulders and a hot drink is pressed into my hands.
Kalen steps forward with a bottle of bourbon and lifts it to my lips.
I allow him to pour the burning liquid into my mouth, drinking greedily as I pant hard and try to unwind.
“Well done, Amelie, you came in second,” Monty praises me. He looks far too excited.
“That asshole tried to break my fingers!” I yell at Onyx. “Why the hell did you stop me from breaking his face?”
I don’t give a shit where I finished right now, the red mist has come down now that I’m not focused on the course, and I want that rich prick’s blood.
“You did break his face, sis,” Kalen tells me with a wicked grin. “You smashed his nose. No amount of money or rhinoplasty will ever make that the same again.”
Onyx lets me go and all four of my guys surround me and take a look at my fingers. They don’t look pretty, but I can’t feel the pain. The cold, exhaustion and alcohol has numbed me.
“This is why we don’t let girls get involved,” Grandpa Knox announces in a scathing tone. For a second I think he means because I got hurt, but then he sneers “Girls and their emotions…”
“Fuck you old man! I smashed that damn course,” I snap. “Despite being woefully under prepared by my ‘family’ and apparently the only person in the dark about what today really means. If that asshat hadn’t stepped on my fingers, I would have smoked his ass.”
“Sure you would have, sweetie,” he snorts derisively, leaving the tent. I growl at his retreating form as Monty also follows behind him. I want to fight. I want blood. And I want it to be his.
I start to rant about him being an old wrinkly asshole and raging that I was the only girl which suddenly stops me in my tracks and I look up at the four men covered in mud standing before me.
“You all have some explaining to do,” I chastise them, eyes wide as the realisation actually hits me: I was the only damn girl. Why? “All these guys, all the tattoos and whatever the fuck is going on...”
The guys all exchange apprehensive looks, but they know I’ve got them on the ropes. I’ve more than proved I’m a force to be reckoned with, so they’re going to have to start spilling secrets. And soon.