Chapter 30
Elliot offers to buy a round of iced coffees for extra fuel that we all desperately need, apart from Josh.
He excitedly zips from food stall to shop to small stage to charity shop to absorb whatever is on offer.
I envy his energy more than ever (as does Hennie, who whispers to Owen, ‘What do you feed him?’)
‘What’s down there?’ Hennie asks.
Josh nods at the path as if it were an old friend. ‘That would be Ransom. The one who eludes me.’
‘Doesn’t look like much from here,’ Hennie notes, unimpressed.
‘Ah, ’tis the beauty of the venue!’ Josh elaborates. ‘You don’t know what you’ll find until you’re inside. It’s Firecrest legend.’
I lean forward with my hands on my knees to peer underneath the leaves hiding the sight at the end of the path.
I can make out what looks like a regular front door – except for two things.
The first is that it isn’t attached to any walls, only countless trees and colourful planks of wood surrounding it.
The other is that there’s a painting of a bright red lobster on it.
‘Elliot, look,’ I gasp, grabbing his wrist.
Elliot, followed by the others, crouches next to me to look through the trees.
‘Oh, shit! That can’t be a coincidence?’ Hennie says.
Josh is already shaking his head. ‘You want to try to get into Ransom? Now? We have no intel. I’ve tried.’
‘Maybe we should try, just to be sure?’ I suggest, looking to Elliot.
He nods and sets off down the path first.
‘There’s no point, team,’ Josh offers, but I just shoot him a smile and usher him to follow me. ‘I’m prepped for this rejection, but I fear you are not!’
‘If we do get in, you should know that Ham will go feral,’ Owen says with a laugh.
‘Am I invisible,’ Ham calls from the back of the group as we hurry down the path. ‘Hennie, pinch me to check.’
I hear his high-pitched shriek shortly after.
Elliot and I reach the door first to find a regular golden knocker attached to the centre with a message scribbled next to it. He leans closer to read it.
‘What does it say?’ Owen asks.
‘‘Entry to noteworthy guests and esteemed colleagues,’’ Elliot reads with a question mark in his tone.
‘Noteworthy?’ Hennie scoffs. ‘Does that mean you’re on some kind of press list, or what?’
Ham shrugs. ‘Perhaps. At least I’m not the only one who cares about Ransom for once. Even though we still won’t get in, it’s very refreshing.’
Without another word, Elliot reaches for the door handle and tries to open it, to no avail. It doesn’t even budge.
I try the door knocker next, picking it up and tapping it down firmly twice.
After a few moments, to my shock, the door opens. A tall man in a grey suit holds the door ajar and his eyes flick over us in silence. He takes in my nervous grin, Elliot’s crossed arms, Hennie’s unimpressed scowl. Owen and Josh’s eyes wide with anticipation.
And then, without a word, he shuts the door.
I think I hear something along the lines of ‘fucking joke’ uttered under Owen’s breath, and Elliot just looks at me with a helpless shrug.
‘Nice,’ Hennie announces. ‘Yeah, very cool venue, Ham.’
Josh responds with an indignant glare.
‘It’s okay,’ I say brightly. ‘We knew it was a long shot.’
But my eyes catch on the door for a second, and I find it hard to step away from it.
There’s an undeniable pull toward it to see what’s inside – to follow our hunt through to the very end.
And I cannot argue with the voice that tells me that this is it.
The answer to our latest clue is behind this door.
What we have been seeking is just within reach; if only we knew how to access it.
‘We tried,’ Elliot murmurs, bumping my shoulder lightly.
I shoot him a quick smile. ‘It was nice to hope for a minute.’
The others have already started to retreat back up the path in a flurry of excited conversation about Route 16. I avoid Elliot’s probing eyes.
‘Come on, lovebirds! No dawdling!’ Josh calls back to us.
That gets me moving.
I turn on my heel and make my way up the small trail with Elliot on my heels and a prickling heat on my cheeks.
We make our way through Route 16, and it’s clear that it truly comes to life during the daytime.
In the middle of the hammocks, a small bandstand has been erected and a wrinkled man with a long, plaited beard is playing a cello on it.
People surround him sitting cross-legged, the hammocks all full with content nappers and dozers.
The theming in Route 16 is minimal compared to the other areas, perhaps due to its promise of sanctuary and lack of stimulation for the more anxious festival-dweller.
But there’s a simple charm to it; everyone lounging in the shadows of the trees, eating ice cream and relaxing in the sofas outside the Mumble Motel.
It all makes me breathe a little easier.
‘So, one of our traditions,’ Josh begins, spinning to face Hennie and I (who I have been stuck to since the lovebird comment). ‘Every year we check out what game people are playing in the Mumble Motel.’
Hennie and I just look at him. She looks very wary.
‘They have a Playstation One in the living room,’ Owen explains with a grin. ‘And there’s one game in the drive; it changes every year.’
Hennie shoots me a sour look. She doesn’t care much for video games as she never had access to them growing up, but it was my first method of bonding with my brother.
Elliot pulls the front door of the Mumble Motel open and holds it for each of us, and I avoid his eyes as I make my way in.
The lighting is murky inside, revealing a long hallway lined with wood and dangling chandeliers covered in spiderwebs and dust. The word reception in neon lettering hangs in the doorway of a room on the left, but we go past it and down the busy hallway.
Owen guides me towards the doorway on my right, and I poke my head inside to see what looks like a stuffy living room.
A warm, dim light seeps through the room as the only window has been covered with thick velvet curtains, and the walls have been adorned with endless paintings: still lives of fruit, horses standing in lush greenery and portraits of pretty women in waistcoats.
Bookshelves line the walls and hanging in the centre of the space is a glowing light fixture, made out of what looks like old tea towels cut into diamond shapes.
People have gathered around an ancient-looking, grainy television, a couple sitting close together in front of it with game controllers in their hands.
They both lean from side to side in tandem with the movements of the racing cars on the screen.
‘Happy with the choice this year?’ I prompt Owen.
‘Oh shit, yes. WipeOut 2097, legendary game. Ham, get in here!’
Josh returns with Hennie and Elliot in tow and we make ourselves comfortable with the queue of competitors waiting to play.
Josh mutters under his breath about this being ‘a farce’ and that they have ‘never had to queue before’, which is behaviour from him that no longer surprises me.
There are two worn sofas facing the television along with a handful of armchairs covered with dark-red velvet.
I grab Hennie and try to drag her into the free armchair with me, but she gives me an affectionate pat and sits on the floor in front of it between my knees.
Elliot settles on the arm of my chair as I throw myself into it with a contented sigh. His arm rests on the top of the chair behind me, leaving my body surrounded by the edges of his. His woody scent immediately clouds my senses and I have to fight to not gaze up at him.
We wait for two more pairs to do their race, joining in with the crowds’ cheers whenever someone flies off the track or takes the win.
Owen and Josh finally step forward, taking their place in front of the TV with their legs stretched out in front of them.
There’s something wonderfully boyish about their chuckles as they goad each other with taunts, quickly clicking through the vehicle selection screens.
Elliot lightly taps my arm, and I finally tilt my head up to see his sly smile.
‘Want to make things interesting?’ he asks, keeping his voice low.
‘How so?’
‘Bets are on, who do you think is gonna win?’ he asks. I narrow my eyes in scepticism.
‘What exactly am I betting?’
‘Hmm,’ he ponders, his eyes moving around the room before alighting with something mischievous. ‘How about a dare situation? You win, you get to tell me to do something – I win, vice versa.’
I purse my lips and scan his face for signs of trickery. The opportunity to challenge him to do whatever I want is an intriguing one, for sure. And I know he wouldn’t dare me to do something horribly humiliating, given what he knows about me now.
His gentle smile elicits a kind of warmth in my belly that temporarily renders me speechless, and I can’t think of anything to say to him other than, yes, of course, I’ll do whatever you like. I lift my chin up to him and nod.
‘Fine. I’m betting on Owen.’
‘Good. I wanted Josh,’ he says, leaning back behind me with a contented look.
I quickly wonder if I’ve made a mistake.
‘Go Ham!’ Hennie shouts, clapping loudly. Owen whips his head to her with an outraged glare and she responds with a rude gesture.
For the first time, I wonder if Hennie has been flirting with Owen all weekend and I just haven’t noticed it. I nudge her back with my knee to get her attention, and her blonde head spins round to me. My eyebrows lift in a silent question, to which she just rolls her eyes and faces the TV again.
The race begins with a deep voice calling ‘Go’ and I exchange a quick glance with Elliot. But almost immediately, Owen’s craft bounces off the side of another racer and collides with the wall, leaving him facing the wrong direction. My eyes widen with horror.
‘Oh, shit,’ I whisper.
Elliot shakes with laughter next to me. ‘That’s tough luck,’ his voice rumbles.
‘You scammer,’ I snap, glowering at him. ‘You knew this would happen.’
‘Nope. They’re both really fucking good at video games,’ he says, that boyish grin lighting up his features.
I scowl up at him as the race continues and Owen spends the next lap desperately trying to catch up.
‘Come on, Owen!’ I call out.
‘Cool cool, thanks everyone for your support!’ Josh shouts back dryly, his body leaning forward at a deeply uncomfortable-looking angle.
Owen yowls with victory as he passes two more crafts. ‘I’m catching up to you, Ham sandwich,’ he teases.
‘I love you, but you’re never gonna pass me,’ Ham says plainly.
They enter the last lap with Owen hot on Josh’s tail, both of them screeching all the while. Josh’s body sways from side to side while Owen is totally still, his eyes laser-focussed on the screen.
My mind starts to rattle through potential dares that Elliot is currently devising. Will he make me jump in the lake to see the eels? I risk another quick glance up at him as he looks down with that predictable, impossibly beautiful smirk.
‘You’ve got this, Josh,’ he cheers.
‘Thank you, fans!’ Josh yells.
Despite his best efforts, Owen crawls behind Josh for the final lap and the race ends with a howl of victory from Josh. I sigh and force myself to applaud him.
‘An honour,’ Josh announces, going to shake Owen’s hand with a luminous smile. Owen just looks at it with disdain.
‘Rigged,’ he scoffs as he stands up to pass the controller to the next player.
‘Agreed,’ I say, shooting a glare Elliot’s way.
He lounges happily beside me and strokes his chin in thought. ‘So many possibilities… what will I make you do?’ he mutters to himself.
An incredibly unwelcome fire lights in the centre of my belly at his words combined with his dark rasp. This is torturous.
‘You’re not daring me to give up the stick, I’ll say that.’
‘I’m thinking of something much more interesting than that,’ he retorts.
I use my shoulder to shove him off the edge of the armchair and delight at the light yelp that escapes him. He catches himself and lands on his feet but for a moment he looks beautifully dishevelled, his hair falling over his eyes as they shoot me a glare.
Owen and Josh approach, still bickering.
‘Are you feeling okay? That was quite humiliating,’ Josh says.
‘Humiliating? I practically gave you the win by crashing out, you didn’t even have to race.’
‘Gosh, you’re very rattled. Would you like to sit down?’ Josh replies with delight.
‘Nice racing, lads,’ Hennie says, as we all stand to leave. ‘Devastating blow, Owen.’
‘Okay, I’d beat all the rest of you in a heartbeat so you’d better shut up,’ he quips, resulting in us breaking out in giggles. ‘Especially you, Walker.’
‘You’re not wrong, buddy,’ Elliot says, patting his back consolingly.
We make our way back outside with one of Josh’s annual tasks on his checklist completed, and he has an even greater spring in his step as a result. A quick discussion takes place on where to head next, and we make a loose plan to walk towards The Warren to see what’s happening around there.
Elliot and I trail behind the others when he suddenly turns to me with a knowing glimmer in his eye.
Oh no.
‘What now?’ I demand, exasperated.
‘I think I might have just had a small breakthrough,’ he says, a hint of deviousness in his tone. I frown.
‘What? On the last clue?’
‘No.’ He grins. ‘But I do have a dare for you.’