“We can’t guarantee she’ll beat him, and as long as PB’s here, we’re all at his mercy,” I replied. “Imogen and I are the best pick to take him out tonight.”
“Unless the trivia categories are English lit, childcare, and the NFL, I doubt that.” She held my gaze. “Luke, we said we’d be honest with each other. I can hold my own, and Fortune’s no idiot. Don’t put your game on the line to give me a pass I’m not asking for.”
“It’s the best thing forallour games,” I said, though Erika looked unconvinced.
She left me and passed by Shawn, who was brooding sulkily at craftservices. He’d barely spoken since I’d told him our new plan. Rather than stir him up, I joined Imogen on our concrete platform right as PB sprinted over. I suppressed my disgust and resolved to play dumb.
“So you talked to Camdon?” he whispered. Imogen and I traded a stony glance but kept quiet as Zara called places.
“Okay, I’m sorry, I get it, I deserve the silent treatment, but you still need to vote for me. Nothing good happens if you try something reckless tonight.” With one last cryptic look, he departed, leaving me to wonder if he was ahead of us already, even then.
“We still doing this?” I asked Imogen, Ecklund hitting his mark.
“You took my lead last time. Besides, if we’re sprinting into open fire, at least it’s on our terms,” she replied, and my chest filled with pride. Me and Im, against the world.
Ecklund was already opining when I raised my hand. “Drew? We don’t need to vote tonight,” I announced. “Imogen and I are going in.”
Jiamin’s eyes darted to us, confused and pissed. While PB seemed equally livid, he remained unsurprised—unlike Troy, who almost tripped, rushing to Zara on the sidelines.
“So you and Imogen forfeit immunity?” Ecklund asked, and Troy flashed a vivid red. Clearly, this was not the narrative he was chasing today. “Okay, Imogen and Luke are eligible,” Ecklund declared with a shrug. “Y’all can vote for anyone.”
“No, there’s no vote,” I corrected. “We volunteer.”
“Sorry, Katniss, the first teamhasto be voted in, nonnegotiable.”
“Well, I vote for us!” I snapped, Imogen seconding me.
Melange echoed us, though Shawn just sullenly nodded. Ecklund insisted he vocalize it, prompting an explosion: “Yes, goddammit, Luke and Imogen!” The whole Arena jumped in shock, me most of all. Why washeso angry?
The disaster played out in slow motion. Jiamin and PB both voted for themselves, though a furious Greta and Aspen took shots at each other. Camdon and Tati predictably chose PB and Greta, and then we arrivedat Erika and Fortune. I looked at her insistently. “Vote for us,” I mouthed.
She hesitated, eyeing Fortune, then finally announced, “I can’t ask Luke and Imogen to fight my battles. I vote Jiamin and Aspen.” Fortune followed suit, yielding a tie once again.
Incredulously I turned to Imogen, but she was at a loss. “We’ll target PB if he stays,” Imogen whispered apologetically, “But tonight’s not the night. This has gone south.” Before I could protest, she addressed Ecklund. “I’ll switch to Jiamin and Aspen. Let’s not drag this out.”
Jiamin nodded her thanks, sincerely grateful. “Drew, we’ll go against PB and Greta.”
I had no clue who to blame. All I knew was I could have made all this go away.
As if on cue, PB stalked by to get his helmet, eyes dead as a shark’s. He didn’t even dignify us with a glance. Not that I would have offered anything supportive if he had.
“Sole Mates” (a too-apt Trial name that Troy probably divined right before we arrived) bound each pair together at their ankles and tethered them to a crank with taut ropes, which provided resistance as they crawled through the gravel to the Arena’s center. Only by answering one of Ecklund’s trivia questions correctly would they get more slack in their rope to advance. Whoever made it to the center first would strike a red detonator, eliminating the other team.
Once the horn sounded, PB and Greta hauled themselves through the rocks, answering every question correctly. All the trivia was about the previous nineteen seasons ofEndeavor, so this definitely would have been the worst Trial I could have gone into. Meanwhile, Jiamin essentially refused to participate, gravel piling around her as Aspen bombed questions left and right. Greta gassed out quickly but kept clawing alongside PB. The sweat poured down his face as he advanced, not looking at Jiamin once. By contrast, her eyes never left him.
Even then, I didn’t believe it was the prospect of quitting that scared PB. I think it was the loss of control, his agency blatantly ripped from his hands.Hadn’t that been why Barnes lashed out at me after I proposed the divorce? Now PB had to answer Jiamin’s ultimatum in front of the whole world, cutting out his heart for all to see. For one last moment, despite everything I’d now witnessed, I still hoped PB might surprise me.
But his eyes bored into the gravel, and he slammed the button to win the Trial, his palm coursing toward the target as if it had been destined to go there all along.
PB crouched in the stones after the horn blared, hunched and panting. Maybe he thought he’d get to say one last thing to her, some excuse or justification. She didn’t give him the chance. Jiamin rose from the mound of stones that had accumulated around her and undid her mic pack. She handed it to the nearest crew member and walked off theEndeavorset, never once looking back. It was Troy who chased after her, pleading like a jilted lover, but her only response was two middle fingers on either side of her face.
30
2015
SEASON 20, EPISODE 7:
“Ain’t No Mountain High Enough… (Part One)”
