After taking lunch in my room, Aven and I join five other teams of two outside the Pirate Plunder ride. It’s only once we arrive that Jim explains what we’ll be doing.
“Everyone, listen up. The game is simple. You’ll need to ride rides to get clues, and the clues will eventually lead you to your target. The first team to extract information from their target will be declared the winner. If both members of your team refuse a ride, your team is out of the game.”
Cat raises her hand. “Bennett and I don’t do water rides.”
Jim pulls a notecard from his breast pocket and runs his finger down the paper. “Then you’ll last as long as round three.”
Cat and Bennett start grumbling to each other, as do most of the other pairs. They’re likely trying to figure out who is willing to ride what and if this is just an exercise in futility.
I turn to Aven. “I’m not afraid of anything, so we won’t have any issues there.”
“Aye, me neither,” he says, but I distinctly recall the way Sim Aven closed his eyes on the coaster. Not to mention the way he ran off when Desmond offered to ride Iron Tiger with me. Maybe his fear of heights had something to do with it.
I glance up at Aven again, but his face is a stone mask. He shows no emotion.
“Let the games begin!” Jim raises a starting pistol and fires it into the air, and the entire group rushes to get on the ride.
Pirate Plunder is a large ship that swings higher and higher until it eventually goes upside down. It’s not my favorite ride at an amusement park, but it’s also not the worst.
I slide onto the long bench seat, and Aven presses in against me. His shorts ride up a bit, making it so that our exposed thighs touch. Heat rockets through me, and I pretend I don’t notice. I don’t want him to move away or lower his shorts. I’m thirsty for something more from him, and I’m desperately grasping at whatever I can get.
“Sorry about that, lass.” He pulls his shorts down and squishes in tighter as Kindra, Ezra, Eve, and Ice Pick join our row.
Motherfucker.
Cat, Bennett, Frankie, Maverick, Grim, and Rosie fill the row in front of us.
Another few rows of bench seats face us on the opposite end of the ship. As we’re buckling safety belts and double-checking the lap bar, staff members begin popping a few Cattle into those seats. Oddly enough, the staffers buckle them in. I figured they’d let them fall right out, but no, they lower the lap bar, too.
“I don’t like these sorts of rides,” a woman in a yellow jumpsuit says. Her hands are fastened behind her back, but her legs are free. She tries to stand, but the lap bar holds her in place. “Let me off!”
The red Cattle sitting in front of her turns in his seat. “Would you shut the fuck up for once? We’re strapped in. It’s not like we’ll fall out.”
The woman struggles against the lap bar again, realizes he’s right, that she couldn’t get out if she wanted to, then settles in her seat again.
A ride attendant raises his thumb, signaling that they’re ready to run the ride, and another attendant nods and fires back the same signal.
“Oh, one more thing!” Jim calls. “Your first clues are hidden on the Cattle. Happy hunting!”
A loud buzzer sounds, followed by aclickthat I can feel in my feet. I tug on our row’s shared lap bar, afraid it’s come undone, but it’s still firmly in place. A breath of relief shudders out of me as the massive ship begins to move.
We slide backward first, which is forward for the Cattle. When the ship gets a little lift, it drops and goes the other way. My ponytail flies away from my neck, and I grip the lap bar with a squeal and a smile as my stomach drops. Gravity pulls me down, down, down, and then we’re moving backward and rising again, a little higher this time.
On the third pendulous swing, the Cattle lap bar rises. The click I felt in my feet was their side of the restraints coming undone, not ours. With their hands buckled behind their backs, they can’t even hold on for dear life.
I laugh and turn to Aven, but he isn’t looking at me. I don’t think he sees anything as he stares at the dipping horizon and grips the lap bar with every ounce of his inhuman strength. The soft vinyl gives under his fingertips, and his knuckles blanch.
I wiggle my hand beneath his and give it a squeeze as the ship starts to rise again. His hold on the lap bar relaxes as he turns to look at me.
“Are you having a nice time?” he bellows over the rush of wind and creaking gears.
“Aye!” I shout with a smile.
My use of his native tongue seems to undo something inside him, and the fear in his eyes slips away, if only a little. He manages a smirk before the ship goes into another dive. His face contorts, and he grits his teeth as the vessel takes our stomachs.
At the apex of this lift, one of the Cattle loses his fight with gravity and tumbles out of his seat. The ride starts its backward swing on our side and sends his body flipping all the way to the back of the ship. He lands on the platform, giving us the perfect view of his fatal disfigurement as we rise and rise and nearly goupside down. His legs twist at unnatural angles as he wriggles below us, and one of his arms is definitely broken. It won’t matter, though, because the ship swings over him and silences his screams.
Kindra raises her arms and lets out a squeal, and Ezra does the same. I want to as well, but Aven is struggling, so I stay quiet and just keep squeezing his hand.
