Jim pats the figure’s cloaked arm. “We took the old flume and completely revamped the theming. Most of the track is the same, though I had our engineers add a little oomph to the last drop. It’s a doozy!”
My mouth begins to dry out. What’s with human beings and wanting to be flung at the ground at the highest speeds possible? I cannae take it anymore.
I pull Quinn aside as Jim and Cat discuss the ability to wear ponchos during the ride. It’s embarrassing enough to tell Quinn I want to sit this one out, and I don’t want the rest of the group to hear.
“Do you think you could take one for the team, lass?” I whisper. “I, uh...I’m not the biggest fan of getting soaked.”
I know it’s a lie. She knows it’s a lie. But she lets me tell it.
“Don’t worry a bit,” she says with a squeeze of my hand. “I’ve got this. However the Cattle are killed, I’ll get the clue for us.”
We turn back to Jim as he begins explaining how this game will work.
“You’ll board the ride in your pairs”—he turns to Cat—“sans ponchos.”
Cat grumbles.
“Once the ride begins, you’ll have until the final drop to murder your Cattle rider before the ride photo is taken. Any teams whose pictures feature Cattle faces will be disqualified, as will anyone who doesn’t dispatch their Cattle before the final drop.”
I glance at Quinn, who seems unperturbed by this plan. Isn’t she the slightest bit concerned she won’t be able to make the kill? What if the Cattle overpowers her?
“So, who’s up first?” Jim asks with a devilish grin.
Kindra looks around and asks the question most of us are already thinking. “Are we supposed to use weapons? Or does the ride have some sort of?—”
Jim holds out his hands. “Please, no more questions from the press. All will be revealed once you’re inside.”
Kindra rolls her eyes and grabs Ezra’s wrist, then drags him into the darkness beneath the Grim Reaper’s weapon. “Come on, Ezra. We might as well get this...” There’s a brief moment of silence before she shouts, “Jesus fucking Christ!”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Frankie says. She glances up at Maverick, who wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her closer.
Bennett offers the same comfort to Cat, and even Eve does her best to soothe the worry on Ice Pick’s face. Grim and Rose are busy discussing it in their own way, but they both seem more excited than nervous.
And here I stand, ready to let the girl go it alone because I’m afraid of a little log flume.
I don’t wrap my arm around her shoulder, but I find her hand and give it a squeeze. “Changed my mind, lass. I’m coming with.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod before good sense catches up with me.
When Jim calls for the next group a few seconds later, I’m glad when Quinn doesn’t jump at the offer. She lets Cat and Bennett have that honor. Once Jim has confiscated their ponchos, he sends them through the door.
“Jim, you fucking suck!” Bennett shouts toward the group a few moments after he’s disappeared.
Now the curiosity is getting the better of me. I lean closer to Quinn. “Maybe we should go next and get this out of the way,” I whisper.
“I think you’re right,” she says with a gulp.
Jim calls for the next group, and I step forward. I take Quinn’s hand, pretending it’s more for her sake, but the lass and I know the awful truth. I’m fucking terrified.
We slip under the scythe, and the darkness continues. Candles line a dungeon-like passage for a few feet, and then we’re met with a wall of water. It cascades from the ceiling in a thin curtain, and there is no way to continue without getting drenched.
“I’m not walking through that,” Quinn says, and I’m inclined to agree. The point of a water ride is to get wet...on the ride. You aren’t meant to be drowned going into it. She looks up at me. “I’m not wearing waterproof mascara, Aven.”
“Me neither.”
She grumbles and takes a step forward, and I’m right behind her. A scream squeezes out of her as frigid water douses her entire body, and I damn near let the same sound out of me. Who the fuck designed this shit to be the same temperature as fucking Neptune?
