Epic Escape (7 page)

Megan didn’t blame them, Chase was gorgeous. When she reached the midway mark, two bimbos appeared alongside the vat. They clapped and shimmied, a duo of sequin-dressed cheerleaders. Cheesy, but okay.

The bimbos reached behind their backs and lifted
sequin-covered slingshots. Megan’s smile died while the audience shouted with joy. The first bimbo loaded her slingshot and fired a rubbery object her way. She missed. With each try, the bimbo’s aim improved.

When the first projectile finally hit, it felt like squishy, clinging blob. Megan wanted to flinch or dodge, but knew if she did, she’d fall. She had to let them plop against her skin, where they clung a moment before blobbing off.

The audience called out the names of the flying objects as they arched through the air, “Lemur! Sea urchin! Dingo!”

Ducking and weaving, Riley reached the midway mark. A rubber octopus flew his way, larger than some of the other projectiles with greater extensions. At least, Megan hoped the thing was rubber.

“Octopus!”

Riley dodged, but a stray tentacle grazed him. He swerved backward, swayed for a moment, caught himself, and started forward too swiftly. Wobbling, he struggled to stay up.

Chase caught up to him and extended a single finger.
Poke.

Riley went down.

“Gelatin! Gelatin!”

Riley hit the bottom, bent his knees, and jumped. His hands fell short of the plank. He jumped again. Chase watched and laughed.

Could he even breathe?

Riley grasped the board and swung his body up toward the plank.

The gelatin fought back, then relinquished its prey.
Plop.
Riley released the board long enough to swipe a hand over his face and green blobs dripped from his black hair, giving him an alien appearance.

Megan relaxed and bet herself he’d get a haircut after this.

Chase sauntered forward.

Riley rested a moment then attempted to rise to his knees. His arm stayed down because the bandage around his earlier injury caught underneath the plank. He struggled against the snare, using his free hand to fight the knot.

Chase said, “Your pink scarf get stuck?” Riley stretched his leg out and kicked Chase’s walkway. Chase went over backwards, arms pin wheeling. He grabbed the misaligned board before his head submerged.

Quick reflexes.

“Gelatin! Gelatin!” the audience chanted.

“I’m really stuck,” Riley said, “Get back here and help.”

Chase monkey barred his way back to Riley and reached over to un-snare the bandage. “It’s like you’re mating with that board.”

Whatever had snared Riley caught Chase’s watch. Chase was trapped too, stretched between two planks. “Crap.”

Riley said, “Megan, we’re stuck.”

Megan, almost to the end, bit her lip and stared longingly at the end zone and the solid platform: victory, dryness, two feet away. She was so close. Could she touch it, win, then go back and help? She glanced back at her competition. A projectile flew by her head and clung to her hair.

“Sea urchin!”

Lifting a hand, she knocked the repellant creature loose. The urchin sank into its new lime green home. She worked her way back to the trapped guys and assessed the difference between the planks. There was no way she could reach them from her board. She took a big step and landed on Chase’s plank.
Wobble.
She corrected her balance, knelt, and stretched across. Bracing on Riley’s board, she reached under. Her fingers brushed fabric. The wetness seemed to have made the knot tighter. Megan leaned further. She still couldn’t get it. Taking a deep breath, she swung off her board. The gelatin offered no resistance against the force of her weight, and her body sliced through the cold wet mass. The scent of too-sweet lime rushed up her nostrils.

“Gelatin! Gelatin!”

OMG, they sucked.
Clinging to Riley’s board with one arm, Megan searched under the plank. She spotted the slivers of wood restraining the guys and freed them.

Chase jumped back to his board, rubbing his wrist.

Riley moved slower and helped pull her up behind him.

Once she was upright, clumps of the gelatin slithered down her body, fighting between clinging to her skin and rejoining their home. She shoved at the wet blobs. Chase stared while she lost the battle to get clean.

One of the bimbos shimmied closer, aiming for a good shot with an open-jawed crocodile. Megan flicked the goo at her until she retreated.
Awesome.
Sucking in a breath, she moved to return to her board. Her attempt caused Riley’s walkway to sway and dip. Riley froze, his arms stretched straight out as he tried to maintain his balance, and said, “Just stay.”

Megan stopped. “Okay.” They progressed along the walkways, Chase on his original plank, Riley and Megan sharing one. This time, Chase proceeded with more caution, and anytime an object came his way, he snagged the creature and launched at a back at the shooter. The audience adored him, but the bimbos looked pissed.

Megan slipped frequently as the goo on her feet made the surface slimy, but she stayed on. Riley, ahead of her, got to the end, reached back for her hand, and they grasped the solid, dry bar together. Chase hit the bar at the same time.

Had he waited for them?

A chime sounded but the host didn’t announce a winner.

They climbed down and moved toward the Circle of Shame with fast steps, leaving lime slime trails in their wakes.

They entered circle to await the verdict.

“Unique, unique.” the host said, “They all hit the bar of victory together. A three-way tie.”

A jet sprayed a shower of cold water from overhead, freeing her from the slime, but shocking her with the temperature. Megan covered her eyes and shivered under the wetness until the hose stopped.

“Gear up. You three all earned the right to compete in the final round.”

T
he soft draped toga wasn’t much warmer than the bikini. Megan clasped her arms around her waist, trying not to shake as she rejoined the guys, dried and made up.

Veronica, still pink-cheeked with victory, didn’t appear cold at all. She looked at them with tears of laughter in her eyes.

Riley glared at her. “Don’t,” he warned.

Veronica giggled, an unusual sound for her, and laughing tears spilled over her cheeks.

While they were changing, someone had set the stage with two identical doors. The host gestured between them. “History demands you choose. Behind one door is your soul mate, behind the other, fierce danger. Choose your fate, my fearless foursome.”

There was no difference between the doors. How were they supposed to pick. Megan looked at Veronica who had narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. Riley looked like he was about to charge the host.

They were screwed.

Chase shrugged and strode toward the nearest door, the one on the right.

Veronica screamed, “Left,” and ran after him.

Chase pivoted, going left.

“Danger! Danger!”

They reacted differently to the audience’s cries: Megan sent the audience disgusted look, Riley flipped them the finger; and Chase opened the door.

Bright lights blinded her. When her eyesight adjusted, Megan took in a familiar scene. They stood in a football stadium filled with a noisy crowd. The crowd had an energy that could only mean one thing--game night.

Megan wrapped her arms around her bare midriff and looked down. She wore a purple and white cheerleader uniform. Her brown hair corkscrewed past her shoulders in cheer curls.

Even Veronica’s bob sported clip-on cheer curls.
LOL.
Veronica was going to hate that almost as much as she’d hate the glitter makeup accenting her face. Megan touched her own cheek and her fingertips came away carrying a shimmer. Pretty.

Chase and Riley wore football uniforms. Chase looked like he did every game night. Hot.

Riley filled out his uniform nicely but appeared out of place. Who was she kidding? They were all out of place.

The end zone scoreboard read,
Home team 9, Visitors 10
. One moment she was assessing the scene, the next, she became a part of it.

A nearby cheerleader braced her pompoms on her hips and stared at Megan and Veronica with expectation. “Formation girls.” Megan found her feet carrying her over to the squad, time to step up, no time to check the clues.

The guys got sucked in too when the coach waved at them. “You two, over here.” Coach shoved the football into Chase’s chest. “Get your head in the game. Score this mother and end it.”

“You got this,” Riley said, “You can go off on your own. You’re good at that.”

“You too 24,” Coach said.

Riley wore the number
twenty-four
emblazoned on his uniform. He hitched a foot on the bench and reached for a bottle of Gatorade. “Sorry Coach, I don’t play. Chase will pull this out for you.”

Chase said, “Way to keep trying, Rudy.”

Riley snagged a beverage and waved the bottle at Chase. Chase waved back with one middle finger, and joined the other jocks on the field. He stood taller, more confident than the others.

Megan elbowed Veronica and Veronica clapped half-heartedly toward the crowd, her expression worried. The mascot shoved a poster board cutout of a glittery
L
at her and Veronica took it.

The cutout letter “
O”
passed to Megan. Glitter sprayed off the signs and Megan felt a sharp sting in her left eye. “Ouch.” She lifted her eyelid and turned to Veronica. “Is there glitter in my eye?”

“I can’t tell. Blink it out.”

T
he football players formed a semicircle around Chase, eyes expectant. “What’ll we do?” Number 23 asked.

Chase realized he’d have to call the play. “Uh, okay…” Chase looked around, then back down to the group. “Fake hand off left, and I’ll run the ball right.”

Number 23 shifted on his cleats and blinked his eyes. “I hate going left. The stadium lights on that side always hit me in the eyes.”

Chase frowned at him through his facemask. “I said
right
, not left.”

Number 50, pulled out his mouthpiece and poked at the saliva-covered plastic.

“Problem?”

“My mouthpiece tastes funny.”

Chase shoved 50’s hand and the mouthpiece popped back into his mouth.

“Break.”

The football players took their positions and hiked the ball to Chase. Chase caught it. He faked a handoff. The fake receiver looked confused and kept his hands at his sides, leaving Chase wide open.

Boom
.

The weight hit him, and he flew to the ground.

Sacked.

T
he cheerleaders formed a line that spelled “
Go Lions.”

Megan, still blinking, moved out of formation to squeeze in by Veronica. “Can you check again? My eye hurts.” The smell of hairspray helped her eyes water, but she still felt the sting of something in her eyes. She blinked at Veronica, who took a look.

Veronica said, “I don’t see it.”

“Idiot,” a student with a painted face yelled down at them. “Moron cheerleaders, learn how to spell!” Others chanted the sentiment and Megan had to dodge a hot dog.

“What?” She scanned the line, noting that her position by Veronica had changed the cheer. The cutouts now spelled,
Go Loins.

The head cheerleader wiped mustard from her cheek and grabbed the sign from Megan. “Stupid freshman.”

“But I’m a senior.”

A male cheerleader put his arm around her shoulders, leaned in close, and winked. “Wink at me one more time, and I’ll have to take you into the tunnel.”

Megan backed away. “It’s the glitter. I wasn’t winking at you.”

“Right, you didn’t just spell
go loins
, and wink at me.”

Second Down.

The players re-formed into a huddle.

“Okay, I’ll pass to 23 and you take the ball straight up the middle.” Chase jabbed a finger at 50, who was fiddling with his mouthpiece again. “I’d better see some blocking from you.” The night breeze blew over them and the stadium lights revealed the faces of his team. No one’s head was in the game.

“Joellen broke up with me,” Number 50 said, “My heart’s not really in it.”

“Your heart?” Chase asked. “Are you kidding me?”

Number 50 gave him a hurt look. “I love her.”