by Tom Nicoll
“What happened to you?” I said.
Cruul slowly raised his head. “Oh … nothing. Just… I suppose my cooking does need a bit of work. Right, Milo?”
Milo smiled weakly but was saved from having to add anything when Ronald and Donald appeared on stage.
“Well, this might very well be it,” said Ronald. “The final challenge. Unless, that is, our young friend Sam prevails, in which case the competition will be decided by a third Golden Challenge.”
More like fourth, I thought. I caught Milo’s gaze and could tell he was thinking the same thing.
“We all know the stakes,” said Donald. “Now let’s crack on. Sam, as the only remaining member of Team Ellipsis, up you come. And joining you, from Team Accelerate … it’s Nigel.”
“Try to sound a bit more surprised,” said Cruul. It took him a few seconds to get to his feet and he looked very wobbly as he took to the stage.
A table and chairs were placed in front of us, though this table was much longer than the one they used for the first challenge. So another eating challenge? Cruul didn’t look like he could manage a slice of toast let alone whatever vile concoction the programme-makers had come up with this time.
“In case you were wondering – it’s not an eating challenge,” said Ronald. “It’s going to be much more explosive than that.”
“An interesting choice of words there,” noted Donald. “Explosive? Is that referring to the hostility we’ve seen between the two contestants? The rising tension that’s been bubbling over throughout the series, that we’ve been expecting will go KABOOM at any moment?”
“Er … no, mate,” said Ronald. “It’s because the challenge is to disarm bombs.”
“Bombs?” repeated Cruul. “For the first time in your careers are you actually being funny?”
“Meow!” said Donald, grinning. “That was harsh. But no, you heard right. Don’t worry – of course these aren’t proper bombs. They won’t kill you – honestly, Sam – but you will want to take a shower if you lose.”
Two small devices, each the size of a shoebox, were placed at opposite ends of the table. They had coloured wires sticking out of them and in the middle of each was what looked like an inflated balloon. Attached to the side was a clock with the following display:
“And how exactly are we supposed to disarm these things?” asked Cruul. “Do we at least get clues?”
“Oh, right, yeah,” said Ronald, slapping his forehead. He took a piece of paper from his pocket. “Glad you reminded me, I had completely forgotten about the riddles. Let’s see… Captain Thunderhooves, ten to one, twenty pounds to win. Hang on, that’s just one of my old betting slips. What have I done with the riddles? You got them, Donald?”
“Not me, mate,” said Donald. “You were supposed to have them.”
“Are you telling me you’ve lost them?” said Cruul with a heavy sigh.
“Um … in a manner of speaking…” said Ronald, looking apologetic. “I know there was something about a dove on one … and maybe a goblin or something… Ah, never mind. I’m sure two smart lads like you can figure it out.”
“And what happens if neither of us do?” asked Cruul.
“Then you’ll both need a wash,” said Donald. “Oh, I see what you mean. Yes, the first person to disarm their bomb wins. Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of spares stored in the back if you both need more goes.”
“Phew,” said Cruul.
“Are you ready?” said Ronald. “Go!”
The clocks on the devices started to count down. Cruul and I quickly took our seats.
We had to cut wires. I had seen enough movies to know that and the pair of clippers next to my bomb confirmed it. But that was as far as I got.
I looked over at Cruul. He had cut a red wire and nothing bad had happened. His clock still seemed to be counting down, though.
I was just about to cut the red wire when Ronald said, “Oh, we should have pointed out that no two bombs are the same so I wouldn’t recommend copying your neighbour on this particular challenge.”
I pulled my hand back.
A minute had already gone by and I was no closer to even knowing where to start. Meanwhile Cruul had cut a second wire, green this time. He turned my way, a thin smile on his face as if he was able to taste victory. But at least his clock continued to tick down.
I glanced over at Milo, who was giving me a strained look as if he knew what to do and was dying to tell me. It was the same look he used to get in class whenever I’d get asked a question I didn’t know the answer to.
But how could he know this time? Surely even Milo couldn’t figure out which random wires to cut on a bomb. I wasn’t sure he could even see it that well from where he was sitting. Unless…
Unless it didn’t matter which wires I cut.
Milo was certain I was going to win. If Cruul’s plan required a fourth artefact then it meant the Golden Challenge had to take place. And the only way to get to the final Golden Challenge was for me to win. And the only way to be sure I’d win was to make sure it didn’t matter what I did. Milo had been convincing last night but now, with a bomb under my nose, doubts were creeping in. After everything that had happened, how could I know for certain that this wasn’t a proper bomb? The kind that could blow me to smithereens.
BOOOOOOOOOMMMM!
The explosion almost knocked me off my chair. Across the table, Nigel Cruul sat shaking. Well, I think it was Cruul. It was hard to be sure through all the layers of what looked and smelled like animal dung.
The room erupted into laughter. Under normal circumstances I’d have joined in but my own counter showed I only had ten seconds left.
I had stopped trusting Milo once. I wasn’t going to do it again.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and started cutting random wires.
I opened my eyes and breathed out. The clock had stopped.
“We have a winner!” said Ronald.
My nerves were so shot I could barely process what had happened. Cruul was being led out of the cave by Karen. He had wiped some of the animal droppings off his face and looked absolutely furious. But I had a feeling that was only because of said various animal droppings and not because of the result itself. I wondered where they were taking him. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be flying home any time soon.
“Well done, Sam,” said Donald.
“Thanks,” I said, though it was hard to take credit for something I knew was fixed.
“Yes, congratulations, Sam,” said Ronald. “You’ve won the final Elimination Challenge. And now you and Milo will compete in the final Golden Challenge to find our winner. This will happen…”
“…right now!” finished Donald.
Milo and I stared blankly at the pair of them.
“Sorry, what?” I said.
“That’s right!” announced a very excited Ronald. “We’re not waiting another day to decide this.”
“We’re not?” I asked.
“No, we’re not,” confirmed Donald. “Ronald, why don’t you tell them what the challenge involves?”
“Thanks, Donald,” said Ronald. “Yes, of all the challenges this is the most arduous yet.”
In a competition that had included zorbing with scorpions, fights with alligators and getting chased by a demonic boar that was a worrying statement.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed –” continued Ronald – “the big mountain in the middle of this island?”
Milo and I nodded.
“Excellent,” he said. “Well, the final artefact currently sits atop that mountain. Whichever one of you brings it back is our End Games champion.”
So Milo was right – the mountain was the final challenge.
As we emerged from the cave a sharp, cold wind blew all around us and the blackest clouds I had ever seen had appeared in the distance.
“A storm’s coming,” said Milo. “Looks like a bad one. We’ll have to postpone the challenge.”
“Ah, probably just a
shower,” said Donald.
“That’s right,” agreed Ronald. “We’ll see you when you get back, yeah? We’ll be watching.” He pointed to the drone, which had just flown into view.
“Now we know this competition has really put a strain on your friendship,” said Donald, giving us what I think was supposed to be a caring smile. “But the quicker you get back, the sooner your relationship can be mended.”
I had almost forgotten that everyone still thought Milo and I weren’t speaking.
“We all set?” asked Ronald. “All right, then. For the final time – three … two … one…”
After being handed raincoats – just as a precaution, Ronald insisted – we set off.
“Shouldn’t we have equipment or something?” I asked Milo as the mountain loomed over us.
“On this show?” he replied.
“Good point.”
We didn’t talk much more after that as we concentrated on the terrain itself – a thin, rocky trail wrapping its way around the mountain like a python squeezing its prey. It would have been difficult enough to scale under normal circumstances but the rain lashing into our faces added that extra dimension of misery. The drone was having an especially hard time of it, the wind blowing it all over the place as it tried to keep track of us.
We were about two thirds of the way up when a gust of wind sent the drone flying past us. Without hesitation, Milo reached under his raincoat and ripped out his mic, then flung it over the side of the mountain. Not bothering to ask why, I did the same.
“When that thing comes back you need to disable it,” he said.
I nodded. “Right.” We waited for a moment while the drone readjusted itself. Like a drunken bee it swung its way towards us, until it was finally close enough for me to activate the Time-Out device. I pressed the button.
Nothing.
“What’s happening?” asked Milo. “Why’s it still up there?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “The Time-Out’s not working. Maybe it’s the rain or the battery has run out.”
“Or maybe they’re wise to it now,” said Milo. “I guess we’ll just have to do things the old-school way for this one.”
Another gust caught the drone again, knocking it behind us this time. Milo reached down and picked up a round flat rock. With a backhanded motion he hurled it through the air, smacking the drone and sending it hurtling towards the ground.
“Good aim,” I said, impressed.
“All the training we did for the Catch Me Like a Frisbee music video finally paid off,” said Milo. “Now, come on.”
The closer we got to the summit, the narrower the trail became. We had to climb the last dozen metres or so, scaling the rocks with just our bare hands. I tried to keep my head up, certain that if I looked down just for a second I’d quickly be joining the drone below. Finally, with scraped knees, bruised shins and bleeding palms, we made it.
With the rain still lashing down, we paused to get our breath back. Suddenly we heard a faint buzzing from somewhere above. At first I thought it was another drone but the noise grew louder and then there it was – a plane. It tipped from side to side as it flew past, its altitude dropping the whole time. It looked to be heading towards the strip of grass where the quad bike challenge had taken place.
“What’s it doing out in this weather?” asked Milo.
“Perhaps it’s come to take Cruul home,” I said, not really believing it. The plane looked similar in size to the one that had brought us to the island. “Or it could be the AIA. Maybe they got my message.”
“Maybe,” said Milo, not sounding convinced of either theory. “Let’s get moving.”
The summit of the mountain was rocky but largely flat. It didn’t take us long to find the artefact. Embedded into the rock itself was a golden skull.
“Of course,” said Milo, slapping his forehead. “I should have known.”
Only Milo could spot a gold skull sticking out of the ground and get annoyed that he hadn’t seen it coming. “What?” I asked.
“The artefacts,” he said. “Gah, it’s so obvious now. Remember what I told you about the Horsewomen back on the plane?”
I had to think for a second. “About them being Death, War, Famine and Pesticides,” I said.
“Pestilence!” he shouted. “But yeah. So the first Golden Challenge – Lexi goes up against some very hungry alligators. The artefact is an empty plate. That’s Famine. The second artefact, the insect, must be a locust – as in a plague of locusts. And if that boar that chased us doesn’t qualify as a pest then I don’t know what does. Next it’s Nigel’s secret challenge. Whatever happened down that pit, from the look of him he’d been through a war and I’d say as symbols of war goes, a dagger would do the job. And now we have a skull.”
“Death,” I said.
“Exactly. One for each of the Horsewomen. If these are what can bring the Horsewomen back then we’ve got no choice. We have to destroy that thing.”
“Actually, I was thinking about this on the way up,” I said.
Before I could explain further, Milo reached for the skull but as his hand got close to it, he stopped.
“I can’t touch it,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I dunno. It’s like there’s a force field around it or something. You try.”
I reached down and effortlessly picked up the skull.
“Hmm,” said Milo. “That’s odd.”
I turned the skull over in my hands. It felt cold and heavy but mostly it just filled me with dread. “Hey,” I said, a thought occurring to me. “If all the other challenges were related to the artefacts and to the Horsewomen in some way – Famine, Pestici—Pestilence, War – what’s the Death part of this challenge?”
As soon as I had finished speaking the rock beneath us started shaking. Right where the skull had been resting, the ground started crumbling away.
“You had to ask!” yelled Milo.
We sprinted towards the edge of the summit. By the time we got there, most of the mountain peak had fallen away to reveal a crater filled with furiouslooking molten lava. The volcano was neither dormant nor extinct. It was as awake as a volcano could possibly be.
I was about to start sliding down the rocks when I turned to see Milo, standing at the edge of the crater, staring into the lava.
“Come on,” I shouted. “Let’s go!”
“The skull!” he yelled back. “Throw it in! It’s our only chance to destroy it.”
“We can’t,” I said. “I’ll explain later but we have to go. Now!”
As I reached out to grab his hand, the ground beneath Milo’s feet gave way and he fell.
Voice: Sam! What happened? We lost audio and visual on you. Where’s Milo?
Sam: He’s… He’s gone… The volcano…
Voice: [Pause] Why did you come to the diary shed? Why not go back to the cave?
Sam: Tired … this was … closest place…
Voice: Sam, did you… Did you get the artefact?
Sam: [Holds up skull]
Voice: He’s got it. All right, Sam, just stay there. We’re evacuating the island. Someone’s coming to get you right now.
Sam: It’s over? No… No more?
Voice: Yes, Sam. It’s all over.
Moments later the diary shed door burst open and several Apocalytes were standing there. Two of them grabbed hold of me and dragged me from the shed. Another snatched the skull from my hands, whatever force that had prevented Milo from touching it apparently lifted.
I put up no struggle as my hooded captors marched me through the jungle in the pouring rain. I didn’t even bother trying to get a look at their faces. I had a pretty good idea who they were and knew I’d find out for certain soon enough.
I’m not sure how long we walked for. It could have been ten minutes or it could have been thirty. In front of me, in the distance, black smoke was billowing from the volcano. Wherever we were going, though, I wasn’t being evacuated.<
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Eventually they led me out into a large clearing. The area was marked by four massive standing stones, arranged in a square formation. All around the stones were little pink flowers. At first glance it reminded me a bit of Stonehenge, except with fewer stones and these ones were…
I gasped. They weren’t just stones. They were heads. Identical heads. Huge stone carvings of the Horsewomen, all looking right at me.
And then I knew what the flowers were. They were heather. Heatherstones.
Dozens of Apocalytes emerged from the jungle, filling the spaces between the stones. The pair who had been my escort merged into line with the others. Then another stepped forwards, giving me a slow clap.
“Congratulations,” said Cruul, lowering his hood. “You won. I thought you might. Sorry about your friend. You know, for what it’s worth, I actually quite liked him. He had talent. And he wasn’t half as annoying as you. Still, given what’s coming it’s probably best that he got out when he did.”
“Why, what’s coming?” I asked. I stood my ground as Cruul walked towards me, our eyes locked on each other the entire time.
“I’m sure by now you’ve guessed what’s coming,” he said. “Or rather … who.”
Cruul nodded towards the Apocalytes and the one who had seized the skull handed it to him. Cruul turned it over in his hands a couple of times before walking back to the stone head facing me.
I looked round at the stones and realized that embedded in the forehead of each Horsewoman was one of the Golden Artefacts – the plate, the locust and the dagger. And now the skull.
Cruul pressed it into what I knew had to be Veronica’s forehead.
I flung myself to the ground as flames shot out of the eyes of the Heatherstones, converging in the centre and quickly forming a giant molten ball. I had seen something like it once before – when I had witnessed the Horsewomen, in their boyband guise, appear to obliterate Steve.