The Death Games

by Vannah Summers

  When it came down to myself and another skinny teenager, I was sure my day had come. The girl beside me with braces and knobbly knees stepped forward as Mateo pointed to her.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I gawked at the girl as she joined Mateo’s team. “You chose braceface? Over me?”

  “I guess that means you’re with us, shrimp,” Natalia said in grudging invitation.

  “Aw, how sweet of you.” I flipped her my middle finger as I joined her group. When I was alive, I was always picked last in gym class. Some things never changed.

  Death and his followers herded us down a dusty path, and I pulled my t-shirt over my mouth so I wouldn’t inhale too much dirt. The sooty air concealed more of the terrain the farther we trekked, and my annoyance at our unexpected hike grew with every step. I sulked the entire walk.

  With a wave of Death’s hand, the dust cleared, revealing a long lake and towering waterfall erected at its north end. Mist curled around the falls, shrouding it in a mysterious fog.

  “Prepare yourselves. Once the games begin, there are no rules. Only the strongest will survive.” Death really needed to work on his pep talks. “Good luck, and remember, fortune favors the brave.”

  Out of nowhere, a gong rang, and the air filled with another roar of the invisible, cheering crowd. Seriously? Weren’t they going to give us better directions?

  Neither team shared my reservations, charging forward across a dock with rafts floating at the end on either side. Competitors jostled me as they sprinted for the rafts, and I barely saved myself from toppling into the lake.

  “Hey, watch it!” I growled as someone stepped on my toes.

  On the opposite side, Grant assisted several members into the blue team’s raft. His arms flexed with every movement, and I was too distracted by the cords of muscles to pay attention to my steps. I tripped over my own feet and unceremoniously tumbled off the dock with a girlish yelp. Frigid water enveloped me in an icy cocoon, and I flailed my arms and legs, my tennis shoes colliding with something squishy.

  Sputtering, my head broke the surface. I gasped for air as I fought through the water, my frozen fingers gripping the edge of the slippery raft while my teammates boarded the rubber structure. They ignored my attempts to join them as they tossed oars to every person in the group. For the briefest of moments, something slimy and cold circled my ankle, and I shrieked, kicking with all my might to escape the water.

  My body lurched over the side of the slick rubber, terrified of the mystery creatures swimming in the dark depths of the lake, and I glared at my teammates. “Thanks for the help.”

  Again, they ignored me as Natalia barked orders. “We need a balanced raft. The heaviest person should sit in the back.” A man with hair and skin red as a brick wall—and built like one too—stood and took the seat behind me. “Make sure to row in sync with everyone else or stay out of the way.”

  Grabbing a pair of oars, I copied the others’ stances. “Shouldn’t we come up with a strategy first?”

  A woman in front of me snorted. “How about this for a strategy? Don’t die.”

  The blue team was already ten yards ahead, rowing in a synchronized rhythm across the water. Grant sat in the back of their raft, guiding them like an expert.

  “Let’s move!” Natalia bellowed.

  So, we did—or, more like the rest of my team did. I couldn’t keep up with their punishing pace and kept my oar in my lap to avoid slowing them down.

  When we were nearly halfway, screams echoed from up ahead. I peeked around my team members to investigate. The blue team’s raft had paused in the middle of the lake, and handfuls of members were falling into the water.

  Wait, no. They weren’t falling in. They were being dragged into the water by their oars.

  “Pull your oars in!” I shouted, but it was too late.

  Cries of alarm rang out as random members from my team were yanked from their seats. They splashed into the water but never resurfaced, claimed by the lake’s monsters.

  “Shit!” I yelped as Clifford the Big Red Giant behind me was hauled abruptly into water. The surface bubbled furiously as he gave one hell of a fight, but he was soon overcome by several long, suckered tentacles. At the upset of weight from our lost members, our raft tipped precariously to the right.

  “Even out!” Natalia commanded. “Everybody spread out and keep your oars inside.”

  “How are we supposed to get across? We’ll be pulled in if we use our paddles!” the elderly woman in her late fifties, cried.

  I hugged my chest, my mind whirring through the possibilities. They wouldn’t give us an undoable task, would they? There had to be a way, but it was hard to think in the chaos. With the mix of wet clothes and biting wind, I was going to freeze into a pops—

  “I’ve got it!” I called as the lightbulb blinked in my sluggish brain. “Everyone needs to take off their shirts.”

  Blank stares met mine before numerous people huffed in annoyance. Natalia scoffed with a jeering laugh. “Now’s not a good time for jokes, kid.”

  “What? No!” I growled at the dismissive attitude, raising my voice to be heard over the hysteria. “We need to make a sail! If we tie our shirts together, the wind will—”

  “Take us across the lake!” Natalia finished, her eyes brightening in excitement.

  Quickly, she took off her shirt and the rest of us followed. Plenty were hesitant about stripping, but given the choice between being sucked into the water by a murderous Kraken or sacrificing propriety, they chose surrendering a little modesty.

  We made quick work of tying the shirts together until we had a decent-sized sail. Attaching the impromptu sail to the ropes lining the rafts, we let the wind do the rest.

  It didn’t take long before the wind pushed us across the lake. The other team caught on to our idea and followed suit. We were just passing them as they lifted their makeshift sail into the air. I wolf-whistled at Grant’s naked torso, unsurprised at the extreme muscle definition of his abs, shoulders, and biceps.

  “Lookin’ good, Boston,” I cat-called, and he flipped me off.

  With the two rafts racing, we arrived at the north end of the lake almost simultaneously. We hauled ass out of the rafts, carefully avoiding the lake, and charged for the waterfall.

  Ropes and netting lined the massive structure. It was junior high rope-climbing all over again, except this time there would be a torrential downpour beating my head from above. I was doomed.

  No one waited to verify the number of members who actually made it out of the raft. It was a free-for-all at this point, yet I still hesitated when a shrill shriek sounded behind me. Knobbly Knees had fallen victim to the lake of death, a tentacle coiled around her ankle and waist dragging her further into the water as she cried for help. But there was nothing anyone could do for her now. Her team abandoned her, even Grant who spared her a pitied glance before focusing on the net wall.

  “Leave her!” Natalia shoved me into the pool at the base of the waterfall as the young girl was manhandled beneath the surface, her screams cutting off with a wet gurgle. “There’s no room for mercy here, shrimp.”

  I stood nailed to the ground as a giant squid rose from lake, slimy arms sinking into sand as they crept closer. Once again, contestants from both teams panicked, knocking others away to escape the deathly horde of tentacles. Finding myself behind Grant, I followed his lead as he ascended the ropes.

  Water poured over us with a vengeance, and it was impossible to see the best handholds. Going by feel and copying Grant, I climbed. Occasionally, someone slipped and fell, their bodies disappearing in the mist below where the Kraken waited. Their wails were lost to the roar of the water.

  Nervous babble clawed its way past my lips as I shadowed Grant’s every move. “So, Boston, how’d you die?”

  He paused, gaping incredulously down at me as I travelled higher on the rope. My heart thumped wildly as I peeked over my shoulder, shuddering at the height. I swallowed down the panic bubbli
ng in my throat and pushed through my exhaustion, catching up to a still-immobile Grant. “I was killed by a cat. Not my cat. My sister’s cat. His name was Bill, and he was the devil.”

  “What are you doin’?” he asked in a hard voice.

  I squinted past the ricocheting water droplets. “Um, talking?”

  “Well, don’t.”

  I grumbled under my breath as I climbed until I was beside him on the rope. “Why not?”

  He shook his head and glared at me. “Don’t you see? This isn’t just a game, Lea. If you die, that’s it.” His jaw ticked as he looked away, water rushing over his broad shoulders as his inky hair stuck to his face and neck. “So, stop actin’ like we’re partners. There’s only one winner. No one here is your friend.”

  Reaching higher, Grant’s biceps rippled as he hoisted himself up, but the netting snapped suddenly under his weight. Fear bled into his expression as he slipped, and there was no thought to my reaction. I was already there, gripping his arm for dear life so he could catch himself on the net.

  “Shit!” Grant yelped as he latched on to the rope again, stopping his descent. “Fuck! Let me go.”

  Releasing him, I grinned and puffed my chest out. “Wow! Did you see that? I totally just saved your fat ass.”

  Grant’s fear and confusion quickly morphed into irritation as he glared at me. However, there was a sort of wonderment hiding behind his mask. “My ass is not fat.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him and climbed higher. “Prove it.”

  Shaking his head, he scaled past me with ease. I grumbled to myself as he passed, and he smirked. “Live a bit longer and I just might.”

  My mouth fell open, and I spluttered as water ambushed me. His laughter floated down as he carried on his way. Soon, I was left behind. Only a few random people struggled like I did, and I nodded my head at the middle-aged Asian man as we climbed at the same pace.

  Since I wasn’t used to such extreme labor, my limbs burned from exhaustion. My favorite form of exercise when alive was walking from my bedroom to the kitchen to sneak a snack. Or sex. Sex was a perfectly acceptable exercise regimen. But this? This was torture.

  Slowly but surely, I traversed the rope wall, avoiding the slippery footholds. The water poured over my face, and my numb fingers struggled to keep hold of the net. I thought I hated gym class—I did the bare minimum to pass. But this fuckery was worse.

  The stranger beside me started to slip, his feet losing their footholds. Without thinking, I snatched his arm and yanked with all the pathetic strength I could muster. We struggled to find balance together, and once he was stable, I released him with another silent nod.

  Together, we climbed the rest of the way, pausing periodically to help the other past tricky areas. When we worked together, it wasn’t as difficult.

  Once at the top of the waterfall, I rolled over the crest of the rocks onto my back, panting.

  “Come on, we’re almost done,” the man said, offering me his hand, and I accepted it with a groan.

  Staggering to my feet, I gaped at the course before me. Behind my new friend, who now ignored me as our temporary alliance ended, were three paths. Both teams had stopped at the platform before them, hesitant to continue. I joined my group as Grant peeked at me from the corner of his eye.

  “—will happen,” I heard Natalia say to the others.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  She eyed me with disappointment. “Oh, you’re still alive.”

  I ignored her as I shuffled closer to Grant. He was the only person I knew, and I latched on to him like a barnacle. “What’s with the creepy Frost paths?”

  He audibly ground his teeth as he vacillated between ignoring me or answering me. “The what?”

  “Like in the poem by Robert Frost. There are three paths in it.”

  Grant chuckled with a shake of his head. “Okay, first off, the poem is about roads. And second, there are only two of them.”

  I smacked his arm, hiding the cringe as my fingers stung from the firmness of his biceps. “Hey, don’t correct the person who saved your life. If I say they’re paths, they’re paths.”

  He threw up his hands in surrender. “Whatever, green. Now get back to your team and leave me alone.”

  Cocking my head, I studied the three paths as the groups broke into a heated discussion over which trail was the best to take.

  The farthest left was cloaked by thick fog, and a haunted voice sang from the mist. A melody drifted through the air, tempting, beckoning, and the need to answer welled within me. Fighting the luring siren call, I jerked my eyes away, my hand circling Grant’s wrist as he stepped toward the mist.

  “Don’t!”

  He blinked his glazed eyes, his focus returning even as three stragglers stumbled toward the path. They disappeared into the fog. I doubted we’d see them again.

  The middle path was wide and open, seemingly safe. Yet, the lack of obstacles was disconcerting. It had to be boobytrapped because nothing in this task had been easy. Which left the farthest right path.

  It was narrow and dark, ominous and loaded with danger. Swinging blades, patches of thorny bushes, and precarious stepping stones placed in bubbling tar were only a few of the obstacles we’d face should we choose such a course. It was terrifying, yet I didn’t trust the innocence of the larger trail.

  “Wouldn’t you choose that one?” I asked, pointing to one on the right.

  Grant choked out a laugh. “You’re kiddin’, right? That would be the last one I’d pick.”

  “No, I’m not. The fog is creepy as shit, and with the wide one, you don’t know what you’ll face. But with path three, you can see the danger and plan ahead. It makes more sense to choose that one.”

  Natalia, who had been eavesdropping, regarded the paths again with fresh interest. After a moment, she pointed to the path on the right. “Come on! This way!”

  Mateo guffawed mockingly. “That’s suicide.” He addressed his group, pointing to the broad, clear path. “We have room to maneuver and fight off attacks. This is our best shot. Follow me!”

  Grant hesitated, and I shook my head. “Boston—Grant, no. Come with us. You have a better chance of not dying!”

  With a hesitant glance at his team, he nodded. “Okay, let’s go. But don’t expect me to come to your rescue or nothin’. We’re still not friends.”

  “Ah, sweetie, you sure have a way with words. But enough flirting. We’re falling behind.”

  Grant’s olive cheeks darkened, and I smirked as I brushed past him. Together, we rushed through the path to catch up to my dwindling team members, climbing over steep boulders and maneuvering past swinging objects.

  As we hopped over the stepping stones, Grant lost his equilibrium, his bulky body not as graceful as mine, and I, once again, grasped his arm to stabilize him. He jerked out of my grip with a scowl, almost upsetting both our balances. I refrained from touching him again.

  By the time we reached the end of the path—after struggling through a mire of mud and leeches—Grant had a thin gash over his left temple, and I ached from superficial cuts and bruises. That, and I was positive my tights were leech-infested.

  I crumpled to the tiled platform signifying the finish line, coughing and panting as dirty water dripped from my curls. Grant stormed past me without a second glance to join the eight members left from his original team. Mateo wasn’t among them.

  Surprisingly, my team had fared much better. None of them checked on me as Death and his entourage appeared before us at the concluding gong and roar of the hidden crowd.

  “And here they are: our champions of the first challenge,” Death announced as the groups shuffled closer. There were less than half of us left. “Though each path posed different difficulties, you did well to choose the right path. Be proud! You live to fight another day.”

  Grant’s jaw clenched, and he stared at me with puzzled frustration. Why he was upset with me? I’d just saved his sorry ass. Twice.

  “Th
e rules prohibiting violence are reinstated. You would be wise to adhere to them.” Death’s serious gaze traveled over the group. “Eat, rest, replenish, for the next challenge begins in one week.”

  Death and his followers disappeared in another puff of black smoke. The moment they were gone, Grant turned on me. “What was that all about?”

  My eyebrows rose as I recoiled from his aggression. “What do you mean?”

  He glowered and poked my bare chest with his index finger. “What are you hopin’ to gain from helpin’ me, huh?”

  I shook my head, my curls flinging droplets of water. “Nothing. I don’t want anything from you.”

  Befuddled, he searched my face with keen eyes, trying to figure me out. But there wasn’t anything to figure out. I was an open book, one with curse words and suggestive language for mature readers, but I was honest.

  As his bewilderment morphed to irritation, his eyes hardened, and I cringed away as he poked my sternum hard enough to bruise. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but stay the fuck away from me. You hear?”

  Without another word, he turned his well-muscled back to me and stalked to the other side of the platform, leaving me drenched in muddy water with a high probability of leeches attached to my ballsack.

  Anger burned through me at his ungrateful spite, and I yelled at him across the platform, “Just because I don’t want to die, doesn’t mean I’ll condemn someone else to death. I’m not fucking heartless. Not like you!”

  He ignored my accusations, slumping onto a distant boulder, and I huffed as I crossed my arms over my chest like a child.

  Despite my fury, Grant’s earlier words replayed in my mind. There was only one winner—a single person who would live again.

  Everyone else would belong to Death.

  Chapter 4

  Tit for Tat

  Our pitiful group of survivors was ushered away from the scene of the first task, back up the muddy hill to the waiting hovercraft. We all bore injuries from the dangerous obstacle course, and my exhaustion weighed me down as I dragged my sorry ass into the sleek vehicle hovering a few feet from the ground. There were less compartments in the train now, reflecting our drastically diminished numbers.