I leap in the air in celebration before I grab the next card. Fuck, where did all the time go? Twenty seconds left.
The instant I read the card, my body goes cold. I look to the production crew with unease, and Landon snaps at me.
“Come on, babygirl. Now!”
His gaze moves to the ticking clock, and I nod as I swallow roughly. Gesturing to Landon, I make a slow dragging motion of my hand against my neck before dropping my neck to the side.
Landon knows what I’m getting at, I can tell he just doesn’t know how to articulate it.
“Death? Dead? You’re dead. Head? Decapitation?”
I point to him on the last one, a second before the timer goes off.
Angel, Mason, Noah and even Savannah clap politely for me. Meanwhile, Landon, Luna and Shane all stay silent as I wordlessly take my seat. I try not to look up, but I feel a pair of eyes on me, and I make eye contact with the woman who interrogated me after we found Andrew. She gives me an approving nod and a light clap that sends chills skating down my spine.
We only got three.
That means that Angel and Mason have to get two or less or we’re eliminated. I’m not trying to wish ill will on anyone, especially when it may lead to their death, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping they do badly, a little bit. Okay, fuck, a lot.
When the timer starts, Angel flips over the card, frowning before she realizes she’s holding it upside down.
Jesus.
“Um, I don’t know what to do,” Angel says, looking to Julia, who’s just offscreen.
“Do your best,” Julia replies.
Angel shakes her head and runs a frustrated hand through her hair.
“Come on, just do something!” Mason snaps.
“I’m trying to think of something! Give me a second!” she huffs.
Mason looks ready to tear his hair out, and I don’t blame him. Angel takes forty of their ninety seconds before she finally does a little dance on an imaginary pole.
“Pole dancer? Stripper!” Mason says.
She nods and claps before flipping to the next card. Her brows furrow as the clock ticks away the seconds, then shebegins pulling her finger in a trigger motion with her hand out front.
“Gun? Shoot? Trigger? Pull the trigger? Come here? I don’t know what you’re fucking doing! Try something else!” Mason shouts.
“I don’t know what else to do!” she yells back at him.
“Fucking hell,” he says, leaning forward and covering his face with his hands.
“Okay, one more time. Whatever it is, really think about the visual of it.”
Angel frowns as she reads the card and nods.
The time is ticking down from ten seconds, and I almost feel relief that they only have one correct answer, which makes me feel like an asshole.
Angel lifts both of her hands, then makes a drawing-back motion.
Five… four… three…
“Stretching? Pulling? Shooting? Oh shit! A bow and arrow! Archery!” Mason shouts as Angel motions like she’s letting the bow go.
Suddenly, as if it was pulled out of nowhere, an arrow comes flying through the air at lightning speed, ripping through Angel’s chest before landing directly between Mason’s eyes. He goes limp as Angel falls to the ground.
