Page 80 of Stormbreaker

No, no, no. I do not die like this.

I throw my free hand up, snatching the edge with both hands again—thank you, daily strength training at the crack of dawn.

When I look down, my heart stops. I think I did it. Whether it was the impact or just my dangling weight, the platform’s trajectory has shifted enough that I can jump down without getting skewered.

With a deep breath, I let go.

My feet hit the ground, and I roll to my side, rocks digging into my ribs. But I survived.

Throughout it all, the woman never takes her eyes off me, but it’s clear that she’s frozen. Petrified with terror.

“You have to jump, too!” I scream. “When it’s at the top! Into the bushes! You have to jump!”

It’s a long drop, but I just survived it. Of course, she can’t use her hands or feet to protect herself, but this is her best chance. I could try to break her fall, but that might just kill us both.

“Jump!” I scream, my voice cracking. Finally, the woman moves. Almost as if in slow motion, she hurls herself off, just before the platform reaches its peak again.

I whisper softly to myself, hoping, hoping she survives.

She hits the bushes, then the ground with a dull thud and rolls.

I have only a fraction of a second to feel relief before I’m up and running.

The woman is alive. A little worse for wear but alive. I sigh as I search for some way to open her cuffs, but they’re bound with a heavy lock.

“We have to get up,” I croak. “We have to make it to the gate.”

I don’t even know if that’s true.

I’ve already broken the game’s rules.

I don’t know if they’ll let any of this slide, but something tells me we still have to cross the finish line to have a chance of coming out of this unscathed.

A quick glance at my watch tells me we have less than a minute. “Hold on,” I say, not giving her a chance to protest. Thankfully, she’s small and slight. I bend down and sling her over my shoulders. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, and it feels like she weighs almost nothing.

I stagger back to the path and struggle toward the fountain. I pick up my pace, running as fast as I can with the woman bouncing on my shoulders.

The fountain appears before us like a lifeline.

I check my watch.

Ten seconds.

The time ticks down as the masked faces grow closer.

The woman is crying, shouting. She’s getting heavier, and I list to the side, nearly losing my balance. Somehow, I save us both from falling, then I’m running again.

Just a few seconds left.

My watch buzzes as I trip past the finish line, roughly setting the woman down as her weight crashes into me, and we both stumble.

I stagger for several steps, tripping over my feet before landing face down on the pavement with a smack.

30

No one helps me up.

It takes a few seconds before I push onto my knees and sit back while Devon and Stevie, now maskless, stare down at me, clearly confused about what to do. Behind them stand the others in a circle.