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Twenty-Eight
BROOKE
“Hurry up! They’re gaining!”
I could hear Hayden but I still couldn’t see him, so I could only follow the sound of his voice. Head down, sliding along my belly, I dropped my chin back into the mud and shoved my body another six or eight inches under the massive log wall.
“Brooke, C’mon!”
It hadn’t been an easy decision to start with: tunnel underthe wall or attempt to scale it, as Hayden had. As claustrophobic as I felt right now I was definitely doubting my decision. But the knotted ropes dangling from the top seemed to stretch on forever, and I was never a big fan of heights, so…
“I can see your hand!”
I pushed again, this time with my toes, and gained another hard-fought inch through the Louisiana mud. It was darker and thicker than anything I’d ever seen. Right now it was in my mouth, up my nose, and caked in both ears, too. Not to mention all the mud that was down my back, up my front, down my pants…
“HERE!”
A set of fingers scraped mine, so I extended my arm until it actually hurt. A second later Hayden’s palm closed over my wrist, and I was being dragged forward by two strong arms.
“No!” I spat, choking on a fresh batch of mud. “Wait—”
He pulled anyway, I for a moment I saw stars. My arm felt like it was coming out of my socket. The pain was almost unbearable.
“Hayden!”
The mud in my mouth muffled my voice, but it was too late by then anyway. Hayden had pulled me to my feet. We were on the other side of the wall, where an even wetter path zig-zagged back into the swamp before climbing a steep-looking hill.
“You okay?”
I wanted to shake my head and tell him no, if only to gain a precious few seconds to catch my breath. But I knew we were already behind. I knew if I did, we might come in last.
“I’m good,” I coughed, spitting out another gob of the thick brown clay. I could taste the swamp, and the swamp tasted awful. I could breathe again, though. And best of all I was free.
“Let’s go!”
I broke free of Hayden’s wrist and pumped my arms, racing my way down the path and up the hill. This part should’ve been my forte. In high school I’d been all-state, in both winter and spring track events.
But right now…
Right now my lungsburned. Not just with exhaustion either, but with the fire of being compressed while shoving myself beneath the wall. It was killing my endurance, and I needed a moment to get my air back. But I couldn’t stop.Wecouldn’t stop.
“Brooke…”
Hayden’s own chest heaved with exertion, but there was pleading in his eyes now too. He was at the top of the hill. Without him even saying it, I knew he could see the finish line.
“Alright!”
I put my head down again, and this time I pumped my arms like never before. My thighs felt like they were on fire. My quadriceps were screaming, and both my hamstrings threatened to snap.
Just GO.
It felt like we’d been racing for years at this point, instead of just over a week. We’d conquered the scavenger hunt of Las Vegas; a twenty-four hour marathon of sprinting up and down the strip and stopping in just about every casino to collect clues and markers. We’d finished up at the Pinball Hall of Fame, where we’d had to locate the creepy Zoltan machine who spit out Noah’s final location atop the Luxor. Exhausted and spent, I’d never been more happy to ring the golden bell.
Whatever you do… don’t stop running!
From there we’d hopped a flight to Texas, helicopters to New Mexico, and a train to New Orleans. The Mardi Gras challenge was as fun as it was frustrating, but picking out the different-colored masks among the throngs of thousands had been something Reese turned out to be unexpectedly good at. We finished in third place, and started the next leg well ahead of most teams.
Only now, after this debacle, we’d once more fallen to the back of the pack.
