Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
I shared a look with Lana and Mel. Project Paradise? Spencer Estate? “Is that why you were forced into the show?”
She met my questioning gaze with a faint smile. “I agreed to participate in exchange for his freedom.”
Brody scoffed, coughing when Mel elbowed him.
“Do you honestly believe he’ll be let go?” Lana asked.
“She knows he won’t,” Ciaran answered calmly.
“No, he won’t,” Carol agreed. “I have my reasons for agreeing, despite that. Just like you all do.” Her eyes were fixed on Ciaran when she said that last part.
She knew something—something I got the feeling I didn’t. If I picked up on it, then Liliana and Mel would’ve too. Sure enough, Lana looked between the woman and Ciaran.
“What am I missing?”
I wanted to give her the best answer I could, share the mess of memories inside my head, but Dion caught my eye and gave the slightest shake of his head while Mel was quick to shut me up with a fleeting look. Both reactions caught me so off guard that I almost let my disposition falter.
Never mind the things I didn’t know. What did they? Was Lana the only one that had no freaking clue what happened back then? That didn’t seem plausible to me but short of outright asking her, which risked a whole plethora of issues and guaranteed divide in our group, I had no way of knowing for sure.
“Wait a damn minute,” the man standing in the back of the tram suddenly cut in. “Is everyone here connected to the sick fucks running this show but me?”
“Only the special ones,” Ky answered, the sound of his voice as unexpected as Dion’s sign to keep my mouth shut.
“This is your idea of special?” Mel asked.
“The others are cannon fodder. Extras to keep things interesting.”
“Oh. I see,” she mused.
“And those creepy fucking masks you boys are wearing?” he pressed.
“Boys? Dion echoed. “Look, sir. No disrespect--.”
“Fuck that, and with the utmost disrespect, fuck you. This isn’t an interrogation. We don’t owe you shit,” Maverick interjected.
“Nice,” the man snorted and then turned his attention to the rest of the newcomers. “Well, since Carol neglected to tell us that she isn’t innocent in any of this, do the rest of you have anything to add?”
“I didn’t neglect to tell you a damn thing. We’re not friends or otherwise. We’re just stuck in this damned city and using one another to stay alive,” she refuted.
The older man sighed and finally opened his eyes. "Roger, just sit down and shut up for two minutes."
The man—Roger--started to reply, trailing off as the tram emerged from the tunnel and entered the woods, night pressing in around us.
A faint sound of whooshing air could be heard. I twisted to look out the window again and deduced that there was some kind of machine wrapping the area in fog. The tram’s lights shut off one by one, leaving only small lantern lights strung throughout the trees, just bright enough to make out shapes. The tram rolled to a sudden stop, and the music cut off.
"What now?" one of the girls asked, her tone wavering.
"Do you know where we are?” Lana asked.
"I think it’s where the toll is due," Brody answered.
"T-toll?" the girl stammered.
"What do you mean you think?" Mel overtalked her.
"I'm usually in Twisty, remember?"
"Just wait," Ciaran stated calmly.
At his suggestion, we all sat in collective silence for a moment before a different telltale click was heard.
A familiar voice began one of her riddles, her voice coming through the speakers with its usual unsettling cheerfulness.
"Surprise! Kinks is back for more.
This time, she’s gonna make it easy, not a chore.
To pass through these woods and the depths beyond, just pay the toll and go on your way.
Time’s a-tickin', so don’t be frugal,
Refuse, and each of you will be the Devil's currency, a fate most brutal.
I'm so excited for the show to go on.
So, pay up quick, and we'll move along."
A faint ticking sound replaced Kennedy's voice, and an overhead display came on with a timer counting down from eight.
"Oh, good god. Every time that crazy chick speaks people start dying," Roger muttered.
Feeling the need to defend the girl I remembered as the twins' sister, I spoke up, "If you think about it, her riddles usually give some indication as to what's coming."
"I haven't found that to be very helpful.”
"You haven't learned anything since the Coffee House then," Charon countered.
"Does that mean we have to choose someone again?" one of the girls began to panic, her voice trembling.
Ciaran kicked his legs out and crossed them at the ankle. "What's wrong? Out of people to sacrifice now that half your group's dead?"
Lana nudged him with her shoe. "Now who needs to put their claws away?"
He laughed. "I don't have claws, puppet. I use blades, have you forgotten already?"
"It's not our fault we aren't like you!" the other girl suddenly yelled. "I saw what you did to that girl."