Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Things blurred from overload, both physical and mental. Down a lit hall we went, through a set of doors.
My fatigue was compounded when they brought me into a warm tiled room and propped me up on a long wooden bench. Was this . . . a sauna? I was still shivering from the freezing water, so this calm heated space was extra disorienting.
A man I vaguely recognized strolled in with a plush white towel in his hands.
“Congratulations,” Josh said. “Your journey through the void is over.”
What?
While he unrolled the towel and gently draped it over my shoulders, I tried to comprehend what he meant. I was still clutching the lighter in my rattled hands but stared at it like it was alien. Like my hand wasn’t my own.
“Have you sustained any injuries the medical staff needs to look at?” Josh asked.
Injuries? I blinked and slowly shook my head.
“Are you sure? Sometimes people don’t realize until after.”
Everything was foggy and disconnected, but I sensed he was waiting on a response from me. I shook my head again.
“Good. There’s a shower stall in the changing room if you want to clean off before you change. You’ll find the bag with your personal effects in there. Take as much time as you need to decompress.”
It felt like my brain was no longer connected to my body.
“Once you’re all set,” he continued, “you’ll be escorted to the after-party. We require our guests stay at least twenty minutes and drink a minimum of one bottle of water before they’re allowed to leave. Other guests who’ve survived to the end will be there you can talk to, but if you’d like to speak one-on-one with a professional, just let someone from staff know and that’ll be arranged.”
His eyes sharpened on my medical ID bracelet.
“You want that removed? Most people leave it on as a badge of pride.”
“No,” I said, because it seemed faster.
He nodded and glanced down at the lighter clasped in my fingers. “The lighter is yours to keep as a souvenir too.” He straightened. “Do you have any questions for me?”
“Is she okay?”
That amused him. “Who, Chelsea? Yeah, she’s fine. Any other questions?
I knew I should ask him something, that I was blowing a big opportunity, but I was simply numb and unable. “No.”
Josh gave an understanding smile. “I have to say, you surprised me. I didn’t think you’d make it halfway through. You should be proud. Only a quarter of the people who go in go all the way to the end.”
He turned to leave but only made it a single step before he abruptly pulled to a stop. Something had just occurred to him. He reached into his back pocket, retrieved a small black book, and held it out to me.
I stared at the notebook monogramed with my initials.
A cruel smile twisted on Josh’s lips. “For your notes.”
Chapter 10
The small pub was one of the few freestanding buildings inside the castle walls. It was quaint and exactly what one would expect: green leather chairs were perched over tartan carpet, and wood paneling decorated the walls. I sat alone at the bar, a nearly empty bottle of water in front of me, plus a tumbler of Scotch I hadn’t touched yet.
I made another attempt to jot my thoughts down in my notebook, but my head was a jumbled mess. The hot shower had helped somewhat to glue my fractured mind back together, but the cracks were still there, making it hard to stay on one thought for longer than a few seconds.
Well, except for one.
I kept seeing the word liar written across Chelsea’s forehead.
A few barstools away, two men laughed and compared their experiences through Void. Both sounded American and wore the white medical ID band like I did.
“Did you ever think about tapping out?” the younger guy asked the other.
“No, but the contortionist in the chapel nearly made me shit myself.”
His voice was heavy with appreciation. “That part was sick. For me it was the doctor scene. I hate needles.” He took a sip of his drink, and a sly smile widened on his face. “But it was worth it to get to see the girl in the elevator again. God, she was so fucking hot.”
I stared at the label on my water bottle, wanting to peel it away from the plastic with my mind. Anything to focus on instead of their conversation. But they were too loud to ignore.
“Yeah, she’s come a long way since Satterfield.”
A puzzle piece fell into place, making my gaze fly to the men. Beneath the bar, I balled my hand into a fist of self-directed frustration.
I’d understood right away, but the younger guy made a face. He didn’t get it. “What?”
“Satterfield—they sell car insurance or something. Anyway, Chelsea—the girl with the pink hair? She was in one of their commercials. I think it’s where her car’s on fire and all she’s worried about is the ice cream melting in the trunk.”