by Robin Roseau
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good,” she said. “You’re going to kiss my feet and then Evie’s. Once you do, your reality will return to normal. You have time to change for the next event, but if you instead ask us to give you back to Ida, we will.”
“No!” I said. “Please, no.”
She smiled. “I won’t ask if you want to continue to belong to us.”
“I do,” I whispered.
“I know. We’d love to keep you. If you ever want to play, we can play. I’m Joy, and she’s Evie. We programmed our phone numbers into your head, but if you leave here belonging to someone else, you won’t remember. Kiss my feet now, Selena.”
It was an order, and I couldn’t help it. I bent over and kissed her feet. And then Evie was there, and so I kissed hers as well.
They spoke to me; I didn’t really hear. But then they were gone. I knelt there for a minute longer, trying not to cry from the loss.
* * * *
I cleaned up a little in the bathroom before hurriedly changing into athletic wear. And then the headset said, “Would you like to see the scores?” I’d entirely forgotten it was there, and it startled me. How could I have forgotten it?
Altered reality. Duh.
“Yes,” I answered.
A list appeared in my vision. There were individual scores, ranked from best to worst. “Two points for a winning team,” the voice said. “One point for completing at least two and a half objectives per team member. No points below that.”
There were two teams who had won, including my team. My name wasn’t listed near the top. Of the other two teams, it appeared one had nearly won, and they had one point. The last team had zero points.
And then there were five of us at the bottom with negative two points, including me.
I stared at that then sighed. I didn’t think it was fair I’d helped my team win, but I’d actually lost points. I also realized now that belonging to Ida had sucked, although she could have been a lot worse.
Why had Joy and Evie rewarded me? It had sure felt like a reward. Had that been Joy and Evie breaking the rules when no one was watching? Or were they playing some other game with me? I didn’t know.
But thinking about them felt good. Thinking about kissing and touching felt good.
“Seven minutes until the next event,” said the voice.
I hurried.
* * * *
Our evening event was outside. It was nearly dusk when I exited the main building, but I followed the signs to an athletic field, joining the rest of my company.
But I stood alone. It didn’t feel like team building. I didn’t know what it felt like.
“All right,” Tara said. “I hope you enjoyed the puzzle. This is, of course, exercise, to work off dinner.” Had I had dinner? I didn’t remember. I wasn’t starving, though. I wondered if they’d fed me. I wasn’t stuffed, but I wasn’t starving. I didn’t know.
“Don’t worry about getting dirty,” she added. “There are laundry bags in our rooms and a laundry chute near the door. You may stuff anything necessary into the laundry bag and drop it down the chute. It will be returned by morning. I have no idea what the event is.”
“It’s a race,” Evie said. “There are four courses. Okay, that’s not true. There are twelve, but we’re going to divide into four teams, new teams. There will be a series of obstacles, and you need to get through each of them. Some of the obstacles are traps, and if you’re caught, you’re probably stuck. You get points based on when you cross the finish line.”
“Your visor will tell you what team you’re on. Blue team to the left.” She directed us. I was on the green team, and I joined my teammates. I was happy to avoid Ida.
“Let’s begin.”
The world changed. I looked around, and my team was standing under the stars with a wide hedge towering over us. “That way,” Natasha said, the director of operations. She gestured, and we all began jogging.
Fifteen minutes later, Natasha bent over panting. She wasn’t the only one. Oleta from Support looked done in, and Jaime from Marketing was way too old for these kinds of games. “There’s no way out,” Natasha said.
“There has to be a way,” Gail said. Gail worked on our own web site, along with Gena from my last team. “Human pyramid.”
“What?” Natasha said.
“We can make a human pyramid. If we get someone high enough, she should be able to see the way out.”
“My human pyramid days are behind me,” Natasha replied.
“We don’t need everyone. Who else was a cheerleader?” She looked around. “Are you kidding me?” Gail organized us. She taught us how to stand, how to hold one woman above us, and in the end, she was the one at the top of a very wobbly pyramid. She looked around then swore. “Fuck. There’s no way out.” She gestured. “From what I can tell, the edge of the maze is just on the other side of that hedge. But I don’t see any blank spaces that lead the way out.”
“Guide me,” Natasha said. “Help me follow the perimeter.”
“How will I track you?”
“I’ll shake the bushes.”
“Fine. That way.” She pointed.
We wobbled, and I was long ready to drop her before we were done, but through yelling, she directed Natasha all the way around the edge. Then Natasha began laughing. “I found it. We have to crawl. Everyone come to me.”
“Wait!” Gail said. “Don’t drop me. Um. Left, left, right, left, um… Okay, got it. Coming down.”
The pyramid collapsed, with all of us landing on the ground except for Gail, who simply bounced on her landing. “Nailed it!” she said, lifting her hands into the air like a gymnast. “Let’s go.”
We caught up with Natasha. She gestured, and there was a tunnel through the hedge. I wondered how many times we’d gone past it, but, one-by-one, we crawled through the tunnel.
* * * *
After that, we worked our way through four obstacles easily. Some would be easy alone, but the third was a mini-maze, lines on the ground. Natasha was first into it, and she got two steps and froze. “Fuck. I can’t see.”
“I’ll guide you,” Oleta said. She stepped up behind Natasha and said, “Or not. I can’t see, either.” She reached out with her hands, setting them on Natasha’s back.
“Natasha,” Gail said. “Take one medium step forward. Oleta, follow her. Okay. Good. Left turn. A little more. No, not you, Oleta. Just Natasha. Small step, Natasha, so Oleta can step up behind you.” Working like that, Gail talked Natasha and Oleta through the maze. “Next.”
“This is too slow,” Jaime said. “Form a train.”
“Bad idea,” Gail said. But Jaime stepped onto the maze. Prudence then Nina stepped into place behind her, with Harmony taking the rear. I eyed it and decided to wait.
Gail worked them like she had for Natasha and Oleta, and it looked good until halfway through, when Nina cut a corner. Harmony cut the corner even worse, and she stepped outside the path.
She immediately began screaming, and then two huge monsters appeared from nowhere, grabbed her, and began dragging her away as the rest of us stood, frozen.
I tried to run forward to help her, but I couldn’t move. We heard her screaming for another minute before going quiet.
“Shit,” Gail said finally.
“Get the rest through, Gail,” Natasha said. We didn’t do more than two at a time after that, and no one else got caught, but I stumbled once and was sure I was about to step out. But no monsters came to take me away, and then I could see. I hugged Gail tightly. “Thank you for catching me.”
“You would have done it for me,” she said. “Let’s go.”
The next obstacle seemed like nothing. There was a wooden-plank path. Prudence stepped onto it first, and then she froze. “I can’t move.”
“What?” Natasha asked.
“I can’t move,” she repeated.
Natasha stepped forward, grabbed Prudence by the shoulders, and pulled her backwards. The woman
fell and would have fallen into the dirt beside the path, but Natasha caught her, barely, and pulled her backwards before dropping her to the ground. “Sorry.”
“I can’t move,” Prudence said again. “Maybe it’s a trap. You might have to leave me.”
“We’re not leaving anyone,” I declared. “Natasha, be ready to grab me. Gail. Oleta. Help me.” It took all of us, but we got Prudence onto my back, piggy-back style. She was dead weight, but I locked her ankles in front of me and then held them with one arm. Gail helped me to do the same with her arms. Bending over, I stepped onto the path.
I took a step. Another step. And then I strode forward, crossing the little bridge, and set Prudence down. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she could start moving again. She hugged me. “Thank you.”
“I can’t carry someone like that,” Jaime said.
“I’ll carry you,” Gail offered. She turned her back. “Hop on.”
Gail carried Jaime across. Natasha laughed and offered tiny Nina a ride. And then we all turned and saw Oleta, standing alone at the start.
“I’ll get her,” I said. I took one step towards the bridge. “Shit. I can’t move.”
“I can,” Prudence said. She strode back readily, and turned her back for Oleta. Soon, all seven of us were across the bridge.
I still couldn’t move. Natasha and Gail each took one step and then froze as well. “Someone carry me back and forth,” Gail asked.
It was harder getting us into place when we couldn’t move, but when my feet touched the ground back on the finished side of the obstacle, I could move again. “Good job,” Natasha said.
* * * *
We eyed the next obstacle. They were simple monkey bars. “I can’t do that,” Jaime said.
“I don’t think I can, either,” Natasha admitted.
“I can help you,” Gail said. She stepped over to the monkey bars, basically a metal ladder set horizontally, supported by metal poles, eight feet from the ground. There was a step up at our end and a step down at the other end.
In between, a mud bath.
Gail jumped up to the first bar, then she swung a few times before swinging around and ending up on top of the entire thing. She grinned at us. “Someone athletic first. Selena.”
“I’m no athlete.”
“Get over here,” Gail ordered.
I walked into place then looked up. “I can just do this. I haven’t climbed monkey bars in two decades, but it’s not that far.”
“Which is why you and I are going to make sure this works. Grab on, then I’m going to figure out how to help you.”
It took her a minute, but we worked something out. After that, while I didn’t need it, she helped me across, holding at least one hand firmly to the bars at all times, making it just a little bit easier to hold on. Finally, I dropped off the other side and turned around.
Nina and Prudence didn’t need help. Oleta looked at it and said, “I can do this.”
She got halfway across, slipped, and fell into the mud. As the rest of us watched, she sank out of sight. Gail began screaming, but she said, “I can’t move. I can’t move.”
“None of us can move,” Natasha said. “Fuck.”
“Natasha said ‘fuck’,” Prudence said. “They’re playing games with us. She probably landed in a bucket of tapioca, and they hauled her away. It’s not like they’d let any of us die. Tara might want to trim the budget, but there are less drastic ways.”
“I rather doubt it was tapioca,” Natasha said.
“Still,” Prudence said. “Daylight is burning.”
It was work for Gail, but she got Natasha across. It was a close thing with Jaime, but then there were six of us standing on firm ground.
* * * *
We reached the final obstacle, a wall. It was ten feet tall, and on either side was a dragon, watching us.
Yes, a freaking dragon, two in total. And in the moment, I was convinced it was real. The one on the left lifted her head and said, “Ah, humans. Finally. There’s a time limit, then we get to eat you. I’d hurry.”
“Don’t tell them that,” said the one on the right. “I haven’t had a human in two weeks.” Her stomach gurgled. “I’m peckish. Take your time, humans. Better yet: run.”
“Don’t listen to her,” said the first. She stretched a wing. “She loves flying down scared prey.”
“Fuck,” Natasha said.
“Human ladder,” Gail said. She got us organized, with Prudence and me on the bottom, then Nina. Gail showed Jaime and Natasha how to climb up, then she climbed up and sat on the top of the wall. She helped Jaime and Natasha to join her then dropped down. “Lower yourself down, and I’ll help,” she called.
She got them down. Nina moved so I was supporting her alone, and Prudence climbed up. And then, by stretching, I was able to push Nina high enough she could grab the top of the wall. She clambered up and over, leaving me on the wrong side.
“Oh, look,” said the right dragon. “A midnight snack.”
“Shut up, you,” I said. I eyed the wall. I jumped at it three times, the last two taking a running jump and slamming into the wall. “Ow.”
Then Gail appeared at the top. “Hey there,” she said.
“You can’t jump high enough to reach, can you? I seem to be short.”
“From down there? No way,” she replied.
“I’m dragon food.”
“Give me a second.” Then she shifted until she was bent double over the wall, reaching down for me. “Jump and grab my arms. I’ll pull you up.”
“There’s no way you’re pulling me up.”
“Try it.”
“I’m going to pull you right off.”
“You’re not that heavy,” she said. “Come on.”
I eyed it, jumped, and just brushed her fingers. It took three tries before I got both hands around one wrist. And then she began screeching. I let go before I could pull her off. I landed on my ass. She disappeared, but after a moment, she appeared again. “Are you okay?” She settled down, straddling the wall.
“Yeah,” I said. I looked at one of the dragons. “Are you really going to eat me?”
One lifted her head from the ground and stretched towards me. I should have been terrified. It sniffed at me and then said, “Yes.”
I felt the breeze of its breath, and I got a real, real good look at dragon teeth. “Gail,” I whispered.
“Try grabbing my leg,” she said. She braced, just one leg hanging over.
“I’m going to hurt you.”
“I’m not leaving you to be dragon food.”
“You could join her,” said the left dragon. “Two snacks are better than one.”
“Try it, Selena.”
I stood up. I eyed her leg. I reached for it. It was just out of reach, but I’d get it if I jumped. “It’s going to hurt you. Are you sure?”
“I’m as braced as I can be,” she said. She was gripping the wall. “Stay as close as you can to the wall. Try not to pull my jeans off of me.”
“I don’t think I can do this, Gail.”
“You just have to get high enough to grab the top of the wall. I can pull you over from there.”
“We’ll give you three more tries,” said the right dragon. “Then if you’re both here, we’re eating both of you.”
“No more dilly-dallying,” said the left dragon. “I’m a little hungry, too.”
“Fuck,” I said. I jumped and grabbed Gail’s ankle. She gave a little screech, but she didn’t fall down on my head.
“Fuck,” she said. “Don’t squirm.” She squirmed instead, then said, “Try climbing up.”
I got partway up her leg then started to slide.
And I almost pulled her jeans off as I hugged her leg, sliding down, but I released and fell back down.
“Go,” I said. “Just go.”
There was a pause, then Gail landed lightly on her feet. “You go up first, then maybe you can help me.”
“No. Just go.”
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“Selena.”
“Gail, there’s no way I can do that. If I try climbing up that wall without you at the top helping me, I’m going to fall off one side or the other. I’ll either land on you or slide down the other side and land on my head.”
“Probably,” said the right dragon. “That’s okay. You’ll still be fresh.”
“Fuck you,” I said. “You could help us.”
“And yet, we’d rather eat you,” said the left dragon.
“Gail, just go.”
“No.”
“Or they can eat us both,” I said.
“I’m on board with that plan,” said the left dragon.
Gail plopped down, leaning against the wall. I stared at her then shifted around until I was leaning against the wall beside her. “You’re being foolish.”
“I’ve never been eaten by a dragon,” she said. “Do you think it hurts?”
“Yes,” the two dragons both said. “A lot. Try not to scream.”
I turned my head. “I wish you would go.” The two dragons stood up. They stepped forward, stretching out towards us.
“Could I ask you something?”
“Sure?”
“Why did they give you to Ida?”
“They said she was the one I’d least enjoy belonging to. God. I thought it was real. I thought it was permanent. I couldn’t even think of disobeying her.”
“Could I tell you something?”
“Make it quick,” said the right dragon.
“It was hot.”
I laughed. “Did you want to be me, or Ida?”
“I’d never want to be Ida. I wanted you to belong to me, or the other way around would have been fine, too.”
“Aww,” said the left dragon. “That’s sweet. Which one do you want?”
“You may pick,” said the right dragon.
“Just wait,” I said. “You told us we had two more tries.”
“You’re dilly-dallying. Of those who have a chance to finish, the two of you are the only ones left.”
“Gail, do me a favor.”
“I’m doing you a favor,” she said, “keeping you company until they eat us.”
“Last is better than dragon food,” I said. “Please go. I’ll help you over the wall.”
Instead of going, she took my hand. “No.”
