The corner of Harper’s mouth hitches up, and Guy offers his hand to Jaxon. “Welcome to our group.”
Jaxon laughs and pumps Guy’s hand. Then he says, “The Triggers. How friggin’ pompous is it to give yourselves a name?” He sighs. “What’s ours?”
“No,” Harper says. “We’re not naming our group.”
“I know. The Bombs.” Jaxon makes a falling motion with his fist, then explodes it against the palm of his other hand.
“Dumb,” Harper says.
Jaxon thinks. “The Machines?”
“Nope,” I tell him.
“The Brimstone Bosses!”
“Guys,” Caroline says softly. “The light is blinking.”
My shoulders tighten, and I dig into my pant pocket, searching for the device. When I find it, I fit it into my ear. My eyes never leave Guy’s face. He puts his own device into place and holds my gaze. After three weeks in the jungle, his hair still springs toward the sky in dark spikes. It’s like it’s determined to hold its style regardless of what happens. As opposed to my own hair, which curls closely against my scalp in chaotic patterns. For a fleeting moment, before the woman speaks, I pray that the orange pack I’m wearing holds Chanel makeup. And a brush. And a mirror.
Clicking.
Static.
“Welcome to the second leg of the Brimstone Bleed. As you’re probably aware, this portion of the race will take place across the desert. Just as before, you will need to find the flags in order to locate base camp. And once again, you will be allocated two weeks for completion.”
The sun beats down on the sand dunes, and I can see the air vibrating. It’s almost like I’m underwater. There are sporadic bushes and sparse trees sprouting from the sand, and I wonder how it’s possible they grow in this heat. How anything can survive it. How I will survive it.
“One hundred and twenty-two people entered the race,” the woman says proudly. “And seventy-eight Contenders remain.”
I’m surprised so many Contenders have dropped off. I didn’t see that many in the leave line at base camp, which means some Contenders are still in the jungle. Or worse, they’re like Levi. Gone.
“That means your odds of winning this leg of the race are that much better. And this round, we have a very special prize.” The woman pauses, and I imagine how strangling her might feel. “The winner will receive a small dose of the Cure. Enough to ensure your loved one lives for a minimum of five years.”
All around me, people gasp. As for myself, I’m too shocked to move. My insides roil with conflicting emotions. One is hope, that I can win Cody a guarantee of five healthy years. Another is anger, that the people working this race can do this to us. Surely, if they wanted to, they could create enough of this cure for everyone. The last emotion is the hardest to face — doubt. Doubt that any of this is real. That there’s really a cure that can save Cody. Or anyone else, for that matter.
Still, I have to try. I have to fight for the chance to help him. Besides, Guy did say the Pharmies existed. And I trust him.
Right?
I notice Jaxon waving down two animals, which I assume are Pandoras. The closest one, a cheetah, sprints over to Jaxon and rubs against his leg. Behind the cat, taking slow, heavy steps, is what looks like a baby elephant. The creature moves toward Olivia and wraps its long gray trunk around her waist. The girl scratches beneath the elephant’s chin and stares forward.
Beyond the Pandoras, my eyes connect with Titus’s. He raises a thick arm and points in my direction. Ice courses through my veins at the sight.
The woman’s voice continues.
“The best of luck to you, Contenders,” she says. “Now run!”
I can almost imagine her arm punching the air. In the same moment as the woman tells us to run, the ground shudders. Seventy-eight Contenders and their Pandoras rush forward. Guy grabs my arm and holds me in place. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but I take his lead and do the same to Harper. One by one, we pull ourselves together to avoid being trampled.
We don’t run. We don’t panic.
We just watch.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The Contenders race in all different directions, and Pandoras fly, crawl, and slither behind them.
There are so many different creatures that the sight is astounding. It wasn’t as startling at base camp, seeing them all lounging along the ground, cleaning themselves, and snoozing in the wet heat. But this, watching them plow through the sand, grunting from the strain, their bodies rigid — it’s spectacular.
After the sound dies down, and the Contenders and animals become a blur in the distance, Guy speaks. “We need a plan.”
“Right-o,” Jaxon says.
Guy looks at him for a long minute before continuing. “Last time, there was a pattern to the flags. I think we can assume as much here, too. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a game of skill.” He pulls his pack off and drops it into the sand with a thud. “We also need to dump these. They’re too bright, and they’ll alert our presence to other Contenders.” Guy crouches on the ground and unzips the pack. As he works to pull the contents out, I wonder how he got this way. How an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old could prepare himself for conditions this extreme.
Guy separates the things in his pack into piles. On one side are what looks like a rolled-up tent, a sleeping bag, and a thick length of rope. On the other are a large switchblade and a canteen, which I imagine is full of water. The chrome side of the circular bottle gleams in the sunlight, and I wonder if the race peeps didn’t answer my prayer for a mirror after all.
“Hey, this canteen could be used as a signal to each other,” Olivia says, turning hers so it flashes. “Wouldn’t that be cool?”
As I stare at my own bottle, my tongue swells. I’ve been conscious for ten minutes in this blasted desert, and already I could drink my body weight in water. Or Lake Michigan. I think I could drink that, too. Or maybe the water from that jungle cave, complete with slimy leeches.
“Are you sure we should leave everything? What if we need it later?” Caroline asks. “Surely, they wouldn’t give it to us if we didn’t need it.”
“No.” Guy wipes his brow. “We leave it.”
“Could we carry the stuff in our arms?” Jaxon glances at his cheetah. “Or could our Pandoras carry it?”
“We’ll be too tired to carry anything,” he answers. “So will they.”
Normally, we follow Guy blindly. But right now the group seems to hesitate. Maybe it’s the heat or the fact that the desert looks so barren. I imagine these people are wondering how they’ll replace the things they need if they leave them behind. In the jungle, there was stuff to use. If you could find the right stuff. But here, it’s a blank sheet of paper.
I understand Guy wants to remain invisible to the other Contenders, but I’m not sure why it’s so important. Is he afraid they’ll follow us to the flags? Maybe he’s concerned others will want to join our group. If so, what’s the harm in that? I’m beginning to wonder if this is a good idea. Until I remember Titus. The way he said he’d be collecting Pandoras. And the way he looked at me right before the desert race began.
I remove my pack, pull out the canteen and knife, and toss the bag away.
Harper’s eyes widen slightly, but she quickly follows suit. As soon as she acts, so does Jaxon. Olivia goes next, followed by Caroline and Dink.
“Okay.” Guy points to the sky with his canteen, and the lion at his side glances upward. “We can use the sun as a compass. It rises in the east and sets in the west. I suggest we head east.”