Out of the Ashes (The Game 5)

“Do you ever feel numb before an event?” I asked. “Like zero excitement?”

He snorted. “I’m feelin’ it right now. I think it’s all the planning. It’s frustrating as fuck—but I reckon we’ll get over it once we’ve got a gaggle of brats screaming at us.”

Yeah, that usually did it.

I exhaled some smoke and surveyed the area. Okay, the sand crawl was ready, the area was lit up in orange from the fires, and the milky water glowed red. I spotted River and Reese coming down the hill, and they were one of the integral parts of my station. Because to get brats to scream, you had to piss them off.

A makeshift table consisting of coolers and hard-case luggage stood to the side of the crawl, where we had our fun implements lined up to use. Rubber floggers, whips, paddles, belts, canes—you name it. Stereo, speakers, and laptop too, for my station’s livestream to the house.

Greer’s and River’s diving gear was in one of the cases, and the former walked over there to check the oxygen tanks. The smaller 500ml versions that didn’t require any attachments or heavy equipment. They would just close their mouths around the mouthpiece, put on their goggles, and swim out.

I was tempted to ask Greer to check the water conditions again, but I refrained. Those small cylinders came with more warnings than full-size scuba gear, and had it not been for Greer’s background, I wouldn’t have been comfortable with this element of the event. Alas, two years as a combat diver near the end of his military career should make him qualified.

“Look alive, boys!” Reese was definitely not feeling numb. “We have about three minutes till the first group arrives.”

He was right; it was time to look alive. And not like I’d spent the morning out here working up a sweat, then catching my boyfriend with our new toy, then being on pins and needles waiting for the event. After putting out my smoke, I rolled my shoulders and did my best to get rid of the tension and tiredness.

“I’m just sayin’,” Greer said. “I could be persuaded to trade this night for a cuddle in front of the fire.”

“A bottle of wine,” I added. “Some good cheese and crackers. Foot rub and a movie.”

“That’s pure pleasure,” he told me.

“Y’all make me sick.” Reese shook his head.

I grinned.

“Easy for you to say,” River muttered, removing his tee. “You’re not getting into the water. Sign me up for that foot rub, and I’ll trade it for a ball scratch. Pizza and beer—”

“That’s enough! What are we, old ladies?” Reese stared incredulously at his twin brother, who merely smirked and continued down to the water’s edge.

Poor Reese. He was essentially an older version of that new kid, Noa. Born with too much energy, fearless as fuck, always in the mood to raise hell.

I checked my watch. “Sixty-four seconds, gentlemen.”

“All right.” Greer made a face and warmed up a little, swinging his arms and loosening the tension in his legs.

River attached two cylinders with oxygen to his utility belt and spat into his goggles to prevent them from fogging up underwater.

“Greer, don’t forget the squid dildo for Tate,” I said.

He smiled and patted one of the side pockets of his pants. “It’ll be the highlight of my night, I promise.”

It’d been a fantastic idea by Macklin. He and Tate shared the same predilection for tentacle porn and rapeplay, so one had to seize the opportunity when it presented itself. Discovering that he wasn’t alone in the water by something pulling down his pants and forcing a soft silicone tentacle up his ass should do the trick.

“We need to invest in an underwater camera,” Reese decided.

No time to respond—a shot rang out and echoed across the quarry, signaling that the first group was off.

As Greer and River waded out into the water, I grabbed a small wooden paddle and a rubber whip from the table, then jogged up to the beginning of the beach. I stuck the whip into my belt.

Look alive, look alive.

Reese picked a vampire glove and a thin bamboo cane. “Oh, fuck you, Kingsley. Give me angry music. You got me thinking about foot rubs and open fires.”

I coughed a laugh and jogged back to the table, where I picked the playlist I’d compiled for tonight. I was supposed to push play anyway, and now it hit me that no music had drowned out our wine and cuddle conversation earlier. Those watching the stream from the house had gotten a laugh.

With Disturbed’s “Down with the Sickness” blaring out, I returned to my spot once more.

From down here, I only saw a faint glow from the bonfires. But it didn’t take many seconds before we heard voices. Then we spotted shadows.

The first group would be a good warm-up. Kit, Noa, Darnell, and Corey were seconds away, running down the steep path, and they were flanked by two spotters. I was fairly certain it was Lucian and Penelope behind the masks.