Page 32 of Maximum Dare
He turned to address the group. “Welcome to my Ted talk! I’m assuming everyone created a Last Will and Testament?”
Ted was a right comedian.
He laughed raucously. “Welcome to the Dare Club! Designed for people who want to challenge themselves and push past their personal boundaries. Previous members have gained the courage to apply for that promotion, or ask for that pay rise—and they’ve gotten it. There are so many benefits to joining us! We help you stretch yourself beyond what you believe you’re capable of achieving. Over the next three weeks, you’ll push yourselves to the limit. This is going to be the most fun you’ve ever experienced. Can I hear a hurrah?!”
“Hurrah,” I said weakly and then shot up my arm. “I have a question.”
“Sure, Daisy.”
“For tonight only, can I watch? If that’s all right? See if I like it?”
He looked amused. “Good one.No.”
We were each handed a badge. I scribbled my name on mine and stuck it to my chest. I was ignored by Ted as he continued to spout passionately about what the evening would entail. Us facing our fear of the unknown, apparently.
The first dare was imminent.
I tugged on Ted’s shirt. “Excuse me. Have you got a brochure about the dare? So we can prepare.”
I meant bail.
He gave me a strained smile. “We’ll meet up at a designated location, emailed to you a few hours before, and only then inform you of your dare for that day. It prevents members from backing out.”
My mouth went dry. “That doesn’t seem very…safe.”
He turned back to the crowd. “Are we ready for our first dare?”
There was cheering, accompanied by my inner moaning.
“I’m going withno,” I mumbled.
That earned me a look of disapproval from the group.
“Of course, you’re not ready, Daisy,” said Ted. “That’s the point!”
“It’s just that…”
“What do you need?”
“A few more details, perhaps. Like, has anyone died doing whatever it is we are about to be doing? That kind of thing.”
Ted’s long hard stare of disdain came with a side of impatience. Instead of answering, he addressed the crowd once more. “Follow me!”
He led us down a long hallway with all the charisma of a museum tour guide—not like someone who was leading us into danger. We trailed along behind him like lost sheep and followed him through a door.
No bloody way.
Along a glass wall was what looked like a glass chuteoutsidethe building. Considering we were hundreds of feet up, it was terrifyingly spectacular. No way was I going down that slide. Anyone stupid enough to try it out would see the sheer drop below them to the pavement as they skidded along. If that thing cracked, you’d fall through to a very squishable end. No one would recognize the parts of you that were left.
And I was wearing my new glasses. The most expensive ones I’d ever owned.
We handed over our handbags to Ted’s assistant, who brightly told us she’d return them when we joined her at the other end. I kept my phone and tucked it into my shirt pocket.
I watched in horror as members of my group got in a queue, ready to climb into the glass tube that jutted away from the building. The first volunteer, a young woman with the name Debbie written on her badge, made her way through the small space. She sat down on a blue mat that had been provided for this debacle, seemingly enjoying the anticipation.
She shot down and out of view at a million miles an hour.
Suddenly I couldn’t get my legs to move.
