Page 84 of Alice Chen's Reality Check

I rush over and kneel in the mud. Whoever this person is, they’re not breathing. The dark puddle is blood, and a lot of it.

“Oh, god,” I say. I want to be anywhere but here. But I force myself to breathe through it as my next steps fall into place. I’m trained in first aid and CPR—I had to be for my teacher’s license—but before anything else, I have to call for help.

I reach for my phone and realize it’s not there.

Damn it.

“Daniel,” I say, “I’m going to try to do what I can. I need you to—”

“I’ll get someone,” Daniel says, immediately understanding. He’s off and running, but I don’t watch him go. I have to try to save this person.

I’m shaking as I turn them over.

My hands fly to my mouth.

It’s Anton.

WAIVER AND LIABILITY RELEASE

I, the undersigned, release from any and all liability GET REAL Productions, including but not limited to the entities of PETER DIXON, DAWN TAYLOR, and all unnamed members of the production crew and cast.

I understand that my participation in DAWN TAY’S INFERNO is conditional on my acceptance of reasonable and unreasonable risks either inside the challenges or outside of the competition. I release GET REAL from any liability for physical, mental, emotional, or intellectual damage, including but not limited to dismemberment, brain damage, stroke, heart attack, death, or permanent impairment. I forever relinquish the right to seek legal action against GET REAL Productions.

I acknowledge that GET REAL is not responsible for my physical care during the competition, including if medical attention, such as CPR, the use of emergency medical equipment, or emergency transportation, is needed and not provided in a timely manner.

Chapter Eighteen

Hell Is Finding a Dead Body

Looking at Anton’s body, I know CPR’s not going to save him, but I try anyway. As I pound on his chest, my mind starts categorizing every small detail: Anton’s wide-open eyes, the shocked look on his face. How perfectly styled his blond hair is, still fresh with gel. The bloody bruise around his eye. The mud caked on his shoes and along the hem of his pants. The way one of his hands is scraped and bloody. How still he is, even when I try to breathe air into his lungs. The tacky sensation of blood on my knees where I’m kneeling in it.

My eyes fill with tears for this person I barely know. The last time I saw him alive, he was pushing one of the walls of the labyrinth with Freya. Well, more like he was letting Freya do most of the work while he pretended to push. Not to speak ill of the dead, but from the little I saw of him, it didn’t seem like he got along with either the cast or the crew. But he was a living, breathing person less than half an hour ago. That counted for something.

After several minutes, I sit back and just look at him. How did this happen?

Above us, the walls of the labyrinth frame a clear sky divided up by a network of scaffolding. During the competition, I’d done my best to forget that an entire film crew was up there, capturing our every move and every stumble—but I know Leah had been up there at one point, and most likely the other producers and production assistants had beenfollowing their own couples.

Anton, I realize, must’ve been up on the scaffolding too. It was the quickest way for him to move from one place to another in time to help move the walls or report to a producer. One of the beams making up the walkway is splintered, jagged bits of wood breaking up the neat symmetry of the paths overhead.

Anton had to have fallen from there.

“Alice!”

Almost as soon as I hear my name, Daniel is pulling me to my feet and embracing me, and I hug him back as tight as I can. The thrum of his heartbeat grounds me, and when he lets go, he takes my hand. I twine our fingers together, desperate for the contact.

Behind him, several members of the cast and crew come running in, stopping only when they see the body. For a moment, no one seems to know what to do, but then one of the medics breaks through the crowd and starts checking Anton’s pulse. I bury my face in Daniel’s shoulder and breathe deep as his hand rubs circles into my back.

“I’m here, Alice,” Daniel murmurs.

When I finally look up, I accidentally make eye contact with Dawn Taylor, who’s standing at the back of the crowd. Her heels put her above almost everyone else, and she’s watching the scene with a detached expression. She doesn’t seem to notice me. Her gaze wanders, and when it finally lands on the body, her lips curl in disgust.

Above the din, Peter is getting everyone’s attention.

“That’s a wrap for today,” Peter Dixon says, his voice hoarse with emotion. He’s blinking back tears, but he soldiers on. “Everyone back to your rooms. Let’s let our medical staff do their jobs, okay?”

Anton is carried out on a stretcher.

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