Page 45 of Flame and Fury

The chase begins, there’s nowhere to hide. We’ll stalk your every step. We’ll come at you from on high, we’ll take aim from below. Run with haste, the hunt is here. We’ve got you in our sights, and the end is near.

I look up from the paper, spotting contemplative and confused looks on the other champions’ faces. Except for Jade and Preston. They look smug and excited. The assholes probably already know what’s going on. Their delight has me very worried.

“Bring honor to the gods!” Thaddeus shouts and it’s as if a starting gun goes off.

Preston and Jade run. There’s a sharp popping sound, and not even a second later, water splashes at my feet.

CHAPTER25

WREN

“Fuck. You pricks couldn’t wait?” Thaddeus shouts, throwing his microphone at his assistant and scrambling off stage with his hands over his head.

There’s another pop and then a deeper boom before the wood of a cotton candy stand blows into splinters behind me.

“We’re being shot at!” I yell, diving behind one of those face in hole boards that has a bearded lady and a two headed ballerina painted on one side.

It’s a poor choice. The top half is shorn off as bullets butcher through the decayed wood. Holy hell. I want to get out of the game, but I still want to be breathing when I leave. Having my head blown off is not going to work for me.

I’ve lost track of the others, but they can’t have gone too far. We’re right in the middle of the park. Booths that once held games like ring toss, knock down the pins, something with a bunch of sad and dirty rubber ducks, surround us. To the right is a yawning clown face that’s an entrance to a funhouse.

I don’t know if the clown was supposed to be welcoming at one point, or if it’s always been terrifying. Rust is seeping down from its eyes, making it look like it’s crying tears of blood, and part of the chin has rotted off. Someone has graffitied every flat surface that isn’t covered in clinging weeds. There are probably a thousand ways to get tetanus in this place.

Moving as little as possible, I peer over the top of my pathetic shield, searching for the gunmen. There has to be more than one. Shots were being fired from different directions. Not only that, but from different guns. I’m no gun aficionado, but I can tell that the popping sound and the big boom are coming from two different weapons.

The rain makes everything harder. Sounds are muted, and visibility is shit. I need to figure out how I can lose this challenge without dying. Also, what the hell is this challenge? If this is following Heracles’s trial with the Stymphalian birds, he shot them down.

That can’t be what is going on here, can it? Are the champions the birds in this scenario? Have they dropped us in a place where people are waiting in the shadows to take us down one by one?

I need to find a better place to sort through my shit. Going into that terrifying funhouse is a horrible idea, but it’s the nearest enclosed location. From there, I’ll be able to survey the area without worrying that someone’s going to shoot me in the back.

Without taking too much time to consider the stupidity of my plan, I push off the ground and run. I make it to one of the game booths before more shots go off. Diving behind the counter, my body barely hits the muddy ground before plates shatter overhead. I curl into a ball, arms over my head as the pieces rain down on me.

Sucking in a deep breath, I pop back to my feet and sprint for the next booth. Debris flies off my head and shoulders as I run. Splatters of brown water reveal where each bullet connects with the ground. Not that I’m upset about it, but these guys are terrible shots. Who the hell did they enlist for this challenge?

I jump over the counter of the next booth, my momentum throwing me into a stack of dirty bowling pins. Scrambling back to my feet, I jump over the other side of the counter. The booth is a square with four sides, and I’m that much closer to the Funhouse. My whip slaps against my thigh, a totally useless weapon in this kind of fight. Unless I can see who’s shooting at me, there’s no way for me to use the whip.

There’s so much gunfire I can't pinpoint the direction it’s coming from. The other champions must have found their own spots to hide in, because the shots being fired are all over the abandoned park. I scan the area, say a little prayer for Ares to protect me, and sprint for the Funhouse.

The clown's mouth is a sinister gaping hole, but I run into it like it’s a sanctuary. As soon as I have cover, I turn and scour the park for shooters. There, standing in one of the Ferris wheel buckets is a man with a rifle. Another is on top of the roof of the house of mirrors. This is insanity.

A bullet grazes my ear, and I jump back. I drag in a ragged breath as blood drips down my neck, the warmth distinguishing it from the rain. Motherfucker.

It’s just a scratch and it should heal quickly, but damn it’s bleeding a lot. My soaked white shirt is turning a shade of pink. I take a few steps backward, farther into the mouth of the funhouse and then immediately freeze. The floor under my feet is soft, the boards rotting. One bad move and I’ll fall through the wood.

I step carefully, balancing, and testing each plank before I transfer my weight. There are enough holes in the roof that it’s not pitch-black inside. Water is dripping in from several spots. On the floor is a dark puddle, and it’s slowly creeping toward me.

At first, I think it’s from the rain, but it’s too dark. That’s blood.

Another pop of a gun firing at close range batters my eardrums. I dive out of the way. The rotted wood crumbles under my feet as I jump. A bullet lodges itself in a pitted metal wall behind me. I jerk my head up, expecting to see one of the gunmen, only to find Jade’s crazy eyes staring back at me. She's standing over the body that created the pool of blood on the floor. It’s one of the gunmen that she’s obviously taken down. And she has a pistol aimed at my head.

“You know, I’m surprised you made it this long. I guess some people are just lucky.” Jade stares at me with her face scrunched up in disgust. Her dirty blonde hair has been pulled back in a high ponytail that’s so tight the edges of her forehead are taut.

“I think your definition of lucky needs some work.”

“You always have to have a smart retort, don’t you? Here’s the thing, scum. Nobody cares. They don’t give a shit what a poor piece of trash like you thinks. You might believe that this game will give you the ability to rise above your station, but you’re wrong. You’re not good enough to mix with the gods. You and all those other lowlifes think they can rise up and demand money and respect.” Jade shakes her head. “You all need to be put down. You belong in the gutter where you were born. I think your death will be just the reminder that they need.”

She’s certifiable. Jade is absolutely nuts. How do you convince yourself that you’re so far above someone else? What makes you think your life is more important or holds more value than another’s? These are the things I don’t understand with people like Jade. There’s such a disconnect between reality and the world that she lives in. Not only that, but her saying I’m not fit to mix with the gods. She has no clue what I am. She’s oblivious to the fact that a Fury stands in front of her. Someone who could take her out before she snaps her judgmental little fingers. Someone who could put all the gods back to sleep.

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