Page 13 of Runt's Haunted Ride
"I assure you, they're real." His face slid into an angered look. "Would security be here if it wasn't?" The clown pointed at me leaning against a pole on the other side of the tent from those two.
I nodded at the man, and just to appease the clown, I moved my arms so he could see the SECURITY printed across my shirt.
"It's fixed!" the man yelled. "No one can make a toss like that."
I watched as the orange clown slid in from the crowd, so he was next to the naysayer. The two clowns made eye contact, and the green clown nodded his head slightly. The orange one turned to face the man. He tugged on his sleeve so the man would look at him. As the man did, the clown raised his other hand and blew on it directly in the man's face. Instantly, the man's eyes glossed over. But this time, rather than take the man with him, the clown simply left. The man stood there in a stupor.
The carny put the box in front of the woman, who picked it up and hugged it to her chest.
"Alright," the carny jumped on top of the counter. "You all saw her win. Now, who's next?"
Instantly, everyone pulled out their money, fists full, willing to give it to him for a chance at a prize like that. People pushed and shoved, waving cash to get his attention.
The carnie was in front of the lady and the clown. He put his hand in his pocket and produced something he gave to the clown along with a fist bump.
"Not to worry, everyone will get a shot," the carny announced, taking money with one hand while handing out rings with the other.
I tried to make my way to the lady, but the crowd wasn't moving. The last I saw of her, she was walking away from the booth with the green clown's arm around her.
Good luck to her.
I made a mental note—tonight back at the clubhouse, I'd report on the prize. Maybe this was the sort of thing the President was looking for. While I hated my life in the club, it was the only life I had, so I might as well do as I was told.
I walked around, paying special attention to the carnies.
Do they all have jewels for prizes?
Twice, I dodged the dolls, who tonight were dressed in short dresses with ruffle panties.
I was watching the carny with the scales and no ears when Swinger's voice crackled over the radio. "Runt, Bulldog, I need backup near the Tilt-A-Whirl. Got a situation brewing."
We converged on his location to find a crowd gathering around two men who were shouting at each other. Between them stood a young woman I recognized from the water race game. I'd noticed before that she had a subtle way about her Always smiling and chatting with the guests. Her skin was covered insmall blue, green, and purple-looking circles. I'd also noticed that she seemed to always have her hand in cups of water.
"I sa-aww her fir-ssst!" one of the men slurred, clearly drunk. He was middle-aged, wearing an expensive pair of jeans and a blue polo shirt.
"Bullssshits!" the other one shot back. He was younger, wearing a racing team t-shirt and jeans. He was just as intoxicated, if not more. "Ssshe was tal-king to mee!"
The woman between them looked terrified, her hands raised defensively. "Please, I told you I don't want either of you. I'm not available. I work here."
"Come oooon, sss-weetheart," the older man said, reaching for her arm. "I'll makes it wor-rth your whhh-ile."
"Back off, old man," the younger guy snapped, grabbing the woman's other arm. "I wanna s-see where these circles end." He began tracing a pattern on her arm. She yanked her arm away.
The woman cried out as each of them grabbed an arm and began forcefully playing tug-of-war with her. That was enough for us. It was time to get involved.
"Break it up!" I bellowed, pushing through the crowd with Swinger and Bulldog flanking me. Our combined presence made people quickly part, and it should have been enough to end it. But it didn't. "LET GO OF HER!" Bulldog and I yelled at the same time.
But these guys were too drunk and too focused on their prize to care about consequences. They each squeezed down and pulled harder on her wrists. She sobbed and begged them to let her go.
"Thisss is none of your fuck'in business!" the older man snarled.
"Yeah, get lost!" the younger one added.
At the same time, they each gave a sharp, harsh pull on the woman. I'd had enough. I grabbed the older man's shoulderand wrist, squeezing just hard enough to make him release the woman.
"Let go. Now."
Swinger did the same with the younger guy, while Bulldog positioned himself protectively in front of the now-released carnival worker.
