Page 17 of Hell's Fear

“We’ll deal with your guilt later. Right now, we need to leave and find a way to warn the other teams,” Kele replied.

“The timer is ticking down, and we’re unaware of how many more rooms are left. There’s got to be at least two more andwe’ve wasted a load of time. Let’s find this disco mannequin,” Celt said.

Everyone apart from Chatter pulled themselves together and hunted for the disco mannequin. As soon as we found it and pressed a button hanging around its neck, the next box lit up. It was a punk from the eighties, the third was dressed in a mini skirt from the nineties, and the fourth wore flares from the sixties.

Under Chucky, the door slid open, and we crawled into the next room.

“Everybody, eat and drink something. You may not want to, but you’ll need to refresh,” Ben ordered as he and I took in the room.

On one wall were thirty lit images of different outfits, and on the other wall were years.

“Guess we have to match the outfit with the year?” I asked.

“Think I’d agree with that. Look at those velvet flares. That’s the seventies,” Ben pointed out. I pressed the button on the flares, and Ben hit nineteen-seventy-four. Nothing happened.

“Could they be the sixties?” I inquired.

“Nope, I have photos of my dad in the seventies wearing them. Press together on three,” Ben suggested.

He counted down, and we pushed the buttons. The lights remained on.

“That pantsuit is from the seventies,” Chey said, approaching. Counting down again, we pressed all three, and the lights turned off. Great, it wasn’t just pairs.

“Never simple, is it?” Chey muttered.

Quickly, we worked our way through, and the door opened after a few minutes.

The fourth room we found ourselves in was filled with bolts of cloth. They stood upright and were held in place by locks that clamped around the ends of them. We still had an hour. Next tothe door was a sign showing people standing and going in height difference.

It made no sense until Mouse realised the bolts of cloth were different heights.

After figuring out how to undo the clamps, we began hurrying as we really needed to get to the next room. Twenty minutes later, the door slid open, and we found ourselves in the fifth room.

This one was a doozy.

We had to cross the room using stepping stones, which were quite a way apart. Above us were ribbons which we could hold on to and slid across pipes to the next stepping stone.

Ben faced a tough challenge. On the wall, written in luminous paint, it warned us should three of us touch the ground, we’d be locked in.

With Ben unable to lift his arm, we were in a bit of a quandary. There was a light showing the number nine.

“Okay, Celt, you go first,” Ben said.

“Yeah.”

Celt completed it within minutes, and Chatter went next, followed by Chey. Chey struggled as she tried to slide the ribbons along the pipes. Her legs flailed, and twice, I winced as she came close to touching the floor. Finally, she made it across as Celt grabbed her and hauled her to safety.

“Those ribbons don’t move easily. You have to make them move,” Chey called out.

“That doesn’t bode well for Ben or Kele,” I replied.

“If they can throw the ribbons to the centre, they should be able to swing over,” Celt suggested.

“Okay, I’ll go next,” Ben offered. He wrapped the ends of the ribbon around one arm and swung out. He grunted as his shoulder took his weight, but he made it to the second step. “That wasn’t a great idea,” Ben said, rotating his good shoulder.

With a deep breath, he reached up and clutched the ends with both hands. I hated the pain that showed on his face as he managed the next two stepping stones. On the fourth, he rested, holding his wound.

“Ben, I can come out and carry you over,” Celt offered.

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