Page 65 of Her Wicked Knights
Whit got us work badges, so I follow the arrow for the employee parking garage, gather my bag, and lock the doors, trying to convince myself that this is the way things have to be.
Tripp leads us to the security window, where an elderly man is sitting scanning badges.
I expect when he takes ours that they'll somehow trigger an alarm and lockdown, but as I hold my breath, he motions for me to walk through the metal detector. His companion pokes around in my bag with some kind of baton, not even batting an eyelash at the costume in there. But I suppose they're used to this: every year, the park goes all out on Halloween: decor, themes, haunted houses. I've never been to this kind of thing, but I've heard about it.
Turns out, hearing about it pales in comparison to living it. When the employees wave us through, Tripp guides me toward a short tunnel that spits us out at the front of the park, wherepeople move in every direction, skipping, walking, vibrating with excitement for a day at the park and the horrors they're about to experience. As an adrenaline junkie of sorts, I'm surprised I've never bothered to come to one of these things; there seems to be no shortage of thrills to be had.
The sun is still high in the sky, and it already feels like I'm standing with my toes over a cliff.
"Think we're a little early." Tripp says.
His voice sounds far away, so I turn to realize that he's walked ahead of me. I didn't realize I'd stopped to take it all in, but he did. He's watching me with an arched eyebrow and a smirk. "You good?"
"I'm... excited?" I laugh. "Overwhelmed may be the better word choice."
"Overwhelmed?" Tripp's eyes narrow. "You're Rev. You don't getoverwhelmed. But there are a lot of people here tonight."
The people are the least of my concern, and Tripp must realize that when he tracks my eyesight to the roller coaster that stretches into the sky. We're too far away to see much, but I hear the rush and distant sound of excited screaming as they crest the top of the track.
Understanding seems to take over. "Have you not been here before?"
"Nope." I laugh. "And now I'm thinking that's a tragedy."
"It is a tragedy!" Tripp agrees. "I mean, how? Everyone brings their kid here at least once, right?"
When I say nothing, he realizes his mistake. My father is not the sort of person who worried about giving me normal childhood experiences.
"Forget it. You're here now, and we have time. What's your vibe? The roller coaster? The wheel? There's a water ride I always liked if you're okay with getting wet?"
I turn to him, surprised at the suggestions. "We have time to enjoy ourselves before we commit murder?"
Tripp's eyes widen in horror as he glances around, looking to see if anyone caught onto that. But we're posing as scare actors for the haunted houses tonight, so it's not like what I just said is really that crazy. Nobody has even so much as looked our way; they're all too glued behind their phone, taking videos or pictures or making plans for what rides they're going to first.
"We have time before we have towork." He says, putting extra emphasis on the word 'work'. "Terror Nights doesn't start for another two hours. With the employee pass, we can easily get through half the rides by then and then come back another time for the rest. So, what's first?"
I turn my eyes over the park, appraising the options. I want to do everything. I want to spend the entire day and night here riding thrill rides and eating whatever the fuck that is that smells so delicious.
"Roller coaster." I grin, excited by the prospect of going on my first one.
Tripp gestures ahead of us. "Lead the way."
I'm too busy soaking in the excitement to realize that Tripp is pale as a fucking ghost until after the ride attendant pushes down on our overhead restraints and I turn to grin at him. He's gripping the metal handlebars so hard, I think his bones may snap off in a second.
We're situated in the front row, and I've been staring straight ahead at the track we're going to climb before the drop, but now panic creeps in.
"What's wrong?"
Tripp says nothing, shaking his head the slightest bit, and I think he may be trying to keep himself from getting sick.
"Are you not feeling well? Should we get off and come back later?"
"No." He shakes his head again, just the smallest bit, and then musters up a small smile. "It's okay. I'll be okay."
Realization hits me slow, but then there's a hissing noise and the roller coaster car we're in begins to move and he yelps before pressing his lips together like they've betrayed him.
"You're scared?" I ask loudly enough to be heard over the clicking as the track sends us higher and higher, making the people below us look like tiny little ants. He doesn't answer me, but he doesn’t need to. It's not really a question. "Have you ridden this before?"
"Yes." He nods but doesn't open his eyes to look at me. And I can't console him, because we ascend to the top of the track, and the drop is fucking steep. I'm looking at nothing straight before me- a blue sky, cloudless and breezy, and then the car rotates ever so slightly, pointing us straight toward the ground.
