Page 63 of Kingston
“You’ve got five minutes. Go.” Kingston jerks his thumb over his shoulder. When we don’t move, he hollers like a drill sergeant. “GO, GO, GO!”
* * *
This is ten times worse than the panty escapade from last week. They’ve ensured the blindfolds are thick and tied on tightly, so we have no chance of seeing anything at all. I did get a good look when I went in, so I know I’m dealing with an upper floor, a main floor, and a basement. But there’s simply no way to catalog everything in the house in the time we were allowed to look. I tried to take note of carpeting versus hardwood versus tile in each room. And I do know the foyer of the home—or house, rather because I’d be insane to call this a home—is the only place where there’s a curved staircase leading down from the upper floor. So, I figure if there’s any hope at all that I get out, I’ll feel around for the old, rotting banister. I shudder. Not that I want to touch anything at all. As I was making observations, I definitely saw evidence of some sort of animal or animals having taken up residence. Whether it’s mice, squirrels, skunks, or monkeys, I have no clue. The entire place is a health hazard.
Yet, here we are, being left for some undetermined amount of time without use of all our senses.
From my right, Archer whispers, “Okay, Elliot, here we go.” I sense all three guys with me, surrounding me. Cannon has taken one of my hands in his and has his other pressed to my lower back. Kingston? Well, I know he’s here. And he’s close. I’d know his distinctive scent anywhere.
They lead me all over the house, stairs groaning as we ascend them and walk around for what feels like forever. We go down, we go up, we go down, we go down again, we turn around in circles. We walk up more stairs. I’m beginning to think I missed a staircase somewhere. They have me good and confused by the time we’re done.
Cannon guides me into position with the other two initiates… I believe they’ve put us in a triangle formation with our backs to each other. I’m shorter than the other two are, obviously, so each of my shoulders is touching one of their biceps.
Kingston finally speaks. “Okay you’re all in the same room, that way no one can squawk that anything is unfair. There’s one final item on the game card we’re supposed to read before we leave.” He clears his throat to begin. “Four, you aren’t alone. A murder was committed right here in this room fifty years ago. Rumor has it the ghost never left.” He chuckles. “Good luck.”
Taggart’s muttered exclamation meets my ears. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He’s on my left. Bridger on my right. And it feels like the rest of them have circled us.
“If you feel air moving past your face, I’ve heard that’s her breathing on you.” Alec’s laugh sends a chill down my spine. “The dead lady. Woman of the house.”
My jaw sets.Nope.Not going to let them see me freak out. Listening carefully, several sets of footsteps leave the room, but I have no way of knowing who is still here. There’s hardly a shot whoever has first watch is someone I feel safe with. Alec, Joel, Stuart, or even Zeke. No thanks.
I have no choice but to suck it up and make it through the next few hours—at least I assume it will be hours. They said we could try to leave the house when the air horn sounds. But how the hell long will it be?
This would have been extraordinarily difficult for Will. He’s claustrophobic and sensory deprivation is at the top of his least-favorite things.
At my seventh birthday party, my mother thought it would be fun to have a piñata. It was one of those huge fancy ones—a star with tassels hanging off each point. Everything was going great until she put the blindfold on Will. He freaked the fuck out, swung wildly, and hit one of her hanging floral baskets instead. Dirt flew everywhere. He was so embarrassed, and everyone laughed at him. I felt terrible. That was the first time I ever saw him less than poised, even as a kid. It makes me sick inside to remember the panic in his voice. He was so scared. To this day, he can’t even handle having anyone sneak up and cover his eyes for two seconds to surprise him. It’s bad. There’s no doubt in my mind this scenario would have pushed him into a straight-up panic attack.
But it’s not Will here now. It’s me. And I’ve got to get through this. I may not be able to see anything, but I can feel and I can hear. And smell. Ick. This place definitely smells old, like it’s rotting from the inside out.
For a long while, not one of us moves an inch. No one speaks.
And then something—my brain nearly explodes at the thought of what it could be—but I swear something skitters over my foot. “Fuck! What was that?” I kick out as the blood begins to pound through my head. I really hate not being able to see anything. And now I can hardly hear over the rush of blood in my own head.
“You know, honey, I bet if you raise your hand, you could tap out. If you want zero points for this game, that is.” Bridger chuckles, and the sound comes out so disturbed, I’m not altogether certain he isn’t talking to himself, in a way.
Taggart’s breath hitches as Bridger finally steps away from us. “Fuck this. Everymanfor himself. Emphasis onman.” He snickers again, clumsily making his way from us. I won’t give him the satisfaction of responding to his taunt.
I will listen carefully, though, so I have a clue where he’s going. His tread is heavy, but a moment later, the door creaks and shuts. That fucker closed the door behind him. Blowing out a hard breath, I attempt to process where I think he went. If I’m not mistaken, he’s made his way out in the hallway on the landing, possibly near the staircase, but he may have turned away from the stairs and continued farther, where I seem to recall there being other bedrooms, closets, and bathrooms.
Or I could be completely wrong. Maybe we’re in the basement after all. Or on the main floor. I’m not certain of anything at this point and scared I’ve gotten turned around. For all I know, they’ve started us in the foyer at the front door to confuse us. I breathe carefully, trying to keep a calm head.
“What floor are we on?” Taggart whispers raggedly. “Will you tell me? I’m all fucking turned around.”
I clumsily search for his hand with mine. It’s clammy and shaky. “Top floor, I think. I could be lost, too, though. We should try to explore… see if I’m right.” I wet my lips. “We have no way of knowing how quickly the air horn is going to sound.”
“Fuck. What was that?” I can hear him moving his hand in front of his face, kinda like when you walk into a spider’s web or something.
“What’s wrong, Tag?”
“Something touched my face. Fuck, you’re right. We need to at least know where we are.” One breath after another heaves from him. I’m half afraid he’s going to hyperventilate at the rate he’s going.
I let go of his hand to take a few cautious steps in the same direction Bridger had gone. “You can call out to me if you need anything. I don’t mind. I’m going over here.”
“Um. Yeah. Okay.” He doesn’t sound sure of what he’s doing at all.
I cautiously hold my hands out in front of me, sweeping them back and forth in an arcing motion, and shuffle forward a few more steps. I haven’t gone very far when the tip of my athletic shoe hits something.Shit.What did they do, turn this place into a not-so-fun funhouse?
A waft of air moves past my face, and I instinctively slap at whatever is there and barely catch something with my fingertips.Jerks.I would bet anything one of the brothers—likely one of my least favorites—is in the room with us.Fuck this.I won’t let them toy with me. Moving more quickly now, I edge around whatever is on the floor and move forward until my hands meet a wall. I breathe a sigh of relief, at the same time Taggart swears from somewhere behind me.
